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Yiddishe Cup\u2019s<\/strong><\/span> most religiously scrupulous gig was for the get<\/em> (divorce decree) rabbi. We played a Purim tish <\/em>(gathering) at his house in Cleveland Heights. All black hats and beards. The rabbi\u2019s drosh<\/em> (speech on a liturgical text) was in Yiddish. I thought I was in a Chagall painting.<\/p>\n My Conservative rabbi, when he heard about the get<\/em> gig, couldn\u2019t believe I\u2019d been in the get <\/em>rabbi\u2019s house. My rabbi had never been in there.<\/p>\n I knew all the rabbis in town. In Cleveland, Jewish denominations typically don\u2019t party and pray together, so the rabbis don\u2019t all know each other. If you want a mishmash of Jews all in the same room, go to a smaller town, like Akron, Ohio. In Akron, the Orthodox and non-Orthodox will mix it up. It\u2019s a matter of survival. Small numbers.<\/p>\n Musicians, take<\/strong><\/span> note of this: Don\u2019t play \u201cHava Nagila\u201d for the Orthodox. They usually don\u2019t want it. Too goyish<\/em>. Nevertheless, at one Orthodox wedding, the bride’s aunt repeatedly requested the band play \u201cHava Nagila.\u201d I said no. Then some New York yeshiva buchers<\/em> asked me for the song. I said, \u201cAre you trying to embarrass the band?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, we heard you\u2019re a klezmer band and we\u2019d like to hear it.\u201d Yeah, right.<\/p>\n Still, the mom didn\u2019t want it. Again, the mom\u2019s sister said play it. And again, the buchers<\/em> said play it. The mom finally relented. We played it. The world ended.<\/p>\n —<\/p>\n Coda: The buchers <\/em>danced with ruach<\/em> to the tune. \u201cHava Nagila\u201d is originally a Hasidic nign<\/em> from Hungary. Look these Jewish words up. Don’t have time to translate. Gotta find my funny hat for Purim. —<\/p>\n
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