We can't go on with suspicious minds.
I always, always, ALWAYS have that Elvis song in my head. Don't ask me why. Well, when I don't have that Whitesnake "Here I Go Again on My Own" song. But these things really don't bear confessing in such a public venue: I digress, at my own expense.
Really, what I came to say was that we spent Yom Kippur in Memphis, TN. There were plans A, B, C and D re: where we were going to atone and fast, spanning everywhere from Austin to Atlanta to most places in between. But we settled on Memphis. This morning, before we drove out, we ate here:
It is "the oldest cafe in Memphis," where Mystery Train and Walk the Line and a million other movies were filmed. We had the luxurious combo of BOTH hash browns and biscuits. Eli wished for bottomless biscuits: tough luck, Oberman.
My point here is that as many of you know, the one celebrity in my mishpocha is Elvis, having been my dad's downstairs neighbor in a two-family house owned by Memphis' kosher butcher circa 1953 (Buy me a drink and I'll tell you Fruchter family Elvis gossip! I promise!). My dad was a baby and Elvis was a teen, known to love cuff links, and to be, as my Bubbe might have put it, a very sweet fellow. My Bubbe and Gladys Presley used to caffienate together on the porch while my grandfather, an Orthodox rabbi, would play cantorial records upstairs. We were going to go by said house, but it turned out that it is now a highway, which made me kind of sad. I also considered going to the synagogue where my grandfather was rabbi, but ended up elsewhere. Still, getting to be there was pretty awesome in light of all my family's history there, especially for Yom Kippur, DESPITE the fact that our pre-fast meal was some of the most speedily consumed Subway subs ever, devoured moments before lurching in our ever-inconspicuous NY van into the more-enormous-than-we'd-ever-seen-before synagogue parking lot.
In conclusion: we're about to be in Athens, and something pretty earth-shattering has just now happened. The less Star Wars-educated among us (that would be Oberman and Fruchter, in descending order) were taught the "Ewok Celebration song," during our stay in Memphis. Just now, as I wrote this, it was simultaneously blasting through the van by way of youtube dot com, with lyrics that begin "yub nub." Some of you will be familiar with the Ewok scene that ensues, but I certainly wasn't, so you'll excuse (and understand) the abrupt nature with which I now cease to blog, in a manner of profound shock.
Temim.
Really, what I came to say was that we spent Yom Kippur in Memphis, TN. There were plans A, B, C and D re: where we were going to atone and fast, spanning everywhere from Austin to Atlanta to most places in between. But we settled on Memphis. This morning, before we drove out, we ate here:
It is "the oldest cafe in Memphis," where Mystery Train and Walk the Line and a million other movies were filmed. We had the luxurious combo of BOTH hash browns and biscuits. Eli wished for bottomless biscuits: tough luck, Oberman.
My point here is that as many of you know, the one celebrity in my mishpocha is Elvis, having been my dad's downstairs neighbor in a two-family house owned by Memphis' kosher butcher circa 1953 (Buy me a drink and I'll tell you Fruchter family Elvis gossip! I promise!). My dad was a baby and Elvis was a teen, known to love cuff links, and to be, as my Bubbe might have put it, a very sweet fellow. My Bubbe and Gladys Presley used to caffienate together on the porch while my grandfather, an Orthodox rabbi, would play cantorial records upstairs. We were going to go by said house, but it turned out that it is now a highway, which made me kind of sad. I also considered going to the synagogue where my grandfather was rabbi, but ended up elsewhere. Still, getting to be there was pretty awesome in light of all my family's history there, especially for Yom Kippur, DESPITE the fact that our pre-fast meal was some of the most speedily consumed Subway subs ever, devoured moments before lurching in our ever-inconspicuous NY van into the more-enormous-than-we'd-ever-seen-before synagogue parking lot.
In conclusion: we're about to be in Athens, and something pretty earth-shattering has just now happened. The less Star Wars-educated among us (that would be Oberman and Fruchter, in descending order) were taught the "Ewok Celebration song," during our stay in Memphis. Just now, as I wrote this, it was simultaneously blasting through the van by way of youtube dot com, with lyrics that begin "yub nub." Some of you will be familiar with the Ewok scene that ensues, but I certainly wasn't, so you'll excuse (and understand) the abrupt nature with which I now cease to blog, in a manner of profound shock.
Temim.
posted by The Shondes at 7:24 PM
1 Comments:
i always always always have that elvis song in my head, too... though it's alternating partner is usually bel biv devoe's "poison" and not whitesnake.
wow, i love tour blogs, it almost feels like i'm traveling along with ya'll. hope all is well with the shondes!
-lo
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