Davy Jones, Goodbye, Let's Meet the Walrus

Listening to Soundcheck with John Schaefer on NPR right now, and I can't believe that I missed the news from last week that Davy Jones passed away at age 66.  I must have been raging the Purim festivities too much which kept me out of the loop.  As a great contributor to 60s popular music, he will be missed.  Not that I watched the Monkees when it first came out.  I was too young.

I also can't believe that Stango doesn't recall this episode of the Brady Bunch with Davy Jones.  It was always one of my favorites.

Here is where Marcia tries to bust into the recording studio to confirm that Davy will perform at her prom, only to be turned away.




Here is where Davy comes to the Brady house and meets her, finally, and satisfying every rock star's dream.




All thanks to the Beatles, the Monkees were a cultivated, made-for-TV band inspired by the Beatles that actually turned into something.

Speaking of which, I played one of my favorites, "I am the Walrus," for the kinderlach today.  When I asked their feedback, Concealed Light replied, "He said I am the egg man."  We all agreed it is weird and different.

When I asked about the line "sitting on a cornflake," I lost them.




Finally,  you should watch this pretty awesome animated interview with John Lennon called "I Met the Walrus" which is actually the reel-to-reel interview done by Jerry Levitan as a 14 year old when he snuck into Lennon's Toronto hotel room in 1969.

Ghetto Love To You, Daniel Son

Leave it to spin class to make me feel old.  I am not talking about knee pain, muscle soreness or not being able to keep up with the peppy 20-something instructors.  As I frequently mention, spin class keeps me in check with new music.  Even if it isn't exactly my speed, it gives me a sense of being down with popular culture.  I am not the hippest of mamas, but I know more music than the average Whole Foods shopper.   So when Karl Wolf's "Ghetto Love," which samples Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love," played on the speakers at this morning's class, I was instantly reminded that my memory is going everywhere but up.

 

As long as you didn't live on some hippy commune or in Satmar Williamsburg, if you came of age in the United States during the 80s, you most likely recognize the familiar refrain "I am the man who will fight for your honor, I'll be the hero that you're dreaming of."  It was in a really popular movie that I saw a lot.  The problem was that I could not recall which one.  Or who sang it.  And I knew that I saw this movie many, many times over.  I kept knocking on my brain and no one answered.  I was sure that I slow-danced to this tune with my first boyfriend at a BBYO Beau-Sweetheart Dance.  I most likely cried many tears to it while listening on a Maxell II-S mix tape entitled "Rachel's Love Songs."  And yet, I.Could.Not.Remember.  Oy, I thought to myself, now I am really turning into my mother.

The thing that really got my goat was that none of the other women in spin class could place it either.  But for a different reason.  Not because their brains have been fried from working, cooking, cleaning, homework-checking, schedule-managing, and all the other stuff that comes along with parenting.  These women were obviously younger than me, and I realized that their lack of recognition was likely because they were still in diapers at the time of the debut of "Glory of Love."

As we were all toweling off at the end of class, one woman Shazamed it and reported that the original song was by the band Chicago.  Ah, this made sense to me.  It did, after all, SOUND like Chicago.  Thank God for Wikipedia to inform me later on that Peter Cetera released this song as a solo shortly after he left Chicago.

To the rescue came a guy who was spinning in the front row and whom I will call Daniel.  He was clearly closer to my generation than the young women I previously asked:

"Karate Kid, all the way," Daniel said.  Phew!  What relief!





But he didn't get it fully on-target.

Daniel Son, it was Karate Kid II.  Time for us Gen Xers to get a brain check.

Yosef Yerushalmi, of blessed memory

"By common consent, Kafka is not only the strongest modern Jewish writer, but the Jewish writer.  His only rival increasingly seems to be Freud, who, together with Kafka, may yet redefine Jewish culture for us, and so change our sense of Jewish memory."

This is what Harold Bloom wrote in his forward of the late Yosef Yerushalmi's monumental work Zakhor. which explores how modern Jews relate to their histories and memories.

Yerushalmi, the world's leading scholar of Jewish history in our time, has passed away at the age of 77.  Check out the New York Times and Forward  for informative obituaries.

His loss is a great one to the Jewish world today, but his contributions are vast and have affected our community in ways of which the average American Jew might be completely unaware.

The Whole Phamily is interested in the name Yerushalmi.  Before learning about his background and upbringing, we posited that he was a native Jerusalemite, as the Hebrew "Yerushalmi" literally translates as "of Jerusalem" and is a surname used for families who have lived for generations in that city.

Yet, we learned that Yerushalmi has a similar heritage to many of our own Eastern European-born ancestors who immigrated here at the turn of the century.  His father, Yehuda Yerushalmi as noted on Zakhor's dedication page, emigrated to British-ruled Palestine when, we are guessing, he Hebraicized his name.  He then later settled in the Bronx, where the younger Yerushalmi was born and raised.

The concept of changing one's given last name (like Weiss, Perlman, or Ginsberg) at the turn of the century and into a Hebrew equivalent (such as Halivni, Ben-Yehuda, or Ha'am) is still practiced today.  At Ellis Island (likely in Galveston as well), Jews Americanized their names, but in Israel many Jews have Hebraicized.

Last week some of us at the Whole Phamily had the incredible honor and privilege to bear witness to the kiddushin and nissuin (Jewish marriage) of our dear friend D.  At the wedding tisch (where the bride, kallah, rocked the house!) prior to the ceremony,  D touched on the topic of memory, and we could not help but think that he was referring to Yerushalmi, who passed away only weeks before the next chapter of D's journey. We believe that all things happen for a reason:  Yerushalmi's own memory wafted through the honored air of perhaps one of the most bashert couples we have ever had the mazal of knowing.

Is this too much?  It's way over our heads here at the Whole Phamily.  So,we think it's time to kick back and reflect on these Heavy Things.

Meanwhile, if you find an affordable paperback of Zakhor, let us know, since we are returning the copy that has rested on our bookshelf for many years.

Why is that the case?  For your Jewish geography-desiring ears:

Our copy belonged to an old camp friend's college friend who he has known since 8th grade, but that we met on our own during our post-college years through another friend we worked with at a different camp (but of the same Jewish camping movement).  The book is inscribed by his college girlfriend prior to his own post-college visit to Minsk.

And, isn't Minsk (which is now-Belarus) where my great-great grandfather Yisroel Bear was from?  (see the Whole Phamily's 2nd blog post).

Maybe we should get back onto JewishGen...

The connections are endless...