A Frum Punk

I’m bitten all over. Six on the back of my neck, two on my cheek, three on my elbows, two on my hand and two on my stomach. Met up with Jacob Da Jew tuesday, met Da Wife, Da Baby and Da Shy Toddler. We had a barbecue and later on I met Lakewood Falling Down, who I’d never heard of before but have since looked over his stuff, together we also met Jacobs pet mosquitoes. Also met Moshe picking his kid up from playgroup for about two seconds. I was talking with Jacob about whether bloggers are the same in real life as they are on their blog. Child Ish was exactly as I’d expected. Other bloggers weren’t quite the picture I’d had. But the ones I haven’t met but I read often still have me wondering. Is Frum Skeptic always complaining? Is Frum Satire always hyper and looking for the funny side of things? You know what I mean.

I’m enjoying a lot of stuff about New York, the conveniences of food and the ease of getting around. I like the fact that you pay the same flat fee to take the subway no matter how far you go, it’s also very nice that you can transfer to a bus for free within the time limit. I’m pleasantly surprised by how nice people are here, my stereotypes are completely shattered. My kippa blew off in Times Square and a random stranger grabbed it for me, I was pulling a suitcase up the subway stairs and the guy behind me grabbed the bottom and helped me carry it to the top.

I was dragged to a wedding last night by my friend (he got permission from the chosson who he went to yeshiva with), I have never seen so much free food before. Everything was amazing. I was thinking of those classic Frum Satire posts where he talks about the wedding shmorgs, my biggest problem was knowing how quickly I get full, and trying to ration it out so I get a taste of it all. After a minute I gave up and simply decided to enjoy the moment. I ate until I was sick, then I ate some more. (Bulimia: twice the taste, no calories.) Well I didn’t actually throw up, but I was very cognisant of the fact that I was already full as I took some more schnitzel and pasta. The wedding was rocking as well, entertainment was provided by the Neginah Orchestra, that guitarist was awesome and the drummer was kicking. They did the usual stuff as well as some Piamenta and some stuff I wasn’t familiar with, but whatever they played was great. I was talking with someone about the fact that half the Jewish CD’s out there seem to have the music provided by Neginah. Is it always the same musicians, or is Neginah sort of a rotating musical group? Were these guys the same ones playing on Jewish albums, and if so why isn’t the music better, because these guys kicked tuchus and took names. I always feel slightly sad when I look at a Jewish wedding band, because I know the guitarist, bassist and drummer grew up with dreams of being rock stars and they ended up playing weddings for the rest of their lives. They seemed to be having a great time though.

I’m in Touro right now visiting my friend. Tomorrow we fly out to Chicago. I’ve done a lot of the stuff you guys recommended about New York, whats to do in Chicago and more importantly, wheres the best real Chicago pizza?

Edit: In Manhattan I found an actual copy of The Onion! Kickin’ Rad! as I believe the kids these days say.

I’m typing this one from the Brooklyn Library. They’re charging me $2 per card and each card gives you two half hour sessions. I have 8 minutes left, so I may have to cut this short to get it out there. I asked people for a internet cafe and everyone just told me to come here. I’m not going to risk Touro again, not until I’ve given him a couple days to forget me, then I’ll try and bluff my way in again. Maybe I should get a Groucho Marx disguise kit, the nose, moustache and glasses.

So what I wrote yesterday was just my impressions of a morning in Brooklyn when all I’d seen was a few blocks around Ave J. I was definitely a bit disoriented, and I think I came across as a little pessimistic about the place. Or maybe I’ve just been reading too much AA Gill. He’s a travel writer for GQ and The Sunday Times in London, and he basically goes to places and bashes them. But he’s damn entertaining about it.

So yesterday after publishing my first morning impressions I met up with Mr Child Ish Behavior. He’s pretty much given our day a good write-up, and he was excellent company to boot. We did Manhattan on foot and bikes, took the ferry there and back and I finally got to see the Statue of Liberty. Its a bit smaller in person. Ate lunch at a kosher Subway, I still haven’t managed to finish a single meal in NY. Last night for dinner I had the other half of my breakfast bagel and fries and the chicken melt I had for lunch. Today I had pizza at Pizza Time. I’ve started to be more realistic so I ordered one slice and small fries. Most of the slice and half the fries later I was full. I don’t understand how people can finish meals of large fries and two slices with a large coke. I’m not a small guy, I’m 5’9 and 175 pounds. I don’t know if its that the food here is more filling or what, I just cant eat a normal New York portion of anything. Two minutes left, this ends here. More impressions to come next time I get a computer. Maybe I’ll try sneaking into a different college.

Everything feels so foreign. It’s surprising, because it feels more foreign than it technically should. I’ve only been out of America for two years, but Brooklyn may as well be a different planet. This place is crazy freaky-deaky town. Everyone seems to be Jewish and no one seems to know each other. Half the signs are in Hebrew. The Walgreens has signs in Hebrew. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. Not just the concept, but the apparent necessity. Is it merely a show of support to the Jewish community, or is it actually a necessity in that there are people living here, in New-York-frickin-City who can’t read English? Walgreens sells Paskez candy. The 7-11 last night had a hechsher and everyone who came in was Jewish. I haven’t had a slurpee in two years so I grab my old usual, the blue cup, second to smallest. My friend asks why I don’t pay the few cents and get the bigger size. How could anyone drink that much sugared syrup? I forgot America was like this. I tell my friend the story of how when they first brought the Mini to America, they had to revise the interior right after launch. Turns out they didn’t take American size cups into account. Had to redesign the interior for a country that demands the ability to have a cup with two gallons of coke in it.

Everything seems to be kosher. With so much choice how does anyone manage to make decisions? I pass by a corner falafel shop. The sign proudly announces their selection of Israeli style food, including chicken. I look through the window and see feathers on the floor. I’m not sure whether to be surprised or not. They sell chicken, doesn’t it make sense the feathers end up somewhere? I keep moving and decide to get breakfast from a bagel shop. I stand there for a minute observing and deciding. There’s no such thing as a line or any sort of civilized order, everyone seems to come in knowing what they want, shout it behind the counter, pay and leave. It’s an inelegant system but it seems to get the job done. I order the number two, an omelet on a bagel with a side of what they call home fries and what I would call hash browns. I specify no coffee because I don’t drink coffee. Turns out I still have to pay for the coffee, because it’s all part of the special. Ten minutes later I can’t eat another bite and I’ve still got half the omelet bagel and all the fries. How do you put away that much food for breakfast? I’m starting to understand the American obesity epidemic.

I find a payphone and call my friend, who won’t be flying in until tomorrow. I ask him where I can find an internet café. He suggests a bit of espionage. “You’re right near Landers. Go in and tell the security guard you need to go to registration go up then go down to C1 and you can use the computer labs there.” Don’t I need a login? Apparently not. Touro, your security sucks. On the plus side I get to write this post while my first New York morning is still fresh.

The Dutch are efficient. I would call them the nice Germans. My flight took off exactly as scheduled and we landed at 8.20pm to the minute. ELAL could learn a thing or two. On the downside they gave my kosher meal to someone else. The stewardess was so apologetic I ended up feeling sorry for her. No worries, I always pack sandwiches just in case. Did you know Amsterdam Airport has a casino in it? I’ve had a stopover in Las Vegas, so I was expecting the slot machines they had, but Amsterdam outdoes them will a fully featured casino. I didn’t even know the Dutch like to gamble. Despite the world thinking of Amsterdam as just Europe’s weed dealer, the airport is very gentrified. With the exception of some t-shirts you can buy you wouldn’t even know where you were. It’s all clogs, tulips and Rembrandt. Also they have a model of the airport made out of Lego. I badly wanted to start playing with it, move the planes around and make airport noises. I remind myself that I’m 23 and move on. I need to get gifts for my various hosts. The Department of Homeland Security has limited the amount of alcohol you can buy at duty free to one liter per person. Nowhere sells quarter-liter bottles, so I end up buy packs of Davidoff coffee as gifts. I didn’t even know Davidoff made coffee. I give it to my friend when he picks me up. Turns out he doesn’t even drink coffee.

(This post sponsored by the good people at Landers whose computers shut off twice before I’d saved it forcing me to start again from the beginning. Twice.)