An anniversary gone by

Tuesday would have been my 24th wedding anniversary. I recall it as one of my most blessed and most perfect of days. Everything had been planned and mapped out for me in advance. All I had to do was show up in my tuxedo and say my "I do's." It was a Sunday and there were meticulous plans as to when I was to make my appearance and when my bride was to be there. We weren't supposed to see each other during that day prior to the ceremony because superstituous members of the family said it would be bad luck. So, I was at the morning brunch for an hour and then I had to leave in anticpation of my wife-to-be showing up to meet with family, friends and well-wishers there. During the day, I cooled my heels waiting until it was time to leave for the synagogue. When it came to the wedding ceremony, I merely had to wait. And wait. And wait some more. My bride had arranged for limousines to pick up her bridal party, which had assembled at the Fairmont Hotel. The grooms, ushers and I had to get to the synagogue by the appointed time on our own. While the crowd gathered, an organist played Beatles songs during the period prior to the actual ceremony. It was a key point upon which my wife and I had insisted. Several qualified organists had turned down the opportunity to perform citing "artistic differences" in our choices for selections. At the last minute a friend of a friend volunteered to take on the job, but he went to Florida the week before to party with some of his friends and made both my future wife and I very stressed because he didn't bother to show up until the day of the rehearsal in order to familiarize himself with the organ and to pick up the music. That was the only real stress we dealt with in the days leading up to the wedding. My bachelor party the previous Thursday night was a disaster, but it was a carefree affair. For those of you who would like to think that there were strippers or pole dancers prepared to give lap dancers to moi, forget it. It was a very tepid evening consisting of a bunch of guys drinking a lot of booze at Pat O'Brien's in the French Quarter (a giant hurricane in a souvenier glass about the size of a small fish tank) and a trip back to a hotel room that quickly emptied when one of the members of our party emptied the contents of his stomach in the middle of the carpet. Gee, how romantic! The rehearsal dinner at the Fairmont Hotel the night before the wedding was a very swank affair and the best part was that the master of cermonies was my dad, who also stood as my best man at the wedding the next day. Sadly, the wedding book that he, the rabbi who performed the ceremony, my uncles, my wife and I signed was lost to the ravages of flooding following Hurricane Katrina. So, too, were all of my wedding pictures except for one picture of my bride that was kept in a frame very high on a downstairs wall. So, too, was the book of Beatles music the organist played. Yet, I still remember the day as a bright and beautiful memory of a romance that culminated in a grand candlelit event at Touro Synaogue attended by four hundred of our closest friends and family members. No rank waters or encroaching mold and mildew could ever wipe away my memories of that day or of the woman I loved so long ago or my dad, who both left this world within three weeks of one another ten years before the hurricane that decimated my city.

The Missing Commandments

Aside from having to repair a tire on the same day, the most distasteful thing I had to do this past Saturday at the Fall Encampment (see Monday's "Alone in the Woods with 2,000") was look through a storage shed at Salmen Scout Reservation looking for the Ten Commandments. Perhaps I should explain. For the past four years I have had the pleasure of leading a Ten Commandments Hike for the Southeast Louisiana Council of the Boy Scouts of America. Since 2004 we have had over 1,100 participants take the trek along historic St. Charles Avenue. At each stop along the way a religious leader or Scout leader would talk to the crowd and speak about one of the Ten Commandments. Since the 10 Commandments are generally recognized as the foundation of most of the world's largest religions, the concept is to reinforce the similarities between different faiths and to promote religious tolerance, diversity and acceptance under the umbrella of Scouting. In order to have a graphic reminder of the Ten Commandments, I made up ten foamboard cutouts in the shape of tablets, each bearing a Commandment. We've used them...er....uh....religiously...for the past four years at each stop and stored them after each hike in a room for safekeeping at the Southeast Louisiana Council's building in Metairie. A few weeks back that storage room was emptied in preparation for some new room assignments and the Ten Commandments were placed somewhere for safekeeping. Unfortunately, when I inquired as to their whereabouts, no one knew where they were and several professionals suggested they might have been placed on a truck that ended up being sent to the Scout camp located outside Kiln, Mississippi. The ranger in charge of the camp, Pat Necaise, and I both went through every box, locker and compartment we could find that afternoon. Nothing. Nada. No trace of the Ten Commandments. I sent off worried e-mails to all of the professionals yesterday asking them to make a concerted search again, but I was becoming quite anxious over the prospect of having to re-craft the tablets, each bearing Hebrew and English fonts. The prospect of at least 12 hours of work was looming large. Luckily, I received a call from the Scout Executive's administrative assistant within an hour and several e-mails back from others announced the happy news. "Ten Commandments Found!" read one. It's nice to know that even in the busiest or most turbulent financial times that I will be keeping (quite literally) the Ten Commandments from now on. And I can say for certain that I will positively be keeping them in my home. So, the Commandments are no longer missing and I can praise the Lord that they have been found. I am sure that the Almighty would remind me that the Ten Commandments have been around since Mt. Sinai and that I shouldn't have been so worked up over losing these foamboard representations. Perhaps my favorite saying about the Ten Commandments is this: God may very well have written the first prescription. After all, he told Moses "Take two tablets and call me in the morning!" The hike begins at 10 a.m. on Friday, November 28. It is open to the public. For more information go to

http://secure.bsa-selacouncil.org/registration/calendardetail.asp?ActivityKey=445434.
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Alone in the woods with 2,200 others

This weekend was a special one. Friday afternoon I headed off to Salmen Scout Reservation, located outside of Kiln, Mississippi (the home of Brett Favre) to help run the annual Fall Encampment. An expected 2,000 Cub Scouts, parents, grandparents and siblings blossomed to 2,200 as registration continued on Saturday morning for the event titled "Swamp Stomp." Activities for the Cub Scouts ran the gamut from canoeing (only permitted for Cub Scouts at council events), to preparing discarded flags for proper disposal, to archery, b-b guns and land boat races to name just a few. Several members of the award-winning Chilankatoba Lodge's Native-American dance team performed from the early morning till late in the afternoon on Saturday. On Saturday night the hillside next to the lake was filled with all of the participants who were treated to an incredible arena show with fun skits (pie throwing, "guests" like Homer Simpson, etc.) and a 20-minute long fireworks display that would rival many of those put on by major metropolitan markets. Sunday I helped lead an interfaith religious service that got everyone in a proper mood to pack up and move back to their homes. Despite this being the first camping experience for hundreds of participants, the campsites showed little wear and tear when all was finished. Much of the "Leave No Trace" component of camping was embraced throughout the weekend, I am happy to report. All in all it was a happy time with near perfect weather of blue skies and little wisps of clouds in the sky. Temperatures were pleasant during the day and a little nippy at night, but then that's what campfires are for, aren't they?

FourFront Productions'  presentation of Alan Bennett's "The History Boys" finished its run yesterday at Southern Repertory. Lucas Harms, one of the lead actors in the production and one of the four producers who gave the production company its unique name, thanked everyone who attended and reminded the audience that their next presentation will be "Altar Boys" on April 10 though 19, a short run during a very busy time of year in the city. The very large cast, practically all male, was very ably directed by Fred Nuccio, longtime stage manager at Le Petit Theatre du Vieux Carre. Aside from Harms, veteran director and performer David Hoover, who heads up the drama and theatre department at the University of New Orleans, and Beverly Trask added support to the cast members who portrayed British upper schoolboys. Among the excellent performances were those by P. J. McKinnie (Dakin), Joe Siebert (Lockwood) and Alex Lemonier (Posner). Lemonier sang several duets with Dr. Brian Rosenberg, who played piano throughout the three-hour show (including intermission). Rosenberg was bit by the acting bug prior to his becoming a doctor and it was a pleasure to see him still tread the boards , even after Meanwhile, Cripple Creek Theatre Company continues its production of "Erik the Fourteenth," a never-before-American-staged-play by Swedish playwright August Strindberg, until November 10. Quite compelling was the performance turned in by Keith Launey in the title role of the 16th Century paranoid, schizophrenic Swedish king, who literally went mad.

A Rolling Stone uses no floss

Believe it or not, Bill Wyman, the former bass player for the Rolling Stones makes 72 today. That's not just unbelievable, but downright scary. Wyman, Rolling Stones enthusiasts will tell you, he left the group in 1992 to tour with his own band, Bill Wyman's Rhythm Kings. For me, though, the Rolling Stones have always been (as billed) "the greatest rock and roll band in the world." True, they have gotten on in age and they haven't topped the charts lately, but the legacy they have left us since the early 60s is a treasure trove of some of the best rock, blues, dance and, yes, even country songs from the hit parade. The truth is that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards have been at the core of a hit-making, money machine for over four decades. I've always loved the Beatles, but the Rolling Stones have, due to the length and breadth of their work, have always been at the top of my best band list. It is a fact that the late Stones guitarist Brian Jones and I share the same birthday. When I lorded over my oldies show on WTUL-FM during the 1970s and early 1980, I closed every show with a song by the Rolling Stones. I am also proud to admit that the very first concert experience I had outside of New Orleans was in 1972 at the Rolling Stones' appearance in Mobile, Alabama. The two opening acts were not unknown or without talent. In fact Tina Turner had the first set, while Stevie Wonder followed her. Then the bad boys of British rock took the stage. It was an unreal night, but we were all kept in check by the numerous Mobile police officers armed with billy clubs who hovered over the crowd. Since that time I've seen the Stones in 1975, where they began their world tour in Baton Rouge. There were three other shows beginning in 1978 where I saw them again in the Superdome. All of these shows were special, although I must admit that the memories are a bit hazy now in the...er...ur...twilight of my years. But, then again, with Mick Jagger at 65 and Keith Richards set to reach that hallmark in another month and a half, I'm beginning to feel a bit younger.

The good, the bad and the ugly

In order to keep myself from bemoaning the declining state of the world economy, I have been scanning other headlines. The national news media has been clamoring for stories on the two presidential candidates as well as focusing on the economic downturn. So, I have been heading to the local newspaper pages or TV to find items of interest. The three items I found that made the most impact are not unlike the title of that old Clint Eastwood spaghetti western: "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly." (cue the music) THE GOOD. (♪Ahhhhhhhhh♪) First of all, the local recovery czar, Ed Blakely, has created some concern that he may not be staying here by next Mardi Gras. Seems that the $150,000 salary Blakely has been drawing in addition to his professor's salary he banks from the University of Sydney (as in Australia) is enough to keep him affixed in the city whose skyline he predicted would be full of cranes by last year. In case you didn't hear, the skyline is still unobstructed by cranes, although lots of pigeons still abound. Blakely claims it's all about his family in Sydney and how they need him. Eyebrows were raised a few weeks ago when Blakely headed over to burgeoning Dubai to consult with Middle East officials there about sustainable development. It's interesting that the recovery czar was there, since Dubai has 30,000 construction cranes, or about 24% of the total world's 125,000 cranes. Perhaps he wants to tend to his family's needs. I think that's possible, but it is curious. 

THE BAD. (♪Ahhhhhhhhh♪ )Meanwhile, a New Orleans police officer, Christopher Buckley, was arrested on Tuesday and charged with the rape of the 13-year-old daughter of his girlfriend. Apparently the ten-year veteran had been accused of rape at least twice in the past, but the district attorney's offices run by Harry Connick, Sr. in 2001 and, later in 2003,  Eddie Jordan chose not to seek an indictment of Buckley due to the  "failure of the victims or the victims parents" to cooperate with prosecutors, according to New Orleans police superintendent Warren Riley. The earlier cases involved one 16-year-old and two others ages 12 and 15. It's incredible to me that he got away with this kind of behavior with juveniles virtually unchecked by authorities. Suffice it to say that he is being held without bail in the House of Detention, where some of the criminals he arrested during his career may be alerting the rest of the population there as to who their newest inmate is.

THE UGLY. ( ♪Ahhhhhhhhh♪ )The last item of local interest caused me to look twice and make sure I had read it correctly. Apparently, the tradition of Louisiana malfeasance, political chicanery and corruption has not been wasted on the young. Miss Teen Louisiana, Lindsey Evans, lost her crown two days ago after it was revealed that she was arrested on charges of beating a food check (eat-and-run) and possession of marijuana last weekend. According to police, the pretty 18-year-old blonde did a very blonde-thing while dining with three other girlfriends. Instead of making a clean getaway, she left behind a pocketbook with her driver's license inside as well as a small amount of marijuana. When Evans and her posse returned for the pocketbook, police were there to escort her and her cronies down to the Bossier City jail. All four were booked with possession and theft. Paula Miles, the president of RPM Productions, the sponsor of the beauty pageant, stripped Evans of her title this week. Ironically, the next Miss Teen Louisiana will be crowned on November 1, so it won't be long before we are represented with a new captivating beauty. Let's hope that she doesn't also turn out to be another beauty in captivity.

The Joy of Torah

Would that I could take pictures of the joint Simchat Torah services held last night at Gates of Prayer Synagogue, the Reform house of worship where Orthodox Congregation Beth Israel meets. Just ponder the diversity of Jewish worship at Gates of Prayer. It was there that Rabbi Uri Topolosky welcomed Conservative Congregation Shir and rabbinical student Andy Shugerman to Beth Israel's meeting room and erstwhile sanctuary. Earlier, on Sunday, Shugerman welcomed Beth Israel to enjoy a Hoshanna Rabba sing-along featuring the dynamic voices of Pey Dalid. Pey Dalid and Ofer Kurtsburg, Beth Israel's own chazzan, sang along with Topolosky and his administrator, Rabbi David Posternock. Both Topolosky and Posternock provided additional guitar accompaniment to that of Pey Dalid, which also has a percussionist in the group of four. Because it was Yom Tov, no guitars were used at last night's Simchat Torah service. It really didn't matter, though. Everyone bellowed out their joy in enthusiastic fashion throughout the night, eventually dancing in the street with six sefer Torah scrolls, five from Beth Israel and one from Shir Chadash. It was the second year in a row that women were able to joyously dance with the scrolls, something that had never happened in 103 years of Beth Israel's existence until Rav Uri came to New Orleans last year. This new tradition was presaged by a fun game of Jewish Trivia moderated by Rabbis Topolosky and Shugerman. The singing and dancing was energetic and very physical. Pey Dalid even performed their own version of Jewish "gospel." It was inspiring to say the least. Because of the holiday, I couldn't take any pictures. Can I at least get an amen and a hallelujah?

Shemini Torah or Simchat Atzerets?

Well, I am confused. I know it is supposed to be Shemini Atzerets, the last day of the Succot holiday. Apparently, though, it is Simchat Torah/Shemini Atzerets, according to the Reform world. So I am wishing my Reform friends a joyous Simchat Torah (or as I used to say Simchas Torah) and waiting to wish the same to my more observant friends at sundown Tuesday. In any event it is weird to have different groups of Jews worshiping the same holiday on different days. You wouldn't have that problem in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Ah, well, guess I should just let it happen and enjoy the...er...uh...holidays.