Monday, August 20, 2007

Awesome Concert!

Hey folks, hope all is well wherever you are. Man, an amazing concert tonight. Seriously. Let's see if I can remember the songs sung. Benny Friedman started off with Yosef Karduner's Shir Lamaalos, sang it very nicely. Next up was Elokai, not Dedi's, Dudu's. There were two more, but they obviously didn't leave too much of an impression, as I can't recall 'em. One was Yiddish, but a relatively quick one. Ohad then began to sing from the side, his Shalom Aleichem. Coming in, we knew his voice would not disappoint, the only question was how his stage personality would work. I'm happy to report that both were brilliant. Unlike a lot of singers Ohad seems to be happy to hit that homerun, going all out vocally several times a song. So after greeting us he sang a Chabad medley, starting off with the Rebbe's slow Tzama, doing a fast Niggun, and then finishing off with Hupp Cossack, Benny helping from the crowd. Up next was Lifnei Mi from his first album, and he sang the whole thing off the stage. Completing the first half was a Carlebach medley, featuring all the good stuff, including the new one, and as he said, a Bochur told him (at a 'Farbrengen')a couple years ago, did you hear the new Carlebach, and he thought he (Ohad) was drunk or something.

Let's see. the second half started off with Benny singing a slightly modified "Small Piece of Heaven", not as good as his uncle at HASC 17 years ago, but hey, he had MBD there. Ohad came back on with Chavivin, and then he and Benny dueted (is that a word?) Mi Yitain. They didn't really do any harmony, which is too bad, but oh well. Next up, if my memory serves correctly, was a Isreali medley, including my all time favorite Al Kol Aileh. About the only thing he missed there was Hatikva, which is just as well because we would have stoned him if he had sung it. Oh, and that wasn't necessarily official Chabad ideology, just my own belief system. Next up was Stop! Need I say more? You may have quibbles about the content, but it's still a really great song, especially, as I said, with Ohad going full blast. Pia Poscha followed, in honor of Nathaniel Litvin, a Chasan (full report on his Thursday wedding on, well, Thursday). A shout from the crowd (A Mishulovin, if you must know) prompted Gdolo Shiro, except that he only sang the first part of the song, which of course doesn't even mention those words.
He told a beautiful story, which I'm way too lazy to transcribe now, which launched into Tanya, everyone's favorite Avraham Fried song. An encore prompted him to go through snippets of songs in, bear with me, French, Yiddish, Hungarian, English, Hebrew, and Arabic, before he gave us all Verastich, which happens to be a really nice song, even if you don't like Gospel. Rabbi Feller asked for, and got, MBD's Moshiach, and then it was over.

But seriously, a great concert. OK, so this review may be a bit fawning, but he really was excellent. The audience was literally eating out of his hand. I've been to several A Fried concerts, and of course he's something special, but hey, so was Ohad.

All right then, you have your report, I'm off to sleep, after Chitas, Rambam, Maariv, Krias Shema, etc, so until next time, so long everybody!

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Sunday morning muse

It's rather annoying to not know what to write about. See, on rovingrabbis, I knew what to write. There was a definite goal, a purpose, that is simply missing with this blog. So perhaps I'll just write about what's going on. Tonight, in Minnesota, there is a concert with Ohad Moskowitz and Benny Friedman. Why does blogger question my spelling of the former singer and not the latter? Does it really matter? Probably not.
Anyway, the concert is in aid of the Yeshiva High School of the Twin Cities. I'm probably going to go there as a Shliach next year. What is that you ask? Good question. I'm having a hard time explaining it myself. I'm neither a teacher nor a student. It's more of an internship. I won't really be teaching (hopefully), but rather learning with the younger guys and inspiring them by providing a good example. I hope to have the same effect on these guys that the Shluchim had on me when I was in Yeshiva. It's a tough job, no doubt, because every move you make is scrutinized. For example, take listening to the music of Matisyahu. I personally don't, but a lot of guys do. If the Bochurim see a Shliach listen, then suddenly it's, "Well, why shouldn't I listen, Shliach A does?" All right, so it's not such a great example, but there certainly are many others. No one is perfect, of course, and perhaps you could accuse me of advocating hypocrisy, but someone has to lead by example.
OK, more later.

Friday, August 17, 2007

So...

Well, it seems that until I have a new blog form my friend Glenn I'll be writing on here. The question is, though, what are people interested in reading? Details of my fascinating life? Great thoughts? Musings of a cow? Talk to me people, and I'll try to oblige.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

The complete TRS Roving Rabbis '07

I assume I have the copyright on this stuff. After all, I did write it. Point is, just in case they shut down the website, I'll have a record of it. Enjoy.


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Kansas & Missouri
The Inviolable Redundant Tautology
The end
Friday, August 10, 2007 - 1:00 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Well folks, the time has come to say goodbye. Snif Snif. But don't cry. Life goes on, as it always does. I'm only updating now because the website that I use to write the blog only works with Internet Explorer, and at home we have Safari.


So how would I rate Merkos Shlichus? It was pretty good. We could have done more. Truth is, is any situation, you could always do more. Which is a good thing. If you can't do more, then what's the point? Might as well just give up.


I'm sorry, this post is needlessly philosophical. My readers expect a blend of humor, irreverence, and deep religious conviction. Or so they tell me. Anyway, it's been a pleasure, and if anyone feels a need to communicate, they can always leave a post, with their real email (you know who you are), and I'll get back to you.


Man, goodbyes are so hard.




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Special Edition
Monday, August 06, 2007 - 3:09 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I hope you're as excited as I am about this special edition of the Inviolable Redundant Tautology, brought to you courtesy of www.shmaisradio.com, playing some Lipa. This post will be a response to all the comments that I've received over the last several weeks, a topic which was actually suggested by a commenter last night. So, without further ado, here goes.


OK, not so fast. First a little caveat: I will digress, obfuscate, and generally wander around, touching on main points at oddly-spaced intervals. So reader beware. Oh, and I won't necessarily bring down the comment, but it shouldn't be too hard to figure out what I'm talking about.


We started off with my first post, about my excitement with the whole Shlichus thing. Glenn correctly pointed out that I've been doing the Rebbe's work all this time. My response? True, but not in such an obvious manner. I could never before claim to represent Lubavitch with any authority. But now I'm a bona fide spokesman. Another comment was really just a shoutout, so I'll leave it at that.


Excuse me, I have to turn off the music, they've put on some horrible boyband techno garbage.


Right, onto the next post, we have Raiza pointing out that it was a good thing that the cops didn't arrest us. One of the beautiful things about America is that we're innocent until proven guilty. And since we really weren't guilty, no harm befell us. Still, I appreciate the point, that suspicious characters inquiring at police stations do have reason to be wary of the law.


I just dealt very seriously with a comment that was never meant to be dealt with in that manner. Go me.


Baruch asked if I'd be traveling to Harrisonville, MO. I emailed him back, no response. Perhaps it was a prank. Perhaps he simply was scared off by me. Highly unlikely, I agree, that anyone would be scared by a couple of smiling rabbis, but you just never know.


Some sarcasm from my next earnest inquirer. He identifies himself as "the fake rabbi," so I didn't take him too seriously. Truth is, and I'm not saying this is a good thing, I take very few things seriously. It just is what it is. Brilliant.


50%gordonblood wrote...


My great uncle was a young bearded man named gordon growing up in New York in the forties. I don't think my grandfather had a beard yet in the forties. Anyways, I don't think grandpa made any tapes.


This is what it is. What am I supposed to do, call the guy a liar? I know what I know, and that's that. But still, of course, I'm happy that we got some personal history to spice up the blog. Following the descendant was someone suggesting I use the word "shtuff" instead of "stuff". It's cute, but now my style. Yinglish, to me, is not the most desired of languages.


Some of the comments were questions that I answered in the blog, so I won't bother going into them. Glenn asked if we packed Shabbos candles, and we did; not for us, for the people who needed them to light. To Curious George my only response is that curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the monkey.


And now we get a new record. Three people commenting. Isn't that incredible? Three people took their time, their own precious time, and donated it to Chabad. How absolutely wonderful. Oh, their comments? Let's see...


My Number One Fan said that he thought my comment about the tuneup was so funny he literally gave vent to his feelings with a series of laughing sounds. You know, I've been saying that line, or some variation of it, for years now, and this is the first time anyone's acknowledged getting it. Take this as a compliment, my number one fan, on your highly developed sense of humor. The other two comments were once again shoutouts, which again I appreciate, because it shows that someone cares. In the case of these two people, I can vouch that they really do.


("ha'orech wrote... I think it came out great" This one's a bit private, so I don't think I'll elaborate.)


Almost done now, don't fret. It seems that I haven't lived up to my promise to wander. Sorry.


Ah, the infamous shower comment. True, It's not infamous yet, but, at least for anyone reading this, it soon will be. Deepest, darkest, America? Listen, it's not like I'm in Mississippi or something. We have running water here once a week, and then we have a communal shower. Just kidding. About the communal shower part. In reality we each get thirty-six seconds to take care of our weekly ablutions.


All cities are beautiful in my book? I wouldn't say all. Most, perhaps. I wouldn't want anyone reading the blog from somewhere I had been to be insulted. But in truth, some cities are less beautiful than others. For example, downtown Detroit, from what I've heard, isn't the world's hottest place. Except during the gang wars, then it gets pretty exciting.


Hand soap. It's just one of those things that so many people take for granted. But not me. Not anymore. And as for bodywash? If they don't have any, then what? Some people still use bars to wash their hands, but that's so 1967. And as to the straightness of the I-70, well, yes, it is pretty straight. And yes, thank the one above for Lipa. Or, as I type, Dudu Fisher, who isn't bad, in is own way. Actually, in my long-ago childhood I sang with the dear man at a concert put on by my school in Milwaukee. What fun that was! I wish I remembered something of the experience.


And the final comment, until now, we have the high priest. Not the actual one, of course. No one knows where he is. Been missing for over two thousand years. But the one in the parking lot was dressed in a reasonable-enough representation. Except for his white tights and sandals. The priests didn't wear shoes. They walked barefoot on the cold stone floors of the holy temple in Jerusalem. But again, this wasn't Jerusalem, this was Sedalia, and I'm not about to tell a non-Jewish guy to take his shoes off and walk barefoot on wet concrete. There are laws against that kind of thing. I assume. Perhaps we could have been arrested, which ties in nicely to the beginning of this column. And with that, for today, I bid you adeiu.


Next time...however the spirit strikes me

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The next day
Sunday, August 05, 2007 - 12:12 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Did I mention that we went to the cemetery in Columbia? I used to be kind of freaked out by those places. They're so, well, full of dead people.


And the one in Columbia was no different. There's a small section for the Jews. It seems like most of them were from Germany, and arrived in the early twentieth century. They've got a nice resting place; sunny (well, sometimes anyway), trees, bunch of dead non-Jews around, and even a busy street twenty feet away.


After a quick pit-stop for some soda (the eternal debate continues: which is better, Dr. Pepper, or Pibb Xtra. It's a tough question, but so far I'm holding out for the latter. As a kid it was always Dr. Pepper, but the taste just seems different now. Who knows?)


After doing our usual thing (stopping at the mall, making a bunch of phone calls, having no one respond, walking around the mall searching, etc.) we decided to drive down to Osage Beach, which is the gateway to Lake of the Ozarks. It's a big lake. Not as big as the Great Lakes, but still big. The hotel there didn't even have shampoo. These are the sacrifices one makes on Merkos Shlichus, I guess. I called up one of the names on our list, an Israeli, and he thought I was a terrorist. I told him I was Chabad. He responded, "OK, just don't bring your shotgun." Instead of the firearms, we brought Tefillin, which he was happy to put on. What's an Israeli doing in the middle of Missouri? Selling T-shirts of course. And Henna. And a bunch of other things.


We stopped by the visitors bureau to see if they had any information. They did. A shul. Amazing! Bnei Haagam. Children of the Lake. Cute name, no? Anyway, after speaking to the person at the end of the phone we discovered that the congregation no longer exists, because everyone either died or moved. Sad. We dropped off some pamphlets for a couple doctors, and drove back to Columbia for the class.


The class was quite classy. Michael and his wife prepared some light refreshments, and Shua, my partner, gave a class on "What is Chabad?" And then we talked for two and a half hours with the five people who came about theology, Chabad, life, etc. You know, the works.


On Thursday we had a meeting with the owner of a hippy-type store, who was actually happy to see us. We were of course happy to see him. Again, we discussed what exactly we were doing in Columbia, what he was doing in Columbia, what Columbia was doing in Columbia, and real estate. No, really. He's moving into the business, so we shared some tips that we've gleaned over the years in Chabad. I'd share these tips with you too, but that wouldn't be fair to all the Shluchim out there.


A little while later we started the drive back to Kansas City, stopping in such metropolises (metropoli?) as Jefferson City, Sedalia, and California. In Sedalia we ran into (not literally) a guy dressed in the garb of a Kohen Gadol, a high priest. He's a Messianic Christian, and we had an interesting conversation. He asked us why we don't accept J, and we explained that the guy just doesn't make the cut for us.


Next time...More of the same

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Our first day
Friday, August 03, 2007 - 3:15 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I'd love to be able to write that I was really inspired while driving down the I-70 this time. But I wasn't. Not that it wasn't pleasant. After all, can the sweet sounds of Lipa Schmeltzer ever be a non-pleasant experience?


So we got to Columbia. The standardization of America continues with mile after mile of look-a-like strip malls. We stopped in one, made some phone calls, the only guy who picked up wasn't too interested in meeting us. He was a South African. My parents are South Africans. I was planning on playing that trump card, but our conversation was a bit too brief. It's not like I'm going to start off talking with a "Hi, my name is Chanan Maister, my parents are SAers, we're from Chabad, visiting Jews in the area, did I mention my parents were from SA, would you like to meet us, see a SA descendant?" It just wouldn't work. Oh well.


We spoke with another guy. He's not just another guy. Actually. Michael. He's a great guy. Wants to have Chabad in Columbia. Is working to bring Chabad to Columbia. What more could you ask?


He told us that he got involved in Judaism when his daughter told him she didn't want to be Jewish. Now after two years in Tzivos Hashem, Chabad's children program/club/group, she wants to be Orthodox. Pretty good, no?


So we chatted a bit, and then he gave us a tour of the city. Like Manhattan, it's alive because of the institute of higher learning located there, Missouri University, commonly known as Mizzou. It has about 650 Jewish students. On Tuesday we met with the director. She offered us cold water to drink (What else would we do with it?). As I've mentioned before, it's tough going around in 98 degree weather wearing a hat and jacket. The director was very nice. And we even put Tefillin on one of the students who was there. He's from Baltimore, and enrolled in the journalism school at Mizzou. We made some more phone calls, and arranged to give a class at Michael's house on Wednesday night.


As for the details you're all undoubtedly waiting for: our hotel. Yes, it was nice. What I don't get is, why do they have two different bodysoaps, three different shampoos, and yet no handsoap? I like to wash my hands, as I'm sure do most people, and it's really quite distressing. OK, not that distressing, but come on? Hey, even Yeshiva had handsoap!


I'm getting a bit, shall we say, "full" of writing, so more later.

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A Real Quickie
Friday, August 03, 2007 - 2:31 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Just to let all my loyal readers out there know that we're doing fine, thank G-d, and I'll be writing a full report. Soon. Relatively. Eventually. In this lifetime.
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Internet is a Hot Commodity Out Here in Yehuppitzville!
Monday, July 30, 2007 - 12:07 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Virtually every hotel/motel/motor inn/hostel/dog kennel in this great land boasts of free high-speed internet. So I had visions of late model Mac Pros - or at the worst the very latest Pentiums - on every desk in every room. Much to my surprise, I discovered that there is one computer, in the lobby, and it's not that fast anyway. Why do I mention this? Because there's also thirty-six guests in the lobby, just wandering around aimlessly, waiting for the moment when I leave the computer and they can pounce. So instead of writing of all the great work that we're doing here in spectacular mid-Missouri I'll just end off.


Next time...less fluff, more content (if we get an upper-class hotel!)

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A Quickie
Sunday, July 29, 2007 - 12:29 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Shabbos is over. Tomorrow we go out, with G-d's help. On the schedule is Columbia, Jefferson City, and perhaps the beautiful Ozarks. Truth is, I don't know that they're beautiful. AAA is my source for that one. But so far they've been relatively reliable, so until I get there myself, they'll just have to do.


Until next time...


P.S. In response to the comment on this entry, yes, all cities are beautiful. You just have to look.

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The point is...
Friday, July 27, 2007 - 1:49 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
This entry may ramble a bit, so excuse me please.


First off: (Drum roll please) The Alter Rebbe, the first Rebbe of Chabad, said that he would have had another fifty thousand followers if he hadn't included the phrase "B'midat Emet Leyaacov" in the Tanya, his seminal book on Chassidic philosophy. Isn't that incredible? He had the chance to have fifty thousand more Chassidim! That's like a sold-out Yankee stadium suddenly becoming Chassidim. It boggles my mind. But why didn't he have those people? Because he insisted on truth. Pure, unadulterated truth.


Batting second, the Chazzan, (if you get the joke, great. If not, sorry) Lipa! The three weeks (and the nine days) have ended (simultaneously, actually)!! I feel as if a cloud has lifted and the sun came out. No more feeling miserable! We can now listen to music, and serve God with joy!


And in the third spot in the order, we have an interesting phrase that came up while in S. Louis. Incidentally, did you know that the Previous Rebbe was in S. Louis? Have I written that already? Well, I certainly intended to. Anyway, I was talking with one of the congregants at Chabad, and I mentioned something about "Bringing us closer to our father in heaven."


He said, "Hey, you sound like a preacher now!"


I replied that no, it is not a Christian thing to talk about our father in heaven, it's actually a very Jewish thing. Avinu Shebashamayim.


Which brings me to the cleanup hitter, the guy who drives in the first three runners with a grand slam (or, knowing my luck, ends the inning with a double-play). Why are we going out looking for Jews? Simply to bring them closer to their father in heaven. That's it. That's the whole reason for people to go out and dedicate their lives. Every penny you donate to Chabad is (hopefully) being spent on spreading forth the wellsprings of Chassidus. Of Judaism for that matter. Same thing, if you think about it.


And lastly, in to close this win and send us all to the showers, I'd like to thank all the people who read this blog, particularly my fellow bloggers (and guys I went to Yeshiva with) in Florida and beyond. I'm honored. No, really. Because, to tell the truth, I'm not reading your blogs. Sorry.


Next time...more stuff

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High Falutin' Plans for Wichita!
Thursday, July 26, 2007 - 5:27 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
My my, that title is cheery.


We're planning on going out on Sunday. The wild west is beckoning. No more creature comforts (AC), we're going to ride horses to Wichita. Yeehaw!


OK, not exactly. We're actually going to rent an economy car and go down the highway till we reach beautiful Wichita, at which point we will search for Jews, find some, inspire them beyond their wildest imaginations, and then come home. Simple, huh? But until we actually do anything, I don't have much to write, so, so long.


That didn't come out quite right, did it? The problem with writing is that you can't get the whole verbal inflection and pregnant pause thing going. Let's try it again. So Long. Perfect.

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Fast nights and slow days
Wednesday, July 25, 2007 - 2:34 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
The title sounds so pompous. And it's not even true. The night wasn't particularly fast, nor the day particularly slow. But enough chit-chat, it's time for action. Or at least the story of one man's Tisha Bav.


We ate. No meat, of course, which is really OK, because who wants to eat meat before a fast? Besides me of course? Then came Maariv and Eicha. One of the beautiful things about the ninth of Av is this whole thing about little chairs. You know, the type they have in preschools. In fact, the chairs we all sat on were from the Chabad preschool. But perhaps "sat" is too strong a word for what we actually did. Back when I was a little tyke in, oh, first grade, my family lived in beautiful Mequon, Wisconsin. We were eating a Shabbos meal at a family (who shall remain nameless) and I sat down on a little plastic chair they had in the basement. Remember, I was seven years old. The chair broke. So here we are thirteen years later, sitting on the same size chair, praying to the One Above that we all survive. It's not like the things are comfortable anyway. They're really not. And that, my friends, is the whole point of Tisha Bav - suffering for the destruction of the two Temples.


Despite the mournful mood, we didn't say tachnun (penitential prayers). Tisha Bav is also a bit of a holiday, and will be even more so with the coming of the Messiah speedily in our days Amen, so it's simply not appropriate to ask for forgiveness for all our many sins.


Oh yeah, I also got in a good six hour nap today. The gain of which I'm now wasting at 1:45 AM.


But Tisha Bav is not all about pain and sleep. It's about something far, far greater. For more info, see (shameless plug again) this article by Rabbi Naftali Silberberg.


Back on the road very, very soon.

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Beautiful S. Louis
Monday, July 23, 2007 - 7:04 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I haven't written in a while. I'm sorry. See, we drove to beautiful S. Louis, MO on Friday. Have you ever been there? They have this big arch thing. Really big. We touched it. Exciting, eh?


I'd love to be able to say that we found some Jews hanging out there, but I guess they were all home preparing for Shabbos. So we headed there ourselves. Well not really home. That's in Minnesota/Florida/New York, but close enough.


And as for Shabbos? It was very nice. The Chabad Shul is, thank G-d, bursting at its seams, so hopefully they'll soon find some bigger digs. And otherwise? As I've said before, it's tough to write when you've got writer's block. There is an apostrophe there, right? After all, it is my block.


So, as I say, I'm sorry, I've nothing too inspiring to write, but hey, I'll try tomorrow. Nothing like Tisha Bav to fire up those creative juices.

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Lawrence
Friday, July 20, 2007 - 11:00 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Boring title, eh?


A couple of nights back we went to Lawrence to learn some Torah with the locals. Lawrence is the home of Kansas University, and so I learned Kuntres Inyana Shel Toras HaChassidus with a student. We'll call him Charles. Sorry about the plug there, it was just one of those things that had to be done. Essentially, this work explains why Chassidus is so important. After all, we have the Torah, the Mishna, the Talmud, the Kabbala, the Medrash, the Codifiers, and the great Halachic authorities. Who needs Chassidus? I won't spoil the surprise, so go pick up a copy and find out.


Officially we sell books on Merkos Shlichus. OK, not only officially, but something tells me that a little more emphasis was put on it forty years ago than today. Just a hunch. Anyway, I'm just doing my part.


After the learning was done we settled down to a Farbrengen with Rabbis Wineberg and Teichtel. It's great to be able to sit with guys who really don't have too much contact with the rest of the Lubavitch world, and who look for inspiration from Yeshiva guys like me. Me! Sure, I'm great and all, but I don't really see myself as too inspirational. (If anyone disagrees they can post a comment). See, guys in Yeshiva look up to the Shluchim, and rightly so. These people are on the front line of the battle for Jewish survival, and they're doing an incredible job! Meanwhile the Shluchim (some of them anyway) are pining for their days in Yeshiva, where a guy can be surrounded by people like himself all day and just learn and pray and all those things to his heart's content.


Sorry this is so needlessly soppy.


Anyway, we all enjoyed the Farbrengen (and the excellent pickles) and then we headed back to KC for the night. Morning. Whatever.


Next Time: More italics, and maybe some Louis

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Local
Wednesday, July 18, 2007 - 6:37 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
For all those breathlessly waiting for info on the summer Yeshiva, this is the wrong post. I'm sorry.


My friend Sruli Clapman and I just got back from a house call in Leawood, Kansas. There's a very nice elderly couple living there, and we were coming to check their Mezuzos. First, of course, we exchanged histories. He was born to Jewish parents in Salt Lake City, Utah, but had no Jewish contact until he met his current wife, in Omaha. She's involved with the Chabad here in Kansas City, and had asked for us to come. The first Mezuzah-case that we looked at had no scroll. The second had a piece of paper in it. The third had a piece of parchment, but it was obviously not Kosher. So we put up five Mezuzos, which is really tremendous. Might be a little expensive in the short run, but they protect you and all you own, for eternity, or your next scheduled oil tuneup, whichever comes first.


Following the Mezuzos, we asked the man of the house if he would like to put on Tefillin. He hemmed and hawed a bit, but his wife soon put a stop to that. 45 seconds later he had phylacteries on his head. The first time too. Amazing, isn't it, that a Jewish man can go 85+ years without checking his Jewish blood pressure! And then it was time to go, but not before cooing over their great-grandson, who is quite cute, I must say.


Tomorrow, the summer Yeshiva. If I get around to it. No, really, I'll try.

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The Journey Continues...Oooh
Tuesday, July 17, 2007 - 1:21 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Lipa Schmeltzer, for all those not in the know, is a Skverer Chassid who sings songs (what else?) in Yiddish. More Matisyahu than Yom Tov Ehrlich, if you get my drift.


Getting back to exciting Manhattan, after our aborted attempt at a meeting, it was time to go to our favorite hangout: the local library. Unlike in S. Joseph, the librarians were not too helpful. Sure, they were nice enough, but they said something about privacy and we knew it was a hopeless cause. So we left. Man, we sure do seem to do a whole lot of leaving. As we were making our departure I saw a woman staring at me. Being the naturally shy, reserved, (look on thesaurus.com for more synonyms) and generally me person that I am, I ignored her. But she continued. So I asked, "Do you know anyone who's Jewish?" And she replied, "Well, actually I'm Jewish." Of course she's a professor at K-State. Like most college towns, it seems that everyone either works at the university or is somehow supported by it. She had never seen a Chassidic Jew in the city. Heck, I had never seen any type of Jew in the city. Which isn't too surprising, since we only arrived about seven hours before. Be that as it may, she was interested, so we gave her the standard pamphlet and business card, and even told her about this blog, which she promised to visit.


Continuing our search took us around town, which is rather empty, as it is summer break at the aforementioned university. So onto Bentonville's pride and joy, the neighborhood Walmart. And unlike the men's rooms at the mall, these were quite disappointing. The thing flushed every thirty seconds. Quite disconcerting. We davened Mincha in the parking lot, getting more stares than your average elephant in New York, and started to head home, just ahead of an impending storm. Our car was, to put it nicely, a compact, and we felt every gust of wind. But we said the Tefilas Haderech (traveler's prayer) and made it safely to Lawrence, where a hot supper was waiting (thanks Zalmy).


And that, folks, is about it. Tomorrow we'll have some more info on the summer learning program. So stay tuned. This wasn't a very stimulating conclusion, was it?

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An Enjoyable and a Non-Existent Meeting (Respectively)
Monday, July 16, 2007 - 10:52 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Our first appointment in Manhattan was something else. He's an Israeli professor at K-State, she works with autistic children in Topeka. They have three kids, two grandkids, and like Chabad. Plus they know the scoop about everyone in town. We talked about the three weeks, the problem of assimilation, and even put Tefillin on him. It was really nice. Assimilation is a major problem for these small town Jews. The synagogue is little more than a social club, and there's no real sense of Jewish pride, or even Jewish people to hang out with. And that's why we're going out, trying to remind people that yes, they are Jewish, they have something to be proud of, and they should stick with the faith.


At 5:50 we realised that #1, we had an appointment at 6:00, and #2, that we didn't know the directions, and that #3, we hadn't finished up anyway with our current appointment. Twenty five minutes later we were knocking on the door. It didn't open. Oh well. I called, very apologetic, but there was nothing to be done.


We'll get to the library, Bentonville, and KU a bit later.

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Some longer words on Sunday
Sunday, July 15, 2007 - 8:25 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I just wrote for half an hour. It was pure genius. Then I accidentally clicked something, and poof! It was gone. Somewhere in cyber-heaven there's a post that will never come down. Sniff Sniff.


I got over it. Here's the new and improved Story of our Manhattan Adventures. We were driving on the I-70, and in between getting inspired by the mysterious Rabbi Gordon I made some phone calls, which went pretty well. Two people were interested in meeting us, one had no interest, one was a wrong number, and the answering machines were as always quite sweet.


Our first stop in Manhattan was the local mall. They had really cool sinks in the bathrooms. You put your hand in, and soap automatically comes out, followed shortly by water and then a grand finale of hot air to speed you on your way. Quite exciting, to tell the truth. The only problem (and there are always problems in this long and bitter exile) was that before one eats bread, one needs to wash from a cup, and those super-hight-tech sinks were not conducive to filling cups. Like true Shluchim of the Rebbe, we persevered. That's what water fountains are for. After enjoying Challah and tuna we went off to search for Jews among the stores. No luck. We went outside, and started going up the street, asking everyone if they were Jewish. Again, no luck. We did strike gold in the courthouse though. We had gone into a lawyer's office, of course he wasn't Jewish, and now met him in the local courthouse. Guess what? No, he hadn't suddenly performed a Halachic conversion, but he did know someone who didn't even have to. Mrs. Lawyer (I'd use names, but the goons at Chabad.org would come and smash my windows) came out. Yes, she's Jewish. Her husband is a professor at K-state. She lights Shabbos candles. Does it get any better? On our way out the palace of justice a young man wearing a large cross and a black hat stopped us and asked us where we got out hats. "Brooklyn," I replied, and answered his next query that they were Borsalinos, and cost about $160. Ridiculous, huh? The price you have to pay for fashion (religion).


Moving onto the next stop we discovered a ninety year old man who owns a business. We didn't actually meet him, as he was out to lunch (literally, not figuratively) so we just left some brochures and business cards. A guy in a jewelry shop told us about another guy, (ad infinitum) who also owns a shop. We did speak to him. Born in Manhattan, lived there all his life. Goes to Shul on the High Holidays. Good for him! Again, some brochures, etc, (another no-no in school, this time in 6th grade, "Don't you ever write 'etc.' on any reports!") and that was it.


Next time... appointments, Bentonville, and lightning

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Some quick words following Shabbos
Sunday, July 15, 2007 - 1:54 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Continuing in the vein of the previous post, here's some more inspirational stuff. (In third grade my teacher, Mrs. Ring, would always tell us not to use the word "stuff" because all it represented was Thanksgiving. I'm sorry Mrs. Ring).


Rabbi Gordon was one of only a few Bochurim with a beard when he was growing up in New York in the forties. He and a friend once went on the train, and the entire car (the people therein) stopped whatever they were doing to stare at two young men with beards. It was simply unheard of. Then in the sixties all the hippies started to grow them, but back in the forties? For a Jew to proclaim his religion? To follow in the footsteps of his fathers? And now look at us. So far, thank G-d, no anti-semitism. It's got to be weird to be stopped in the street by someone wearing a black hat and jacket (in 98 degree heat) and asked if you're Jewish. Someone even asked us if we had horns! (OK, I made that up, but it could have happened. This is Kansas for crying out loud.)


What I'm trying to say is, there's no longer any need to be ashamed of being Jewish, no reason to hide your identity. Just say it loud and clear and people respect you. This is America!


Sorry, this is getting soppy. I'm sorry. It's late, I'm tired, tomorrow will be better.


As we always end Farbrengens (Chassidic gatherings) with, "Tomorrow will be totally different!" And sometimes it actually is.

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Little Fruit
Friday, July 13, 2007 - 1:34 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Why do I have a great desire to begin every sentence with the word "so"? Is there something wrong with me? Should I take English comp. 101? Does anyone really care? Would you like it if I started writing about Manhattan and stopped gibbering?


They say that you can turn on cruise control, fall asleep, wake up, have lunch, turn the steering wheel, and be all good while driving on the I-70. Point is, it's a straight road. Not too much to look at either. Since it's the three weeks we can't listen to music, so instead I popped in a CD of a Farbrengen with Rabbi Gordon. Which Rabbi Gordon? I have no idea. Not that's it's too important anyway.


Here comes the inspirational part:


Rabbi Gordon said that some people ask, "Why go out and help Jews? Live in your own world, keep your kids religious, and let everyone else do their own thing." The answer is best explained through a parable. Life is a big sea. And when people come down into this world, they're dropped into that sea. Some people happen to fall onto boats. Some people are immediately swallowed up by the dark, frigid, shark-infested, non-chlorinated, probably salty waters. The guys on the boat get to suntan. And some people even fall off the boat. Now what's the law if you see someone foundering in the depths? You must go save them! There's no Well- I-have-a-schedule-plus-my-wife-will kill-me-if-I'm-late-what's-in-it-for-me type of talk. You go and rescue the drowning person. And if the cry of "Man Overboard!" is heard? Everything stops! The man (or woman, or child, or whatever) immediately becomes the focus of attention. You must save them!


The analogy is clear. Some lucky people are born into observant homes, where Torah is learned and Mitzvos are kept. And some people are born into the opposite. And they're drowning. And it's our responsibility to save them. And if someone leaves their religious lifestyle? A man is overboard? How much greater is our responsibility?


Inspiring, huh? I certainly thought so. And guess what? There's more! Joy!


Well, next time anyway. I have to go now.

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Finishing Up
Friday, July 13, 2007 - 2:18 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I think I'll finish with S. Joe, shall we, before moving on to Manhattan. Let's see, where was I...


Ah yes, City Hall. Magnificent building, made even more magnificent by the, well, magnificent air conditioning. Do I get a prize for using the word "magnificent" three times, in a relatively intelligent manner, in one sentence? I did mention it was hot, right? Anyway, no new info from the secretary, and so we drove off to the Pony Express Museum. None of the horses had any Jewish affiliation.


There was a store that we meant to visit, but by the time we arrived it had already closed. Oh, well. But right next to that was a beautiful park that we drove and walked around, finding many beautiful vistas but unfortunately no Jews. Then we had a brilliant idea. Where do people hang out? Baseball games. So we tried to find the baseball game. Forty minutes later we ended up at the town library, so we walked in.


Gold. Both librarians were very talkative, which is perfect, because so am I. Turns out there are no decent jobs in S. Joe, but there is plenty of meth. Sounds like a good place for a nice Jewish boy, huh? We did look in the White pages though, and finally found him. The one we'd been waiting for. The whole reason we'd come into northern Missouri. A JC Penney's.


Just kidding. We found a Jew. He didn't really want to meet with us. And so of course he didn't. We don't force people to do anything. It's counterproductive.


And besides for a quick stop at the local mall, punctuated by some more talkative but unfortunately non-Jewish people, that was basically it. A success? There's a famous story that two students went a'roaming and came home depressed, having accomplished nothing. And that Shabbos, the Rebbe said that no, they had accomplished. An old woman had seen two young men walking around, with beards, hats, and jackets, and decided to light Shabbos candles. Point is, you never know what you've done. And as I said, we certainly did our fair share of walking around in beards, hats, and jackets. So please do your part and light those Shabbos candles. ;)


Next Time: The Little Apple-Big results

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Onward and Upward
Thursday, July 12, 2007 - 11:02 AM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Hey, just a quick shout out: we're, with G-d's help, going to Manhattan today. No, not the big city, the place in Kansas. Don't worry, I'll finish off with S. Joe. OK, got to run, there are Jews waiting to be found...
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Moving Right Along
Wednesday, July 11, 2007 - 7:49 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
I'm actually doing something quite unique among roving rabbi types. For the first several weeks my partner, Shua Popper, and I are teaching people in a Chabad House and also going out in the (semi) wild west to look for people. Later we'll rove exclusively, but for now it's both. And you know what? They're both quite challenging.


For example, the first city we visited was S. Joseph, Missouri. It was a hot day. For some reason we couldn't find any contacts that the previous groups had made, so we were basically on our own. We were walking by the police station when we suddenly heard banging. Of course we looked up, and there was a guy waving at us. "Hey," we thought, "this is pretty easy! These guys are begging us to come!"


So we walked in, and the kind receptionist said, "People banging and waving? Oh, those must be the prisoners." And no, we weren't allowed to go and see if any were Jewish. The lady did give us the names and addresses of the two local synagogues, so we resolved to check out the situation. On our way back to the car I noticed the county office, so we went in. The commissioner was also very nice, and he was even friends with a (minister? priest? reverend?) "clergyman of another faith" who sits with the rabbi of one of the local synagogues on an interfaith board, and so we got a phone number. No one picked up the phones, or was by the synagogues, which was too bad.


Next Time...City Hall, Antiques, Baseball, and the local library

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Getting started...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007 - 2:16 PM
Posted by Chanan Maister
Wow! I'm finally on Merkos Shlichus, Roving Rabbis, whatever you want to call it. Point is, I'm here doing the Rebbe's work. Sure, the Talmud says that "G-d has many messengers" meaning that we're all sent out by G-d to improve this world, but this is something different. This is direct, official, no holds-barred action, bringing Jews closer to their Father in heaven, and bringing me closer to tuna and Matza. (There's very little Kosher food here, and tuna and matza are extremely transportable.) OK, things aren't that bad, thank heaven for Walmart and 7-11, which, by the way, is having free slurpies today. So, we're saving money for the cause, huh? Anyway, more later, Chanan

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Profile

Hey, we're Chanan Maister and Shua Popper, and we'll be providing you updates on our roving all summer long. Basics? Chanan lives in Minnesota, has two older sisters, no pets, and is a big fan of Lipa Schmeltzer. Shua lives in Coral Springs, Florida, and is very happy to be on the Rebbe's Shlichus.
Recent Posts

The end
Special Edition
The next day
Our first day
A Real Quickie
Internet is a Hot Commodity Out Here in Yehuppitzville!
A Quickie
The point is...
High Falutin' Plans for Wichita!
Fast nights and slow days
Beautiful S. Louis
Lawrence
Local
The Journey Continues...Oooh
An Enjoyable and a Non-Existent Meeting (Respectively)
Some longer words on Sunday
Some quick words following Shabbos
Little Fruit
Finishing Up
Onward and Upward
Moving Right Along
Getting started...
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Friday, August 10, 2007

The end

Well folks, the time has come to say goodbye. Snif Snif. But don't cry. Life goes on, as it always does. I'm only updating now because the website that I use to write the blog only works with Internet Explorer, and at home we have Safari.

So how would I rate Merkos Shlichus? It was pretty good. We could have done more. Truth is, is any situation, you could always do more. Which is a good thing. If you can't do more, then what's the point? Might as well just give up.

I'm sorry, this post is needlessly philosophical. My readers expect a blend of humor, irreverence, and deep religious conviction. Or so they tell me. Anyway, it's been a pleasure, and if anyone feels a need to communicate, they can always leave a post, with their real email (you know who you are), and I'll get back to you.

Man, goodbyes are so hard.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Just in case

If my blog on rovingrabbis.com gets canceled, then I'll come back here. Probably

Monday, August 6, 2007

Special Edition

I hope you're as excited as I am about this special edition of the Inviolable Redundant Tautology, brought to you courtesy of www.shmaisradio.com, playing some Lipa. This post will be a response to all the comments that I've received over the last several weeks, a topic which was actually suggested by a commenter last night. So, without further ado, here goes.

OK, not so fast. First a little caveat: I will digress, obfuscate, and generally wander around, touching on main points at oddly-spaced intervals. So reader beware. Oh, and I won't necessarily bring down the comment, but it shouldn't be too hard to figure out what I'm talking about.

We started off with my first post, about my excitement with the whole Shlichus thing. Glenn correctly pointed out that I've been doing the Rebbe's work all this time. My response? True, but not in such an obvious manner. I could never before claim to represent Lubavitch with any authority. But now I'm a bona fide spokesman. Another comment was really just a shoutout, so I'll leave it at that.

Excuse me, I have to turn off the music, they've put on some horrible boyband techno garbage.

Right, onto the next post, we have Raiza pointing out that it was a good thing that the cops didn't arrest us. One of the beautiful things about America is that we're innocent until proven guilty. And since we really weren't guilty, no harm befell us. Still, I appreciate the point, that suspicious characters inquiring at police stations do have reason to be wary of the law.

I just dealt very seriously with a comment that was never meant to be dealt with in that manner. Go me.

Baruch asked if I'd be traveling to Harrisonville, MO. I emailed him back, no response. Perhaps it was a prank. Perhaps he simply was scared off by me. Highly unlikely, I agree, that anyone would be scared by a couple of smiling rabbis, but you just never know.

Some sarcasm from my next earnest inquirer. He identifies himself as "the fake rabbi," so I didn't take him too seriously. Truth is, and I'm not saying this is a good thing, I take very few things seriously. It just is what it is. Brilliant.

50%gordonblood wrote...

My great uncle was a young bearded man named gordon growing up in New York in the forties. I don't think my grandfather had a beard yet in the forties. Anyways, I don't think grandpa made any tapes.

This is what it is. What am I supposed to do, call the guy a liar? I know what I know, and that's that. But still, of course, I'm happy that we got some personal history to spice up the blog. Following the descendant was someone suggesting I use the word "shtuff" instead of "stuff". It's cute, but now my style. Yinglish, to me, is not the most desired of languages.

Some of the comments were questions that I answered in the blog, so I won't bother going into them. Glenn asked if we packed Shabbos candles, and we did; not for us, for the people who needed them to light. To Curious George my only response is that curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the monkey.

And now we get a new record. Three people commenting. Isn't that incredible? Three people took their time, their own precious time, and donated it to Chabad. How absolutely wonderful. Oh, their comments? Let's see...

My Number One Fan said that he thought my comment about the tuneup was so funny he literally gave vent to his feelings with a series of laughing sounds. You know, I've been saying that line, or some variation of it, for years now, and this is the first time anyone's acknowledged getting it. Take this as a compliment, my number one fan, on your highly developed sense of humor. The other two comments were once again shoutouts, which again I appreciate, because it shows that someone cares. In the case of these two people, I can vouch that they really do.

("ha'orech wrote... I think it came out great" This one's a bit private, so I don't think I'll elaborate.)

Almost done now, don't fret. It seems that I haven't lived up to my promise to wander. Sorry.

Ah, the infamous shower comment. True, It's not infamous yet, but, at least for anyone reading this, it soon will be. Deepest, darkest, America? Listen, it's not like I'm in Mississippi or something. We have running water here once a week, and then we have a communal shower. Just kidding. About the communal shower part. In reality we each get thirty-six seconds to take care of our weekly ablutions.

All cities are beautiful in my book? I wouldn't say all. Most, perhaps. I wouldn't want anyone reading the blog from somewhere I had been to be insulted. But in truth, some cities are less beautiful than others. For example, downtown Detroit, from what I've heard, isn't the world's hottest place. Except during the gang wars, then it gets pretty exciting.

Hand soap. It's just one of those things that so many people take for granted. But not me. Not anymore. And as for bodywash? If they don't have any, then what? Some people still use bars to wash their hands, but that's so 1967. And as to the straightness of the I-70, well, yes, it is pretty straight. And yes, thank the one above for Lipa. Or, as I type, Dudu Fisher, who isn't bad, in is own way. Actually, in my long-ago childhood I sang with the dear man at a concert put on by my school in Milwaukee. What fun that was! I wish I remembered something of the experience.

And the final comment, until now, we have the high priest. Not the actual one, of course. No one knows where he is. Been missing for over two thousand years. But the one in the parking lot was dressed in a reasonable-enough representation. Except for his white tights and sandals. The priests didn't wear shoes. They walked barefoot on the cold stone floors of the holy temple in Jerusalem. But again, this wasn't Jerusalem, this was Sedalia, and I'm not about to tell a non-Jewish guy to take his shoes off and walk barefoot on wet concrete. There are laws against that kind of thing. I assume. Perhaps we could have been arrested, which ties in nicely to the beginning of this column. And with that, for today, I bid you adeiu.

Next time...however the spirit strikes me

Sunday, August 5, 2007

The next day

Did I mention that we went to the cemetery in Columbia? I used to be kind of freaked out by those places. They're so, well, full of dead people.

And the one in Columbia was no different. There's a small section for the Jews. It seems like most of them were from Germany, and arrived in the early twentieth century. They've got a nice resting place; sunny (well, sometimes anyway), trees, bunch of dead non-Jews around, and even a busy street twenty feet away.

After a quick pit-stop for some soda (the eternal debate continues: which is better, Dr. Pepper, or Pibb Xtra. It's a tough question, but so far I'm holding out for the latter. As a kid it was always Dr. Pepper, but the taste just seems different now. Who knows?)

After doing our usual thing (stopping at the mall, making a bunch of phone calls, having no one respond, walking around the mall searching, etc.) we decided to drive down to Osage Beach, which is the gateway to Lake of the Ozarks. It's a big lake. Not as big as the Great Lakes, but still big. The hotel there didn't even have shampoo. These are the sacrifices one makes on Merkos Shlichus, I guess. I called up one of the names on our list, an Israeli, and he thought I was a terrorist. I told him I was Chabad. He responded, "OK, just don't bring your shotgun." Instead of the firearms, we brought Tefillin, which he was happy to put on. What's an Israeli doing in the middle of Missouri? Selling T-shirts of course. And Henna. And a bunch of other things.

We stopped by the visitors bureau to see if they had any information. They did. A shul. Amazing! Bnei Haagam. Children of the Lake. Cute name, no? Anyway, after speaking to the person at the end of the phone we discovered that the congregation no longer exists, because everyone either died or moved. Sad. We dropped off some pamphlets for a couple doctors, and drove back to Columbia for the class.

The class was quite classy. Michael and his wife prepared some light refreshments, and Shua, my partner, gave a class on "What is Chabad?" And then we talked for two and a half hours with the five people who came about theology, Chabad, life, etc. You know, the works.

On Thursday we had a meeting with the owner of a hippy-type store, who was actually happy to see us. We were of course happy to see him. Again, we discussed what exactly we were doing in Columbia, what he was doing in Columbia, what Columbia was doing in Columbia, and real estate. No, really. He's moving into the business, so we shared some tips that we've gleaned over the years in Chabad. I'd share these tips with you too, but that wouldn't be fair to all the Shluchim out there.

A little while later we started the drive back to Kansas City, stopping in such metropolises (metropoli?) as Jefferson City, Sedalia, and California. In Sedalia we ran into (not literally) a guy dressed in the garb of a Kohen Gadol, a high priest. He's a Messianic Christian, and we had an interesting conversation. He asked us why we don't accept J, and we explained that the guy just doesn't make the cut for us.

Next time...More of the same

Friday, August 3, 2007

Our first day

I'd love to be able to write that I was really inspired while driving down the I-70 this time. But I wasn't. Not that it wasn't pleasant. After all, can the sweet sounds of Lipa Schmeltzer ever be a non-pleasant experience?

So we got to Columbia. The standardization of America continues with mile after mile of look-a-like strip malls. We stopped in one, made some phone calls, the only guy who picked up wasn't too interested in meeting us. He was a South African. My parents are South Africans. I was planning on playing that trump card, but our conversation was a bit too brief. It's not like I'm going to start off talking with a "Hi, my name is Chanan Maister, my parents are SAers, we're from Chabad, visiting Jews in the area, did I mention my parents were from SA, would you like to meet us, see a SA descendant?" It just wouldn't work. Oh well.

We spoke with another guy. He's not just another guy. Actually. Michael. He's a great guy. Wants to have Chabad in Columbia. Is working to bring Chabad to Columbia. What more could you ask?

He told us that he got involved in Judaism when his daughter told him she didn't want to be Jewish. Now after two years in Tzivos Hashem, Chabad's children program/club/group, she wants to be Orthodox. Pretty good, no?

So we chatted a bit, and then he gave us a tour of the city. Like Manhattan, it's alive because of the institute of higher learning located there, Missouri University, commonly known as Mizzou. It has about 650 Jewish students. On Tuesday we met with the director. She offered us cold water to drink (What else would we do with it?). As I've mentioned before, it's tough going around in 98 degree weather wearing a hat and jacket. The director was very nice. And we even put Tefillin on one of the students who was there. He's from Baltimore, and enrolled in the journalism school at Mizzou. We made some more phone calls, and arranged to give a class at Michael's house on Wednesday night.

As for the details you're all undoubtedly waiting for: our hotel. Yes, it was nice. What I don't get is, why do they have two different bodysoaps, three different shampoos, and yet no handsoap? I like to wash my hands, as I'm sure do most people, and it's really quite distressing. OK, not that distressing, but come on? Hey, even Yeshiva had handsoap!

I'm getting a bit, shall we say, "full" of writing, so more later.

A Real Quickie

Just to let all my loyal readers out there know that we're doing fine, thank G-d, and I'll be writing a full report. Soon. Relatively. Eventually. In this lifetime.