Worship with a Schmear

We worshipped yesterday morning.  What passes for worship in our family.  We drove around with klezmer music blaring, eventually ending up at our favorite bagel bakery where we purchased a baker’s dozen, still hot from the oven.  Then we sat in the car and just pulled the hot bagels apart and dipped them in fresh made cream cheese and ate while the klezmer pelted us with it's goofy tones.  That's temple, more or less.  Sans beards.  And yarmulkes.  And praying.  And other Jews.

For those that don’t know, klezmer is music from the European Jewish tradition.  It’s full of horns and violins and accordians and mournful clarinets and peppy glishpiezel-phones.  It has chords that represent the sounds of laughing and crying.  It’s wacky, ironic music.  Sort of like what you might hear in a Dr. Seuss book, if the Cat in The Hat had gone through great suffering yet still come out with an intact sense of humor.  

We only listen to it once a week on a local college radio show.  No one needs more than a couple hours of mournful clarinet solos per week.  Tops.  Which is how many people feel about the Jews.  And that is the story of anti-semitism.  The end.  

The music starts at about the 1:00 mark.  I think the non-jews who aren't familiar with the term klezmer this will recognize it as something they've heard before.

Homemaker Man

P.S.  I know we're supposed to worship on Saturday.  So sue me.

P.P.S.  There were better videos, but the embed option was disabled.  Psshh.  Jews.

P.P.S.  A special thank you to Suburban Correspondent.  She writes one of my favoritest blogs,  The More, The Messier.  Apparently. Peter Sagal of Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me fame reads her blog.
Also, apparently he borrows some of his material from there as well.  Psshh.  Jews.

Thanks for the mention, S.C.

HM