Category — Music

 
Two Jews, three opinions . . .

Warfare. The cops were called. [This was at the 2022 Yiddish concert at Cain Park, Cleveland Heights.] The concert chairman, who had a temper, asked the Cleveland Heights police to eject a Workmen’s Circle (WC) person for passing out WC literature at a card table at the show. (WC is a 125-year-old national Jewish fraternal organization.)

The chairman was the head of a group called the Yiddish Concert in the Park (YCIP) committee, an offshoot of the Workmen’s Circle. Farshtey?

The YCIP chairman was annoyed with the WC. It appeared he wanted total control of the show. It was a pishing contest. The police escorted the Workmen’s Circle pamphleteer out.

Can’t we Jews get along?

(Don’t answer that.)

Back in pre-history (the 1980-1990s), the annual free Yiddish concert at Cain Park attracted up to 2,000 people. Acts included The Klezmatics, Pharaoh’s Daughter, the Klezmer Conservatory Band, Bruce Adler and Chava Alberstein.

Then the Yiddish-speaking audience dwindled. The target audience pretty much died out. Concert attendance was down to about 400 attendees typically, in the 2010s.

Today: The YCIP and the WC (Cleveland branch) don’t exist. The WC’s website shows nothing much has happened in the past several years. The YCIP hasn’t met in four years. Gornisht.

I’m a former member of both the YCIP and the WC. People sometimes ask me, “What’s going on with the Yiddish concert at Cain Park? I miss it.” I explain there’s a rump group of five people who use the name Workmen’s Circle, and these folks have self-funded the shows for the past two years. Funded it small-time. A couple grand, most. Not enough dinero to bring in high-quality talent.

Cain Park, which is a city-owned venue, has no time, or the resources, to deal with these tribal matters. Cain Park doesn’t know Yiddish from spinach. And lately Cain Park has run through two general managers and an interim manager.

Another entity seemingly in the dark about all this, too, is the Cleveland Jewish News, which vigorously promotes the WC’s low-rent shows, maybe because the CJN makes money by selling ads for printed concert programs.

In 2023 I met with the then-chief financial officer of the Jewish Federation of Cleveland, and he told me he was fed up with the squabbling committees and “we’re not giving another dime [to underwrite the concert] until we see accounting reconciliations and a financial statement.”

I remember when Yiddishist Henry Green donated approximately $50,000 to the concert fund. He had escaped Europe and started a business in Bolivia, made some dough, and then moved to Cleveland. He died in 1998.

The concert endowment now has more than $150,000, managed by the Jewish Federation of Cleveland. For the record, Henry’s son, Andy, wrote to the Federation in 2023 and said he wanted the dough to go to the YCIP, not the WC. Andy died last year.

Shortly after the cops visited Cain Park, I contacted a rump WC person. He said he wanted to revive the concert in a big way. He had a very talented, very well-known performer in mind. Top secret.

“Come on, tell me who you’re thinking of. I’m a musician,” I said. “Come on.”

“Bette Midler.”

What? “How do you get to Bette Midler?” I said.

“Somebody knows her. She was in Workmen’s Circle.”

Does Midler she still perform? Does she still breathe? Does she know any Yiddish? Would she work for less than rock-star gelt?

[Midler grew up in Hawaii, which never had a Workmen’s Circle branch.]

I called the Cain Park general manager and said, “We’re not able to attract a national act because the Yiddish Concert in the Park committee [YCIP] doesn’t exist and neither does the Workmen’s Circle.”

This was news to the park manager. He said people occasionally asked him, too, what’s up with the Yiddish concert. (This manager got fired from Cain Park after a year.)

Last year: The rump WC group produced a show which attracted approximately 75 people. The craziest part of the concert, for me, was when the WC raffled off a Glock gun at intermission.

This year: The Cleveland Jewish News just published a recap of the Aug. 23, 2026, show. Headline:

‘Phenomenal’ annual Yiddish Concert draws over 400 fans. 

 
Sharon, a jazz saxophone teacher, pitched me a year-long package of music lessons. I don’t have “big ears” — as the jazzers says — and I want to improve my ear-training and chord-recognition game.

I was on a Zoom call with Sharon, who was based in Los Angeles. She wanted to talk about my motivation, and I wanted to talk about cost of the lessons. She didn’t want to talk about money. She had a PAC system and an HSP system — these initials stood for something. I don’t know what. She asked what my level of motivation was, on a scale of 1-to-10. She wasn’t happy when I answered “5.”

I said, “What if I’m in a group lesson on Zoom with beginner musicians who don’t know what a C7 chord is? Maybe I should I do a solo course.” I had found Sharon on the internet. (She said to tell you the truth a lot, which annoyed me.)

An hour later she told me the solo course was $1,200, for a year. Sharon continued, “But my assistant, Juliet, in the Philippines, will send you a link to knock it down to $500. And I’m going to be a hardass about that. There will be no access to coaching in the solo course, and the price is good for a week, cool? This isn’t about money, it’s about increasing your motivation.”

Sharon’s bio said she had majored in psychology and music.

Her quick drop from $1,200 to $500 jolted me.

This was a bit of a red flag, no?

I called my son the musico and discussed the matter. He said the whole thing sounded “opaque.” I passed.

[“Sharon” is a pseudonym.]

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Yiddishe Cup plays a free Mother’s Day concert this Sun., May 10, 2-3 pm. Beachwood library branch/ Cuyahoga County Public Library, 25501 Shaker Blvd [corner of Shaker and Richmond]. Beachwood, Ohio. We’ll play “My Yiddishe Momma,” “Natural Woman,” and klezmer!

 
I was at the Fuji Rock music festival, where I hung out with British lads — guys in their twenties. I was at Fuji Rock, in Japan, to see Vulfpeck. The lads were from Leeds.  Japan was so hot, the lads went bare-chested and drank a lot, and were amusingly, obnoxiously inebriated. Jimmy, on meeting a genuine VulfDad — me —  bear-hugged me and said, “I’m the stickiest man you ever met!” It was 95 degrees. The sweat.

Booze, Brits and heat.

No sane tourist visits Japan in July, when Fuji Rock is. The lads repeatedly mentioned how “warm” it was. (Leeds people say “warm” to mean “hot.”) Jimmy said, “There’s moisture everywhere.” He schlepped around a four-pack beer caddy. The humidity was Houston-level.

The Japanese — they can handle it. They don’t drink much in public (except at salaryman bars) and don’t complain about the weather. Air conditioning is generally “low” in Japan, on purpose, to save energy. Another thing, off subject: Japanese restaurants play quality background music — sometimes even Coltrane — on low volume. And everybody talks quietly in public places.

The Brits: total aliens.

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The above is autobiographical fiction. Yes,  I was at Fuji Rock but I didn’t hang out with Brits. However, I later watched a video about Brits at Fuji Rock. The vid is cued up below. Check out a few minutes.

 
I talk a lot at nursing-home gigs. I like to get the audience talking, too. I ask the audience about their favorite delis and where they went to high school. One guy always heckles me – “Again with the high schools?” Yes, again with the high schools. And this guy is not even a resident; he visits a friend who lives in the nursing home.

I often ask listeners their names. At my last gig, there was a woman, Ona, who said she was named for the actress Ona Munson. Never heard of Ona Munson. I didn’t ask Ona where she went to high school because she’s from New Jersey and nobody in Cleveland knows about New Jersey high schools.

An elderly husky black man had some musical requests. He was a visitor. He wanted “One O’Clock Jump.” I didn’t know it. Then he said, “Anything by Glenn Miller?” I played “I Got Rhythm.” Close enough. He rocked-and-rolled to every song – clapping and singing along. Alan Douglass (my piano accompanist) and I played all kinds of music: klezmer, American pop, Israeli. The man grooved to everything. He said his name was Roland Hanna.

“Roland Hanna! I guess Alan and I better go home now,” I said. Alan and I would leave and let Roland take over. Roland smiled. Roland Hanna, the renowned pianist. Roland told us to continue.

Roland Hanna

Alan asked Roland if he liked “sweet soul,” a favorite genre of Alan’s. Roland was cool with that. Alan did “Stone in Love With You” by the Stylistics. Roland knew every word. Then Roland requested Billy Joel. It’s affecting when black musicians request songs by white artists. Roland said, “You can do Billy Joel! You’ve got a harmonica player.” I did have a harp. We played “Piano Man,” featuring harp.

Alan did a country tune, “Behind Closed Doors” by Charlie Rich, and  we did the soul tune “My Girl,” and Alan did a funk tune, “Will It Go Round in Circles.” All for Roland Hanna.

Before the final tune of the set, I asked Roland if he wanted to play something with us. He passed. After the gig, we schmoozed. I asked if he still played. He said he had never played. He said he was Rollin Hannah, Cleveland Heights High class of ’69. He said, “It’s Rollin like in Sonny Rollins, and Hannah, spelled the same backwards and forward.”

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Pianist Roland Hanna was a Detroit musician who played in the Thad Jones –Mel Lewis Big Band in New York in the 1970s. “Roland Hanna” — the name — stuck with me all these years. Stuck a bit too hard.

 
Musicians probably get more ego satisfaction in one night than most people get in a year. When I don’t have a gig, I mope around the house like a guy in rehab. Where are my gigs? My cigs? My booze? Where’s my heroin? Do I want to see a movie? No, I don’t.

Music is a different than than writing and painting; music is the laying on o’ hands. Have you tried laying on o’ hands with writing or painting? You’re in a room by yourself. That’s called solitary confinement.

Street festivals, parties, simchas, nursing-home soirees, concerts — all feel-good situations. Humans like hubbub. Noise is life. Deaf people like music; they like the vibrations.

In writing and painting, it’s a shush scene. America needs about 100 decent novelists and 100 painters. There is no minor league for writers and painters (except academia). Musicians — they’re playing in every city.

I’m in the Ohio Musicians League. That’s a minor league operation, but still, satisfying.

 
Pop-rocker Eric Carmen graduated a year ahead of me at Brush High in Lyndhurst, Ohio. He was the leader of The Raspberries (post-high school). Here’s why I didn’t know Eric:

1. I was a tennis guy in high school, not a music guy.
2. Carmen lived in Lyndhurst — super-goy land. I lived in South Euclid. I knew a handful of kids from Lyndhurst. My friend Ron, who grew up in Lyndhurst, said it was no picnic being a Jew in Lyndhurst in the 1960s.

Carmen was Jewish. Carmen, the name –vaguely Italian.  Lyndhurst was vaguely Italian, too. This, just in: carmen is Latin for song. [Thanks to Ted Stratton for the Latin lore.] Eric Carmen attended a Jesuit college, John Carroll University. Strange.

There’s a Facebook page called “I Grew Up in South Euclid/Lyndhurst Club,” which saw a lot of action when Carmen died last month. Nobody on the FB page talked about where Eric Carmen went to temple. I bet he went nowhere. Maybe Eric was “unaffiliated,” as the Jewish-continuity surveyors say. Some press obits said Carmen was the son of Russian Jewish immigrants. The New York Times wrote: “[Carmen was] from a family of Jewish immigrants from Russia.” Yeah, so am I. So is nearly every Jew in Cleveland. Enough with the Jewish stuff. Or not . . .

Carmen’s grandfather was Hector Camingkovich, according to Findagrave.com. The Cleveland Jewish News, 20 years ago, mentioned that Carmen’s father worked at Gould Ocean Systems, and his name was Elmer Carmen. Eric’s mother was Ruth (nee Berns). Do the names Elmer and Ruth sound immigrant to you? They shouldn’t. A 2007 CJN obit said Elmer “enjoyed golf and travel, and was a graduate of Glenville High School and Western Reserve University.” Elmer wound up in a gentile cemetery.

Eric Carmen played sock hops at Brush High. I didn’t cotton to sock hops. (I liked bowling and miniature golf.) Alan Douglass, from Yiddishe Cup, saw Carmen a couple times. I’ll ask Alan about that.

Several commenters on the South Euclid/Lyndhurst FB site segued into naming other well-known Brush grads. For example, there was Steve Stone, a Major League pitcher who won the Cy Young Award while playing for the White Sox, or was it the Cubs? (I gotta look that up . . . Orioles.) Stone’s sister was in my homeroom. Does that count for anything? It better, because I’m sorry I (Brush’68) have no Eric Carmen reminiscences for you. (**please see addendum, under photo)

Brush High yearbook, 1966. Carmen’s junior year. (Photo courtesy of Ken Goldberg)

** Alan Douglass, of Yiddishe Cup, ran into Carmen many times at a convenience store in Mayfield Heights in the early 1980s. Alan worked there; Carmen shopped there. Alan said, “He was a ‘has been’ at that point — pre-Top Gun.” Alan had a 45 rpm record of “All By Myself,” which he brought to work for Carmen to sign, but for some reason, the “All By Myself” record and Carmen were never in the store at the same time. Alan said, “I liked everything by The Raspberries and all his solo stuff. He was power pop before there was power pop.”