It’s a collection of cartoons about Judaism (mostly)
published by The New Yorker in honor
of Yom Kippur.
But—and please forgive me, Roo—I’m using this as
an excuse to tell you two High Holy Days stories that were related to me during
my days working in the film industry.
The first was assistant to one of the execs at HBO
Films, not Jewish, but from Brooklyn. (Of course, being a secretary was just
his day job, silly. He was pitching a concept for a sitcom set in a gas station.)
He swore that after sunset at the end of Yom Kippur it’s impossible to get into
a Chinese restaurant anywhere in the borough.
On account of people spend the entire day in shul and fasting…
The second was a producer at Charles Fries
Productions. He was Jewish and attended holiday services at Wilshire
Boulevard Temple, where a lot of people in the film industry went. Keep in mind
that this was back in the 80s, when the only connectivity option on the go was
pay phones. Remember them?
Anyway, Richard swore that during the breaks in
services you did not want to be anywhere between the agents and the bank of
pay phones in the lobby, because there was a mad stampede for them.
I have to wonder how the sensibilities of our
current times affect these aspects. I mean—I’ve been in Episcopalian services
where people bring in bottled water; and trust me—Episcopalians run a tight
ship, and these services don’t run longer than 60 minutes. (I’m expecting triple shot mochachinos and; bagels any day now.)
And as for going hours without checking your mobile
device for texts, emails or Facebook updates—fuggedaboutit.
Besides—someone might be apologizing to all their
friends. Wouldn't want to miss that.
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