Five Jews are sitting on a park bench.
“Oy,” says the first.
“Oy vey,” says the second.
“Oy vey iz mir,” says the third.
“Oy gevalt,” says the fourth.
The fifth says, “Can we just this once stop talking about the Iran deal?”
Kol Nidrei.
Tonight’s service is named for this prayer that we heard toward the beginning of our service. Kol Nidrei is so powerful, so important, so meaningful – that we stand during its threefold recitation. In fact, it is only during the singing of Kol Nidrei that we take all of our Torahs scrolls out of the ark and stand before their holy words, messages and inspirations. You may not know the name of Moses’ wife, you may not know the difference between the Mishna and the Talmud, but I bet that you can hum the beginning of the haunting melody of Kol Nidrei.
I’ve always wanted to be on Jeopardy.
I love everything about it – its competitive spirit, the display of lightning like intellectual and physical reflexes that recall all matters of intellectual ephemera, and the sometimes witty banter between contestants and Alex Trebek.
Several friends of mine have applied to be contestants. One, a reform rabbi in New York City, even made it on earlier this year. I’ve learned that if you completely ace the tryout questions, you will most likely not be asked to continue to the next steps of the tryout process. In other words, if you are perfect, you’re not good enough.
High School. First kiss. Graduation. College. First job. Marriage. Yesteryear. The good ole days.
Nostalgia is a booming business.
In recent years, social media has popularized what has come to be known as ‘tbt’ – throwback Thursday. On Thursdays, it takes one quick glance on Facebook to see pictures of friends with that crazy hair from high school, or a gorgeous wedding portrait from over 40 years ago. We use our present technologies to go back to the past. Apps, services and Web sites try and tap into our yearnings for yesterday.
There’s a bad joke incoming, but nostalgia is just not what it used to be.