Real Music & Real Estate . . .

Yiddishe Cup’s bandleader, Bert Stratton, is Klezmer Guy.

He knows about the band biz and – check this out – the real estate biz, too.

You may not care about the real estate biz. Hey, you may not care about the band biz. (See you.)

This is a blog with a gamy twist. It features tenants with snakes and skunks, and musicians with smoked fish in their pockets.

Stratton has written op-eds for the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Washington Post.



My father had about 15 pairs of shoes when he died. I didn’t take any of his shoes even though we wore the same size. He had a foot fungus, and my mother told me to pass. My dad had wingtips, golf shoes and tennis shoes. I never saw him in sandals, work boots or hiking boots.


My dad wore Purcells. He was pretty good at sports. For one thing, he was a fast runner. He took me to the Arena for the annual Knights of Columbus track meet, and we often played tennis. My dad would hit balls with me after work. He would say, “Racquet back. Hit it now. Racquet back, hit it now.” He wore Bermuda shorts and Purcells and no shirt. That was appropriate attire in the 1960s, at least on the public courts in South Euclid, Ohio. I didn’t appreciate the tennis instruction from my dad. I moped. I should have hustled. He was usually the only dad out there. I should have hustled.

A version of this post appeared here 5/1/13.

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1 David Rowe { 09.06.17 at 11:51 am }

Too bad there’s no Shoe Hall of Fame in Cleveland.

2 Mark Schilling { 09.06.17 at 7:29 pm }

The only sports instruction my father ever gave me was at the lake in Northern Michigan where we’d go every summer. He’d deposit me on an anchored raft where the water was over my head and tell me to jump in, promising to catch me. Instead he’d move back and I had to dog paddle to his arms or drown. A traumatic but effective method. I was about seven.

3 Michael Madorsky { 09.06.17 at 9:19 pm }

I guess you’re hustling now, aren’t you?
Speaking of foot fungus, my grandfather and all his 7 Madorsky brothers always wore white socks, not matter the attire, as their podiatrist brother said that white socks will prevent athlete’s foot. Of course they were almost Polacks too. (Belarus but very close to Poland)

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