Morton hears a moo

When it precipitates, the salt comes out in vast torrents. Of course, if NY, has its way, there will be no more salt food. Aside from the obvious, like how will they serve cold cuts, there remains a deeper issue. Generally, in order to stop something, it's wise to not only stop the result but also the effect. In this case, will NY stop the rain so that the salt will stop pouring? I merely inquire.

In any case, a big Mazal Tov to Yossi and Bat Sheva Shomer on their wedding last night. It was quite the wedding, as these things go, and Yossi danced very nicely. I'd post some photos of myself from the wedding, but none of the websites have posted anything yet, so perhaps I'll post some at a later time. I also had quite the tête-à-têt with Rabbi Chaim Schapiro, among others (as in, I had conversations with others, not that the tête-à-têt was with others, which of course is impossible.

Earlier in the day I bumped into the several times aforementioned Shaya Lowenstein and his bride to be, Mushka Raigorodsky, who informed me their plans to be nuptialized in beautiful Los Angeles, California. Did I just say beautiful? Ha! The only beautiful part of LA, CA, is inside 7215 Waring Avenue, Los Angeles, California 90046. Regardless, I asked the future Lowensteins if they'd be flying me out to their wedding as part of the shadchanus gelt they owe me. I was told to take my wife for a honeymoon in LA. Forget that LA is a terrible place for a honeymoon, and that attending someone you don't know from bean's wedding for six hours is a miserable thing which I would never do to my wife, I still thought my ticket should be sponsored- after all, I made the shidduch, correct (it would be difficult to fly a basement anywhere)? Shaya mentioned that just like I went to my shadchan's wedding, I should go to his. As the Rosh would say, "touché"!

Update

Big Mazal Tov to Zalman Friedman (Big Fan) on his engagement to Brochie Marazov (presumably a future big fan).

Also, here's a couple pics of yours truly at last night's wedding, courtesy of COL.

In this pic you can see me and Chaz looking into each other's eyes. Rather strange.
Only two of the people in this pic are currently married. Email me if you want info about any of the others...

Better late than never, eh?

Last night I attended yet another lchaim, and this time, I'm sorry to say, I did not encounter Shaya Lowenstein while I was walking home. Actually, I encountered my chavrusa from last year, but that's a different story for a different time. The reason I did not encounter Rabbi Lowenstein on my walk home was because it was in fact his lchaim. Yes, once again, the power that is TRS has worked its funky voodoo thing again. A few months after only the briefest of mentions, Shaya is engaged to Mushka Raigorodsky of LA, CA. Do I take full credit for this remarkable turn of events? I'm much too humble for that, but I will begin accepting advertisement from eligible singles.

Strange ways

I saw a couple of very strange things this Shabbos. The first came as I was walking to 770, that bastion of messianic insanity, and coming up towards me was a woman wearing a tichel. This in itself is not so normal, but it's also not exactly blog material. As she came closer I noticed that she had something in her hand, and she was licking it. No, it wasn't a shiatsu, it was an ice cream bar!

Later on, while walking home from some Shabbos visiting with the dear wife, we encountered what seemed at first to be a normal site: Israeli guy, pointy shoes and tight suit, wearing a kippah, smoking a cigarette- hold on there one moment, smoking a cigarette? On the holy Shabbat day? While wearing a kippah? The mind boggles!

The first incident did not perturb me so much, because I've seen this woman before, and I believe she could be charitably classified under the "Crown Heights Crazies" label. The second case though? I'm just not sure. What in the world was this guy thinking?

Final thoughts?

Over the last couple of weeks I've been trying to decide whether I should close down this here blog or not. The little hiatus with the tznius thing was cute, and it showed that when I have something to write about I can still crank it out like it was 2009 (did you read the original letter? A masterpiece!), but then again, all that goes to show you is that right now I really have nothing to write about. The piece I did on Motzei Shabbos was really nice, vintage TRS, but opportunities for that kind of thing are now few and far between.

At various times I considered shutting down this here blog permanently, but it seems that some of you like to read the archives (I can't imagine why), so I guess that woudn't be a very nice thing to do. I could let it lie fallow, like some other bloggers, only posting once in a blue moon, but that-- well, that's essentially what I'm doing anyway. You may wonder why I'm writing all this, or as e would call it, "Metablogging", but I suppose it's because I want some sort of closure, if indeed that is to occur, or at least to notify people that I'm still around, just temporarily muzzled. Take it as you will.

We found out who the committee is!

We found out who they are!

A Chassidishe Melave Malka

I was at a Shabbos Table today (thank you the Amazing Yankel!) and I heard a couple of cool Baal Shem Tov stories, and since it's Motzei Shabbos I think it would be appropiate to relay them to all of you people out there.

The chassidim of the Tzemach Tzedek were once sitting around discussing the stories of the Baal Shem Tov, and trying to figure out how some of the more incredible ones happened. The Tzemach Tzedek walked in, heard what was going on, and said, "Every story of the Baal Shem Tov could certainly have happened, but there are three of them that I still can't figure out." He then proceeded to tell one of them.

There was once a guy who was married to his wife for ten years and they had no kids. He went to the Baal Shem Tov, who told him to stay married. The guy listened, and lo and behold ten years passed and the couple still had no kids. He came to the Baal Shem Tov and complained that he still had no kids. The Baal Shem Tov said, "Stay married." The guy said, "Look, I've been married for ten years for the Torah, and ten years for you, but I can't deal with this anymore."

The guy went home, divorced his wife, remarried, and had an absolutely miserable life. Like, entirely evilly crazy. Or something like that. He came to the Baal Shem Tov and complained that his life was so horrible- what had he done to deserve it? Sure, he hadn't listened to the Baal Shem Tov's advice, but was what he did so terrible?

The Baal Shem Tov took the guy to the local Synagogue, pulled out a Sefer Torah, opened it up, and showed to the guy a possuk that said, "This guy son of this guy (the guy in the story) should not divorce his wife." The Baal Shem Tov said, "What can I do? It's written in the Torah."

The Tzemach Tzedek did not understand how the story happened, but he said that if anyone could do it, the Baal Shem Tov could.
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There once was a local innkeeper who didn't have any money, so the local Poretz threw him in the local deep dark dank pit. The Baal Shem Tov heard about this, and he fundraised here and there, and lo and behold he collected enough money to free the innkeeper and repatriate him to his long-suffering wife and children. Unfortunately though, there was not enough time for the innkeeper to go home for Shabbat, so he graciously accepted an invitation from the Baal Shem Tov.

The Baal Shem Tov's table was surrounded by the usual assortment of holy men and beggars (and many were one and the same), and the innkeeper had a place of honor at the head of the table. The Baal Shem Tov asked him, "Nu? Vos Is Neais?" The innkeeper told him that it had been a pretty regular pit, with pretty regular miseries. The Baal Shem Tov said, "Really? There was nothing special about your jail?" The innkeeper responded, "Well, now that you mention it, there is something..."

The innkeeper continued...

I wasn't alone in the pit, there were a whole bunch of other people there too. It was a pretty big pit, so I spent all my time on one side, and they spent all their time on their side. It was very strange- they would cry and mourn and generally be in a depressed state of mind the whole week, Sunday through Friday morning, but then Friday afternoon through Shabbos they partied like it was 1697. They did this every week for as long as I could remember, and it was really weird. I never asked them what was going on, because it was rather disturbing, and I didn't want anything to happen to me.

One week I found them much more depressed than normal, if that were possible. This afternoon, right before I was freed, they were much happier, exceedingly so, much more than normal. Knowing that I was to be released soon after, I approached the leader of the group and asked him what gave. He told me that, incredibly enough, he was not a man, nor were all the others of his group, but rather they were demons! Their whole life source came from a very holy man, which was a bit of a downer, because he was a very holy man, so they didn't have much of a life force. He fasted from week to week, and the demons suffered tremendously. Every Friday afternoon he would prepare himself a cup of milk, and prepare himself to drink it. The demons would send a messenger demon to the holy man's house, and just before the holy man could drink it the demon would spill it all over the floor. The holy man would get angry, and the demons would get life force for the weekend. They would party for a bit, but then the new week would start, and they'd be back to suffering.

One week (this week) the holy man decided that enough was enough, so he locked up the cup of milk in his safe so that it could not spill. The demons were very sad about this, because they knew they wouldn't get any life force that week. Nevertheless, they decided to send a demon just to see if it could do anything.

There was a guy selling super cheap wood that day who was coming up the road, and the holy man's wife got really excited. Super cheap wood! Woohoo! She approached the holy man, informed him of the upcoming woodsman, and begged him to allow her to purchase some for the house. The holy man said, "Sure thing, here's the key to my safe so you can get some money to buy some wood." The wife went over to the safe to get the money, and she spilled the milk! The demons were very happy. Super happy.

thus ended the innkeeper's tale...

While the innkeeper was finishing his tale one of the holy men around the Baal Shem Tov's table collapsed in a faint. Turns out he was the holy man in the story!

The Baal Shem Tov explained the incredible Hashgocha Pratis in the story. The innkeeper was imprisoned with the demons, only to be freed by the Baal Shem Tov, but it was too late for him to go home, so he went to the Baal Shem Tov's house, and told the story...

Closed For Renovation

Yup

Even though you've all probably seen this countless times before...

There were once four brothers: Everyone, Someone, Anyone and Noone. They had a very important task to do. Everyone was sure that Someone will do it. Anyone could have done it, but Noone did it in the end. Someone was angry because it'd have been Everyone's job. Everyone thought that Anyone could have done it, but Noone realized that Noone will do it in the end. In the end, Everyone was angry at Someone because Noone did what Anyone could've done.

Mazal Tov Mendel+Dvora!!

Most of you know my sister as an awesome cook, master hostess, and mother of two of the cutest daughters ever. This morning she added a baby boy to the mix- my very first nephew! Anyway, it's a big party, and you're all invited- more details to follow.

Pitchers and catchers reporting soon...

Furthermore, koching in sports is not chassidish. So, if a sport requires you to koch in it (follow the statistics of certain players, etc.) in order to enjoy it, since on the face value, there is no action going on, the sport itself is not chassidish. And since chassidishkeit is a measure of perfection of all things... well, there you go.

Someone recently wrote the above comment to attempt to prove that soccer was better than baseball and football. This person's argument appears to be that all sports are bad, but soccer is slightly better than other sports because it takes no particular ability or intelligence to understand the game. Furthermore it is posited that "chassidishkeit" is the measure of perfection of all things, and if soccer comes closer to the ideals of "chassidishkeit" than anything else then it must be the best sport.

This argument is specious for a couple of reasons. First of all, it's stated that being involved in sports is not chassidish, but there is no attempt to prove that is true; the author merely states his opinion and then proceeds to his flawed conclusion based on that premise. The author compounds this faulty logic by ascertaining that "chassidishkeit is the measure of perfection of all things", a completely baseless opinion that has no bearing in reality.

In short, opining that baseball is not chassidish because there's a certain interest in statistics is a fallacious argument that merely belies soccer's own extreme tear-inducing boredom. Baseball, on the contrary, has tension before, during, and after every pitch, as opposed to soccer which has a bunch of guys doing wind sprints and kicking each other's shins. Baseball's statistic's driven culture results in a truly intelligent way to judge the game and its players, as opposed to soccer, which relies on emotions and things like "beauty" to measure its performance. As everyone knows, the true measure of "chassidishkeit" is how it relates to chassidus, and since chassidus equals Chabad, it's obvious that intellectual appreciation is what is valued, i.e. baseball, not the emotionally charged game of soccer. Baseball appreciates the brain, allowing it to exercise its considerable talents, much like Chabad Chassidus, unlike soccer, which is just a bunch of guys running around do wind sprints and kicking a ball.