THREE CHEERS FOR THE BLUE, WHITE AND...BLUE

Happy 56th birthday, Israel! You don't look a day over 55...

To celebrate, I joined thousands of my fellow NY Jews, hundreds of whom were my Upper West Side neighbors, for a giant Jew party at Crobar (which I suspect, was not the original intent of the club’s founder). In the rain, the two lines that stretched down the block in both directions seemed to move more slowly and lethally than molten lava. Everyone you thought you’d ever seen before was there. People you’ve known since you’re 4, long-lost high school compadres, camp people, shul people, and the hundreds of pictures you’ve seen on JDate came to life as more than 40 Jewish organizations partnered for this event.

Mayor Mike Bloomberg phlegmed his way through a few awkward Hebrew phrases (which made someone quip that it was nothing a few weeks of Hebrew school couldn’t cure—to amuse myself, I’m imagining the teachers as strung-out, nicotine-addicted New Yorkers who are p.o.’d about the public smoking ban…) and spoke about how impressed he always is with Israel. After a few words by the event’s co-chairs, Yizkor was read, then a memorial candle lighting, then El Maleh Rachamim, then a few songs and poems, including the meaningful “Each Man Has a Name” by Zelda and “The Silver Platter” by Natan Alterman, (both of which were much more moving in Hebrew than in the severely flawed English translation that was provided). Israel’s Permanent Ambassador to the UN, Dan Gillerman, spoke about the “real Israel,” the one not of terror and violence, but of medical advances, strides in technology and all the other things that make Israel a great, modern country, despite its relative youth.

Another Hebrew song, this time one I’d never heard before, but of the same name and clearly based on Antoine de St. Exupery’s “The Little Prince.” I personally found Rabbi Yitz Greenberg’s reading of a memorial poem—spoken in the voice of a father, mourning the loss of his son—very moving, and, knowing that he lost his son JJ in an accident in Israel over a year ago, almost unbearably sad. The poem’s speaker bemoans the fact that he did not help see his son off to the army, that if he had only known, he would have helped him with his bags, looked into his eyes one last time, etc. So sad.

Another essential element was the memorial siren. As in Israel, the minute of silence that is observed during the sounding of the siren serves as a separation between the day of national mourning and the day of national celebration. After Hatikvah and Shir Hashalom, the party started, with DJs spinning till dawn (not that I was there at dawn, but that was what the program said…) If memory serves, one of the first songs played at this dance party in honor of Israeli Independence Day was “Dancing Queen,” by ABBA. Which is only appropriate, since the group is named for someone’s father (that's the joke, "father" is "Abba" in Hebrew).

With the exception of a few English songs (Borderline, Stayin’ Alive, Kylie Minogueness, Michael Jackson, etc…), most of the mix was Israeli—at the beginning of every song, all you had to do was look around and see who was singing every word, and you knew they were either Israeli or had spent years in Israel listening to dance music…

Apparently, some “light snacks” were served, but by the time we found them, it was “all spread, no bread”—all the pita was gone, but the hummus remained. Oh well: a liquid dinner it was, and we were off to the bar for beverages. Libations came with a hefty price tag, but how many times a year does one get to celebrate Israel’s special day?

Or, as Mastercard would put it:

Cover charge at Crobar, $25 in advance/$30 at the door
Coat, bag and umbrella check, $6
Stoli Vanila on the rocks plus tip, $12
Contribution to shared cabfare home, $4
Celebrating Israel’s 56th birthday? Priceless.

Were you there? Tell me about your experience!

THREE CHEERS FOR THE BLUE, WHITE AND...BLUE

Happy 56th birthday, Israel! You don't look a day over 55...

To celebrate, I joined thousands of my fellow NY Jews, hundreds of whom were my Upper West Side neighbors, for a giant Jew party at Crobar (which I suspect, was not the original intent of the club’s founder). In the rain, the two lines that stretched down the block in both directions seemed to move more slowly and lethally than molten lava. Everyone you thought you’d ever seen before was there. People you’ve known since you’re 4, long-lost high school compadres, camp people, shul people, and the hundreds of pictures you’ve seen on JDate came to life as more than 40 Jewish organizations partnered for this event.

Mayor Mike Bloomberg phlegmed his way through a few awkward Hebrew phrases (which made someone quip that it was nothing a few weeks of Hebrew school couldn’t cure—to amuse myself, I’m imagining the teachers as strung-out, nicotine-addicted New Yorkers who are p.o.’d about the public smoking ban…) and spoke about how impressed he always is with Israel. After a few words by the event’s co-chairs, Yizkor was read, then a memorial candle lighting, then El Maleh Rachamim, then a few songs and poems, including the meaningful “Each Man Has a Name” by Zelda and “The Silver Platter” by Natan Alterman, (both of which were much more moving in Hebrew than in the severely flawed English translation that was provided). Israel’s Permanent Ambassador to the UN, Dan Gillerman, spoke about the “real Israel,” the one not of terror and violence, but of medical advances, strides in technology and all the other things that make Israel a great, modern country, despite its relative youth.

Another Hebrew song, this time one I’d never heard before, but of the same name and clearly based on Antoine de St. Exupery’s “The Little Prince.” I personally found Rabbi Yitz Greenberg’s reading of a memorial poem—spoken in the voice of a father, mourning the loss of his son—very moving, and, knowing that he lost his son JJ in an accident in Israel over a year ago, almost unbearably sad. The poem’s speaker bemoans the fact that he did not help see his son off to the army, that if he had only known, he would have helped him with his bags, looked into his eyes one last time, etc. So sad.

Another essential element was the memorial siren. As in Israel, the minute of silence that is observed during the sounding of the siren serves as a separation between the day of national mourning and the day of national celebration. After Hatikvah and Shir Hashalom, the party started, with DJs spinning till dawn (not that I was there at dawn, but that was what the program said…) If memory serves, one of the first songs played at this dance party in honor of Israeli Independence Day was “Dancing Queen,” by ABBA. Which is only appropriate, since the group is named for someone’s father (that's the joke, "father" is "Abba" in Hebrew).

With the exception of a few English songs (Borderline, Stayin’ Alive, Kylie Minogueness, Michael Jackson, etc…), most of the mix was Israeli—at the beginning of every song, all you had to do was look around and see who was singing every word, and you knew they were either Israeli or had spent years in Israel listening to dance music…

Apparently, some “light snacks” were served, but by the time we found them, it was “all spread, no bread”—all the pita was gone, but the hummus remained. Oh well: a liquid dinner it was, and we were off to the bar for beverages. Libations came with a hefty price tag, but how many times a year does one get to celebrate Israel’s special day?

Or, as Mastercard would put it:

Cover charge at Crobar, $25 in advance/$30 at the door
Coat, bag and umbrella check, $6
Stoli Vanila on the rocks plus tip, $12
Contribution to shared cabfare home, $4
Celebrating Israel’s 56th birthday? Priceless.

Were you there? Tell me about your experience!