Here Comes The Judge

Monday, December 3, 2018
I received some interesting Hanukkah gifts from kind and generous friends.  Here is my favorite:

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I don't know Michael Wolfe personally (not Michael Wolff, author of Fire and Fury, either), but he has taken on the daunting task of rating Jewish food. 
http://www.toolazytowriteabook.com/2018/09/13/definitive-absolutely-correct-ranking-jewish-foods/

His claim to be absolutely correct guarantees that he is not, but he has to be applauded for the effort.  However, had he ingested Fairway's whitefish salad (listed at #38 of 40), chocolate chip mandel bread (mandelbrot) baked by my wife, daughter-in-law Irit, sister-in-law Judi (a/k/a Aunt Judi) or niece Shoshana (#36), Danny Macaroons' macaroons (#32), Mother Ruth Gotthelf's gefilte fish (or the deep fried gefilte fish that Aunt Judi buys for Passover) (#25), Yonah Schimmel's knishes (heated in an oven, not a microwave) (#23), he would have to rethink his scoring.  But, that's part of the beauty of talking about Jewish food or Jewish anything, it leads to an argument.

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

For the last couple of years that I worked in the New York State Supreme Court, I spent one day a week working with Ilana Marcus, a fellow court attorney.  While no more than half my age, I found her to be a wonderful colleague, smart, organized, diplomatic and thorough.  I was delighted, therefore, to learn that she was running for a judgeship right in my home district.  (Life if too short to try and understand New York election law, even in the seemingly narrow field of judicial contests.) 

She ran unopposed, which is the way the system works, and her installation was tonight.  Hundreds of people showed up, many from within the court system, friends, family and politicians who helped clear her path.  Ilana deserved this attention and I believed that even before I ate the hand-rolled Peking duck wraps that highlighted the lavish buffet provided after the ceremony.

Wednesday, December 5, 2018
Speaking of duck, the Four Seasons, formerly at 99 East 52nd Street, consistently served the best duck that I have ever had.  That was one reason that I considered it my favorite restaurant anywhere, enhanced by the physical structure; internal design elements; dignified, attentive service; and food generally.  A bargain, all things considered, was the three-course pre-theater menu that included the "Farmhouse" duck, once at $40, eventually costing $70.

Two years ago, the Four Seasons closed after a dispute with its landlord, the space taken over by an even more luxurious enterprise, which, like the other shul, I vowed never to set foot in.  It reopened this summer at a nearby location and, if I follow the review in The New York Times, I may never bother to go there either. 
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/04/dining/four-seasons-review.html

The review reflects the current state of consciousness in so many fields -- private conduct overshadowing public performance -- taking several column inches discussing the conduct of one of the owners, who pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor felony charge of sexual abuse in 2016, reduced from a felony charge.  He also had been sued for sexual harassment in 1991 and settled a suit for gender discrimination in 2014.  Knowledge of this could ruin a person's appetite. 
. . .

I became devoted to the music of Thelonious Monk more than 60 years ago.  His jangly dissonance appealed to me in almost any context, as soloist, group leader or accompanist and irritant to Miles Davis -- listen to the brilliant recording of "Bags' Groove" where Monk wasn't allowed to play a note until Miles finished his solo (https://video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=tightropetb&p=bags+groove+miles+monk#id=10&vid=dc5d162bf7b3762769f861c63a0eb91f&action=view).

Beyond the purely musical, I have several emotional connections to Monk.  He went to Stuyvesant High School, but didn't graduate.  He died on my birthday in 1982; my private shiva consisted of playing his music for 10 uninterrupted hours.  He lived across the street from my present location, although decades before I arrived. 

  

Appropriately, I found the news from the 29th Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition particularly interesting.  https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/04/arts/music/thelonious-monk-competition-tom-oren.html

There was some ethnocentric gratification in the first place taken by 24-year-old Israeli pianist Tom Oren, but it was coupled with the sad news that the competition is ending, at least as named for Thelonious Monk.  There are hints of discord between his family and the sponsoring organization, befitting Monk's history of battles with other musicians, club owners and the New York City Police Department.     

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Grandpa Alan's Broadway Briefing

Skip To Kill A Mockingbird, a preachy work with amateurish acting, and rush to The Ferryman, real drama, professionally performed.
. . .

I agree that Elizabeth Warren made a tactical error by having a DNA test to establish her alleged Native American ancestry.   https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/06/us/politics/elizabeth-warren-dna-test-2020.html

Trying to return fire from the unpopularly-elected president just doesn't seem to work, whether he has better aim with his mudslinging or his mud sticks better.  What interests me is the reaction that her gaffe has aroused.  "The lingering cloud over her likely presidential campaign has only darkened." 

She should have just simply insulted John McCain, grabbed men by the testicles, refused to release her tax returns, and bankrupted her flagship businesses stiffing lenders, vendors and workers along the way.  That would put her in the proper frame for the presidency.