kaddish in two-part harmony
A conversation between an anthropologist and a musician along with a growing virtual minyan, on themes of death and dying, grief, ritual, and the interplay between music and words.about
Tag Archives: Seymour Fromer
the stones I cannot place
My mother’s ‘passing’ has crippled my writing. And apparently that’s not all. It would be unfair to blame her, per se, because that would be rude. But I’ve had a sneaking suspicion that she’s had a hand in it. Some … Continue reading →
like an addiction, it’s hard to stop—
I can’t quite take the pictures down. Can’t quite stop staring at them. Can’t call it an altar exactly, but I know others do. Others have. And others will. How do we stop mourning and put the pictures away? And … Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, Seymour Fromer z"l, tzaddik stories
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Tagged dads, letting go, Mira Z. Amiras, mourning, Seymour Fromer, tzaddik
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daily kaddish: on Mira’s dad’s birthday
Thank you, Mira, for tonight, and for joining me in this project. It’s an honor to be here with you. May the Tzaddik rest in peace. Continue reading →
Posted in kaddish in two-part harmony, podcasts, project news
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Tagged dads, emotions, eulogy, musicians, Seymour Fromer, tzaddik
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the tzaddik and the automobile of art maintenance
Everybody knows about the tzaddik’s cars. They were fairly famous. His vehicles impersonated him. They imprinted on him. Everybody remembers particular stories about his cars. Only I don’t know all of the stories. And that really bugs me. I guess … Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, Seymour Fromer z"l, tzaddik stories
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Tagged collector, dads, Magnes Museum, Malkah, Seymour Fromer
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my father’s favorite boys speak up
Did the tzaddik walk into a bar? Did he drink a beer? Did he watch the World Series on that day? So. The answer appears to be (I’ll cut to the chase) — no, he did not. The whole tzaddik … Continue reading →
a tzaddik walks into a bar…
They were driving between X and Y — who knows where they’d been. They were rushing. Last game of the World Series was about to start, and they weren’t anywhere near getting back on time to watch the game. Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, Seymour Fromer z"l, tzaddik stories
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Tagged abstinence, alchohol, alcohol, Bronx, Islam, Malkah, Seymour Fromer, tzaddik stories, World Series, Yankee Stadium
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my father’s favorite boys
Fred and Harold and my dad were like the Marx Brothers. Or the Coen Brothers. Or the Brady Bunch. Or. Or. Or maybe there was nothing like them at all. A team. A pack. A family. A coven. A comedy … Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, Seymour Fromer z"l, tzaddik stories
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Tagged dads, Jewish education, Magnes Museum, Seymour Fromer, yizkor
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the tzaddik and the negotiator — a mother’s day meditation
Malkah was in such awe of the tzaddik that she spent most of her time with him asking questions, and nodding at the wisdom of his responses. Of course, his responses generally started with the need to do more research. … Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, Seymour Fromer z"l, tzaddik stories
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Tagged collector, dads, Malkah, moms, Mrs Tzaddik, Seymour Fromer, tzaddik stories
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on the transmigration of souls (jewish deli style)
You wouldn’t think that the Jewish tradition was big on transmigration of souls — but it is. I’m not even sure this concept is taught much anymore in more mainstream non-Orthodox and Hassidic circles. But what do I know? … Continue reading →
the bookstore
So. The bookstore the other day — One of Malkah’s favorite things to do on planet Earth was to go with the tzaddik on his frequent forays into the dark and gloomy bowels of used bookstores. Holmes Books, in … Continue reading →
Posted in essays, kaddish in two-part harmony, tzaddik stories
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Tagged dads, death and dying, Dostoevsky, Holmes Books, Mohammad Bouazizi, Nancy Drew, Raskolnikov, revolution, Seymour Fromer
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