Feeling my age

I know you are as young as you feel and all that pep-talk stuff, but MAN.
Hanging out yesterday with a couple of mamas of kids around my little kids' age as they figured out where they knew each other from... until one of them said, "I know - you're Rabbi {Ploni}'s daughter, right?"  And she was.
Well... Rabbi {Ploni} was my choir teacher in Hebrew school - a crush and an inspiration all in one.  And I remember when he got married; I made my mother buy them some kind of gift (she bought a crystal tray, I think...I'm sure it was lovely and appropriate, though she rolled her eyes copiously at buying a lavish gift for this teacher who she probably didn't think all that highly of).
Did I go to the ceremony?  I don't think so, but I did drag her to his shul one Shabbos morning so I could bask in his commanding (and tuneful!) ambiance from thirty or however-many rows back. I remember thinking - yea, knowing - that his wife was the most beautiful woman in the world, the luckiest bride in the world (I guess I'd gotten over my Princess Di thing by then).
Apparently, that was 1979 (so I guess Princess Di was just Lady Di then).  Sheesh.
I sure hope you can read this over the creaking of my ancient knuckles as they feebly type this crotchety missive...


  1. Thanks for the giggle. You're spot on about his wife - gorgeous woman - and his presence was very commanding.

    Don't worry, though. You're not that old. At least, you don't act your age :-P


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