Opinion

A few weeks ago, I was speaking to Shlomo Pomeranz, a devoted firefighter and friend (and fellow talmid of Rabbi Berel Wein).  We were discussing the challenge of always being on call.  Like all devoted emergency personnel, firefighters must be ready to drop what they are doing, no matter the time of day or night, to do their noble bidding.

There have been some strange and unusual events in the last few weeks.

The Francis Scott Key Bridge was opened in March 1977 to carry the Baltimore Beltway (I-695) across the Patapsco River. The bridge bears an estimated 11.5 million vehicles annually.

Sometime during the winter of 2018, I was perusing new titles in one of the local Monsey s’farim stores, and I noticed a new English sefer titled Mind over Man. It contained a collection of lectures by Rabbi Yechiel Perr, a prominent rosh yeshivah in Far Rockaway, based on sefer Madreigas HaAdam of the Alter of Novardok.

We live in crazy times. I don’t think anyone will argue with that. But I recently realized that I don’t ever remember a period in my life when people didn’t comment that we are living in crazy times.

I clearly recall sitting at a Shabbos table a few years ago when someone said exactly that.

On the afternoon of the seventh day of Pesach, I realized that in Eretz Yisrael Pesach was over and they were already eating chametz. Far from being envious, however, I actually felt bad for them. I was more than happy to have one more day of Yom Tov, to say the Yom Tov Kiddush, and enjoy two more meals with my family, and to recite the magnificent words of Hallel and the Yom Tov Sh’moneh Esrei in its beloved tune. The pizza could wait another day. I would much rather be enveloped in the ethereal world of Yom Tov than to rush back into my mundane routine.

Recently, one of our neighbors joined us for a Shabbos seudah. The neighbor appreciates fine wine, and he gave us a bottle as a gift. It’s always a bit uncomfortable for me when I’m gifted with a bottle of wine, as the extent of my appreciation of wine doesn’t go much beyond Cream Malaga, Bartenura, and Asti. I do not understand when people swoosh their wine in their glasses or any other “wine etiquette.”