Neil Fein's Blog

After Martha picked me up at work in Union, we parked the car here and took the train into NYC to see Judy and Elan, intending to get there well before shabbes started. This sounds relatively simple, but in reality our train was delayed by a "suspicious van".

Yes, that's right. A van parked by the side of the tracks that doesn't belong there will now cause a NJ Transit train to stop entirely. Keep in mind, the van wasn't doing anything but being there and therefore being suspicious. The word amongst the passengers^[1] was that we had to wait for the police and, lo! the police they did arrive and the van was ticketed.

Sorry if I'm being snappy, but it was pretty irritating. NJ Transit also has posters that tell passengers to report suspicious activity; don't eat on the train, because leaving crumbs could result in a hazmat team being called in; don't leave your luggage unattended; et cetera. Mass transit is becoming more Orwellian. ^[2]

All was much fun. We had Friday shabbes dinner with them, went to Saturday morning shul, met a dozen or so of their friends. All was well; they have good friends and we were comfortable.

Our friends, who are theatre junkies, then changed out of their bat-clothes and we hopped onto the downtown bat-subway to the alien planet of Greenwich Village to enjoy a piano bar. Yes, we heard showtunes and Sinatra and Cole Porter tunes. And yes, the crowd was predominantly gay -- and glorying in their gayness. I had a great time, but the continent of Christopher Street is a far, far way from Washington Heights. ^[4]

All in all, lots of schmoozing, lots of singing. A very good weekend. <sup>[5]

[1]</sup> We were in the very front car, right next to the van, so I think this is reliable. But then again, you're reading this on the internet.

^[2] There are similar signs on the NYC subway, but a bit toned down.

^[3] The Rabbi gave an excellent sermon (sorry, a talk not a sermon) expanded right out of Hirsch's commentary on the Torah. I liked the service and the people, but this rebbe's orating style reminded me of some Baptist preachers I've met. To be even-handed, this shul looks to be very progressive for an orthodox shul. Although I did get some wonderful looks when, asked where I went to shul and my rabbi, what's his name? -- answered, "Rutgers Hullel, "Rabbi Esther Reed."

^[4] From the rumor mill: Washington Heights has been partially renamed by the local realty board, and the area we stayed in is now known as "Hudson Heights". Keep in mind, this is the same real estate board that, in apartment-speak, refers to their smallest kitchen as a "chef's kitchen" (i.e., there's room for the chef and not much else).

^[5] Washington heights is on the uptown (i.e., northern) tip of Manhattan island. Surrounded by water, if you think it was cold that weekend in New Jersey or Brooklyn or wherever, Hudson River wind chill really shows you the meaning of the word "Brrr".