Happy Hanukkah, Ziggy

Monday, December 16, 2019
"Priced Out of Harlem," a headline from this weekend's real estate section would have been unimaginable through most of my lifetime.  I now greet it with mixed emotions, pleased that this predominantly African-American neighborhood is viewed as an attractive place to live, but acknowledging that this results to a large degree by the displacement of African-Americans by whites, caused by and, in turn, causing a steep climb in real estate values.

Unlike many white New Yorkers, Harlem was not a mystery to those of us who attended CCNY, which ran, at the time, from 133rd Street to 140th Street, centered around Convent Avenue.  We all lived at home and, with rare exception, took the subway to school.  I took the "A" train to either 125th Street or 145th Street, according to where on campus my day began.  After school, I would shop for jazz records on 125th Street and, occasionally, on weekends, went to the Apollo Theater for jazz concerts.  I recall seeing Count Basie, Gerry Mulligan and Dinah Washington among others there.  However, I never set foot in any Harlem resident's home nor did any African-American classmate (and there were a few) come to Woodhaven.  Of course, I never invited any.
. . .

Among the wedding announcements in the Sunday society pages, there was report of an "elopement ceremony" at a Manhattan restaurant, complete with a photograph of the couple celebrating.  I have a hard time mixing elopement with Manhattan restaurants.  Once, elopement meant running away, hiding from family and friends, likely to discourage the effort.  For New Yorkers, elopement meant Elkton in Maryland, a state which had no restrictions on marriage.  "Elkton being the northeasternmost county seat in Maryland (and thus closer to Philadelphia, New York, and New England), was particularly popular" for those in a hurry.  One of my cousins took advantage of this, no photographers, no newspaper coverage; the good old days.
. . .

I was in midtown at lunchtime today and went to Urbanspace Vanderbilt, that bustling food hall adjacent to Grand Central Terminal, where I am consistently three times the modal age of the other patrons.  I bought a bulgogi egg roll at Korilla, a Korean joint, actually two pieces for $7.50, described as "Our marinated bulgogi steak with cheese whiz wrapped in a (sic) eggroll shell and deep fried to perfection."  Recommended.

. . .

Tonight, we went to Merkin Hall, a gem of a facility free of the occasionally glum seriousness of Lincoln Center.  The program was "Dreaming of a Jewish Christmas," performed by professional soloists and combined choirs of young men and women.  They sang:

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year"

"White Christmas"

"Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow"

"The Christmas Song"

"Silver Bells"

"The Christmas Waltz"

"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer"

"Santa Baby"

"Do You Hear What I Hear?"

"I'll Be Home For Christmas"

All words and music were by Jews, except for the lyrics of the last two numbers.  Over compensation or insidious vitiation of American culture?

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

Is this what it's like getting old?  I had an eye doctor's appointment today at 1:30 on East 76th Street, just off Lexington Avenue.  The nasty weather insured that I would take buses to get there, uptown on Amsterdam Avenue, crosstown on 79th Street.  (For the transit purists who will point to the subway stop at the corner of Lexington Avenue and East 77th Street, I must note that the uptown Amsterdam Avenue bus stop is three blocks closer than the 66th Street crosstown stop, my link to the subway on the East Side, effecting a tie on distance traversed by each route.)

So, I get off the 79th Street crosstown bus at Lexington Avenue and 79th Street and walk directly past Pastrami Queen, 1125 Lexington Avenue, between 79th Street and 78th Street, without going in, because I was feeling a bit schvach.  No pastrami, no corned beef, just me in decline. 

. . .

This is the oath that United States Senators must take at the commencement of a trial for removal of a federal official:

"I will do impartial justice according to the Constitution and laws.  So help me God."  And then, there is the announcement by Senator Lindsay Graham about the impending trial of the president, "I am trying to give a pretty clear signal I have made up my mind.  I'm not trying to pretend to be a fair juror here."

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

I had the pleasure of spending a few hours with Benjamin Gonzalez, my grandnephew, born in Argentina, now a senior at the University of California Santa Cruz, home of the Banana Slugs.  We walked from Herald Square to Union Square on this moderately cold afternoon. 

While I imagined that Benjamin would marvel at the many wonderful sights and sites that we came upon, I was the one gushing and gulping as we moved along.  I saw so many things that weren't there yesterday, I swear.  More often than not they were audacious in their contrast with existing structures.  In some cases, when I recalled what had been replaced, the changes were for the better, aesthetically and for the safety and comfort of the occupants, although the new occupants were rarely the old occupants, the curse of gentrification (as in "Priced Out of Harlem").   

After a stop at the iconic Strand Book Store, 828 Broadway ("18 miles of books"), we took the subway to Chinatown and, inevitably, Wo Hop, 17 Mott Street.  After all, this kid should be around for well more than another half century to recall the good old days.

We both had large bowls of egg drop won ton soup at the special lunch price of $2.  Then, we shared honey crispy beef ($14.95), beef fried rice ($7.95) and Singapore chow fun ($8.75), which meant that we had an awful lot of awfully good food to eat.  I was able to leave Benjamin with friends from Argentina and rush home for a nap.

. . .

I needed the nap, because the day wasn't over.  At night, Irwin Wall, retired University of California professor of European History, spoke at West End Synagogue about the Jewish character of Sigmund Freud, part of a series including Marx, Einstein and Kafka.  One of the  many things that I learned from Professor Wall was that Freud was aggressively atheistic while remaining aggressively Jewish, a distinction between Judaism and Jewishness that many of us maintain.  Freud called himself "a godless Jew," yet, when he asked himself “Since you have abandoned all these common characteristics of your countrymen, what is there left to you that is Jewish?” he replied: “A very great deal, and probably its very essence” (Preface to the Hebrew translation of Totem and Taboo).