Lesley Gore, who grew up in a Jewish family in Tenafly, New Jersey, won the right to be classed with the above grandes dames in 1964 with the release of “You Don’t Own Me,” which became a feminist anthem.
The headline over a story on page 2 of the current issue of “Jewish Voice from Germany,” and an accompanying photograph in the monthly publication caught my attention.
The headline: “The Day Berlin Wore the Kippah.” The photograph: a front-page of Berlin’s Berliner Zeitung (B.Z.) newspaper that shows five men, mostly of them probably not Jewish, with prominent kipot atop their heads.
Don Larsen did, 56 years ago, earlier this month, in sports.
A unremarkable pitcher for the N.Y. Yankees, Larsen pitched a perfect game – no hits, no walks, no men on base at all – in the 5th game of the 1956 World Series, beating the Brooklyn Dodgers’ Sal Maglie, an outstanding player who pitched an outstanding two-run five--hitter that day.
More than anyone else, gay Jews are have cause to reflect on Weimar Germany’s mixed legacy.
On the one hand, both gay and Jewish culture flourished in that place and time, and had a dramatic impact on the rest of the world. On the other, that period was also full of menace, of threats that the Nazis would soon carry out.
Yet tomorrow, proud and vital members of this group will board a plane for Berlin to grapple with that history – and go clubbing.
Add one more name to the list of Jewish baseball players who have had an at-bat in the major leagues.
Adam Greenberg, arguably the most prominent Jew in sports in recent weeks, walked to home plate last week, bat in hand, for the first time in 2012. It was the first – and probably final – official at-bat of his pro career, on the penultimate day of the regular season.
This Yom Tov, and the past two, are exactly the kind of timing local kosher liquor stores used to dread.
When holidays fell on Sunday night, kosher consumers who wait until the last minute were in for an unpleasant surprise: Liquor stores were required to close on Sundays under New York's antiquated Blue Laws. If you were wise to this fact you'd shop in advance on Friday since Saturday is out for the Shomer Shabbos crowd. Otherwise, you were left scrambling for kiddush wine or Yom Tov spirits at certain permitted markets after 12 pm, where selections were limited.
My annual custom on the last day of the High Holy Days is to daven at the Yom Kippur minyan of Chabad of Rego Park. Not a chasid, not a member of the Chabad-Lubavitch chasidic movement, I feel great spiritual authenticity in the atmosphere of intimacy, surrounded by a few hundred other worshippers, which Rabbi Eli Blokh creates.
His Yom Kippur services take place in the basement social hall of the Queens Jewish Center, a large Modern Orthodox synagogue around the corner from my apartment.
The text of my reading material last week on the eve of Rosh HaShanah was about people making errors. The subtext: some errors are never forgotten, never wiped clean, stain a person’s reputation forever.