"I don't want a niche – I want an empire!" – Michael Wex, Globe and Mail
After twenty-five years in an apartment previously occupied by Glenn Gould, I’m about to move into a beautiful, roomy house in one of Toronto’s most impeccably gentile neighborhoods, ten minutes by foot from the nearest shul. Looking the place over while the previous owners were still in residence reminded me of one of my mother’s favorite terms of opprobrium: shlimazlnitseh, a bad housekeeper, the female embodiment of domestic clumsiness and ill luck. (more...)
Michael Wex and Henry Sapoznik ham it up (if you'll pardon the expression) at Di Hoo-Ha
The entire Wex family just returned from another great week at Klezkamp.
This year marks the 25th anniversary of the Yiddish Cultural event which takes place near Kerhonkson in upstate New York.
It was truly a vintage year - registrations were up, the dress-up ball Di Hoo-Ha was a massive success and Mrs. Wex had more kids in the Klezkids program than ever before.
And with an exciting announcement by founder Henry Sapoznik (pictured above) regarding the University of Wisconsin's support Klezkamp's future looks better than ever before.
If you would like to spend a week getting away from Christmas to immerse yourself in Yiddish culture then check out the Klezkamp website.
As this festive season of the year draws to a long-awaited close, I have to confess that, like so many members of other communities, I’ve been dreaming lately. Not of a white Christmas, particularly, but of “White Christmas” itself, the Irving Berlin song that has become virtually synonymous with the American idea of Christmas. (more...)
One hotel room, non-smoking, Anytown, U.S.A.
A book of matches with the words “Success Without Kollel” printed on the cover.
Eight small, braided candles; nine, if you count the shammes.
A battered prayer-book, its pages daubed with candle wax and stained with tears, said to have been presented to Jerome “Curly” Howard of the Three Stooges on the occasion of his bar-mitzvah. (more...)
“Ven freyt zikh an oremen?” asks the Yiddish proverb. “What makes a pauper rejoice? Az er farlirt un gefint, When he finds something that he’s lost”––because a pauper can’t afford a replacement. This is especially true when what’s been lost is one’s youth.
I was interviewed last week by a journalist whom I’ve known since we were in high school. Though never close, he and I have always been cordial; we were both good friends of a third schoolmate and saw a fair bit of each other at one time.
At the end of the interview, he said, “I’ve got something for you. It’s a little embarrassing, but, well, we’ll see what you think.” (more...)
