Last year I jokingly titled a blog post “Christmas in Anatevka,” since my daughters and I had spent the big day watching “Fiddler on the Roof.”
This year, I felt like we really did spend Christmas morning in Anatevka. That’s because we were on the main drag (aptly called Main Street) of Queens’ very Jewish Kew Gardens Hills neighborhood.
I know I blogged about “Fiddler on the Roof” last week, but since the girls and I have watched it (and listened to the soundtrack) a few more times since then, I feel compelled to revisit the subject.
First of all, I want to offer an apology to the musical’s creators, for all those years that I dismissed “Fiddler” as kitschy nostalgia on par with those cute little chasid figurines/tchotchkes and ubiquitous Chagall reproductions on display in more than one American Jewish grandma’s home.
Last week it was the soundtrack from “Tangled,” Disney’s take on the Rapunzel fairy tale.
This week I cannot get “Matchmaker, Matchmaker” and “If I Were a Rich Man” out of my head. In no small part because my kids have insisted on playing “Fiddler on the Roof” and its music on a near endless loop since Saturday.