Once again I find myself with many drafts of posts. Someone once told me that I was the most metaphorical person he/she ever met.


I want to write about The Making of a Gadol, started to. Book's lent out - but I live in a glass house filled with long ago borrowed books, just as I have books of mine around the world on other people's shelves. For now this quote should suffice:


"Making of a Gadol separated the mature minded from those who never outgrew their childish thinking - the men from the boys: those who prefer sucking on fairy tales and myths from those who can swallow and digest reality and truth; those who must drug themselves then totter alone and stumble in the complex world of ideas, from those who are sober and unafraid and hold the outstretched hand of the gadol in order to take secure and firm steps in the spiritual domain. The gedolim whose image is raised by men convey their holy and clear message from between the lines of a good and kosher book, while the gedolim whom the boys conjure up never speak to their viewers, but remain in splendid silence while they float off in a mist of fantasy, and disappear." - Making of a Gadol, Improved Edition, pg. XLVI


Two years ago I had an essay on Parshat Balak published in the Jewish Week. I have the hardcopy of the paper, but can't find it anywhere in the computer. I even thought of transcribing it. If anyone can find it for me I'd appreciate that. It starts like this:

מַה-טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ, יַעֲקֹב; מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ, יִשְׂרָאֵל

How good are your tents, Jacob,

your dwellings, Israel

(Bamidbar 24:5)

I started a magnum opus style piece on the tree that is referred to in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I'm convinced that Betty Smith meant it as a positive metaphor, even though some call it "the tree from hell." This what Smith wrote in the introduction:


"There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly...survives without sun, water, and seemingly earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it."


I lived and learned in Jerusalem from the summer of 1983 through the summer of 1988. During that time once for my brother's wedding, once for my strabismus operation (should I have another one?), and maybe once more. All the visits were toward the end of the Israel stint. Today an episode from one of those times came to mind. I met up with a friend of mine and we saw Stand By Me. Then my friend drove me to visit a rabbi of mine from high school who had miraculously recovered from cancer. He meant a lot to me and I was excited to see him. My friend from college was lapsed from observance at the time and opted to wait in the car while I spoke with my rabbi. After a bit my friend changed his mind and buzzed to come upstairs. My rabbi wanted my friend to be comfortable so he said something like, "It sure is hot out isn't it?" - a shift from the Torah we'd been discussing (bekiyus vs. be'iyun - he cited Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer as saying that you should do both and added that great rabbis excelled in both). Then he made compromise conversation, Torah about the weather - and told the following anecdote:

The Gemorah speaks of how close Antoninus and Rebbe were. One time Antoninus asked Rebbe for a blessing and Rebbe said, "I bless you that you should not be affected by the cold." Antoninus said that that was a weak blessing, because not being affected by the cold could easily be accomplished by wearing extra layers. Then Rebbe gave Antoninus a blessing that he should not be affected by the heat. Antoninus deemed this to be a great blessing because even if you remove all layers, you'll still suffer the heat. My rebbe pointed out that this was the case until the amazing invention of air conditioning and how great an iinvention it was!

G-d I know You know

all I write and say and do

is a cry to you