{"id":12208,"date":"2013-03-13T08:00:49","date_gmt":"2013-03-13T12:00:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.yiddishecup.com\/blog\/?p=12208"},"modified":"2013-03-13T08:30:32","modified_gmt":"2013-03-13T12:30:32","slug":"humour-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.yiddishecup.com\/blog\/2013\/03\/13\/humour-me\/","title":{"rendered":"HUMOUR ME"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

My friend<\/strong><\/span> Rob, a social worker, was fixated on Canada. He watched \u201cHockey Night in Canada\u201d on TV and studied the Canadian railroad timetables. He filled out immigration papers to Canada, waited several months for clearance, and moved to a small town in Ontario.<\/p>\n

The next day he came back to Cleveland.\u00a0 He was a mama\u2019s boy, I figured.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t like the social work job, he said, but he liked Canada.<\/p>\n

Rob definitely didn\u2019t like Cleveland — the blasting car horns, the boom boxes, the leaf blowers, and his parents pestering him. One day Rob\u2019s father said, \u201cYou\u2019re going to move too far away.\u201d The next day his dad said, \u201cYou need to go out into the world and prove yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

I subscribed<\/strong><\/span> to “Hockey Night in Canada” for Rob, so he would babysit my\u00a0 then-toddler son for free on Saturday nights.<\/p>\n

Rob moved to Canada again. This time to Nova Scotia.\u00a0 Change your place, change your luck, as the Hebrews sages say.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It worked.\u00a0 I haven\u2019t seen Rob in 18 years.<\/p>\n

I miss<\/strong><\/span> him, even though he verbally abused me.\u00a0 He was misanthropic.\u00a0 He was jaded.\u00a0 No, I<\/em> was jaded.\u00a0 We held jadedness contests.\u00a0 Rob said I was restaurateur on a perpetual hunt for dishes my bubbe<\/em> never made.<\/p>\n

He said, “You crave urban experience so badly you would eat flankn<\/em> cooked directly off the seat of a cross-town bus.”<\/p>\n

True enough.\u00a0 So would he.<\/p>\n

Rob and I listened to comedy records, played music together, and made fun of Jews.\u00a0 Rob knew more Yiddish than I did back then. His favorite curse was Gey mit dayn kup in drerd<\/em>. (Go to hell.\u00a0 Lit., go with your head in the ground.)<\/p>\n

We attended High Holidays at Case Western University Hillel. I had to drive; Rob was anti-car, anti-noise.\u00a0 He was so sensitive\u00a0 — probably the most sensitive person I’ve met, and that includes Harvey Pekar, who was not exactly loosey goosey on the avenue.<\/p>\n

I schlepped<\/strong><\/span> Rob to a hillbilly bar on the near West Side, so he could jam with the house band. He played guitar and sang a couple tunes.\u00a0 Rob was\u00a0devoted to country music — authentic<\/em> country. \u00a0 Rob\u2019s favorite player was Hank Williams.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Lake Erie gets you there: Canada. 57 miles. (Cleveland shore, Feb. 2013)<\/p><\/div>\n

Rob made his sole East Side musical appearance at Heinen\u2019s supermarket for a cancer-awareness fundraiser.\u00a0 He played \u201cGood Old Mountain Dew\u201d in the pop section and \u201cHava Nagila\u201d by the oranges.\u00a0 He had a sense of place.<\/p>\n

And he moved to Canada.<\/p>\n

I wonder<\/strong><\/span> what he\u2019s up to.\u00a0 He has family in Cleveland.\u00a0 He visits here, I imagine.<\/p>\n

Rob doesn\u2019t call.\u00a0 He doesn\u2019t write.\u00a0 He doesn\u2019t humour me.<\/p>\n

—
\n“Rob” is a pseudonym.<\/em><\/p>\n

—<\/span>
\nAt CoolCleveland.com today, “The Kid from Cleveland.”<\/a>\u00a0 About a “kid” I ran into in Atlanta.
\n<\/span>—<\/span>
\nExtreme Canada is England. Here’s a video about England. (A Klezmer Guy rerun.)
\n<\/span><\/p>\n