Snow

Yesterday it snowed. I'm not overly put out, thanks to my moccasins from Lands End. I even shoveled Shillibeer's driveway, a selfless act of kindness that ended with me singing Niggunim to Shillibeer's baby to try to get her to fall asleep in my arms. Cute, no?
In other news, I'd appreciate if Zalman would email me, and then I could email him. Brilliant, no?
What's with all the Jewish inflection? No?
Anyway, what with all this snow and everything, I've barely had any time to come up with anything inspiring for the upcoming holiday of Chanuka. But don't worry, I won't disappoint. Chanuka is the holiday when we Jews leave our homes and brave the cold (not like CH, 25, but 10) and go out to light up the world. Some people foolishly think that we don't have to do Pirsumei Nisah (Publicizing the miracle) with Goyim. Well, they are wrong, as clearly shown by the great JB Soloveitchik in one of his Sefarim. For more on that, email R. Wilhelm.
Point is, we have a sacred duty as Jews to light up the world. How do we accomplish this? It's not easy, I'll tell you that much. Chanuka at least people know about, and usually respond well. Last year, in Williamsburg, I asked a woman if she had a Menorah? She started screaming at me, "Every block you ask me that! I'm not Jewish!" Now I did get a fair amount of doubles, but I knew that she had never passed by me. Plus, I obviously did not run to every block in front of her path in order to ask if she was Jewish. Then I realized that there were indeed Bochurim on every corner, and she thought we were all one guy. So I apologized, and that was that, but it taught me a valuable lesson: There is no "I" in "Team". No, really, it showed that a guy can have the best of intentions and have them be thrown back in his face like so many flies on a windshield. But I don't mind. Really.