When I received the news that a musical on the life of Rabbi Schlomo Carlebach had hit Broadway and that gentiles were wishing each other a gut shabbes, I literally trembled in my skin knowing that Schlomo had reached out of the Jewish world where he brought so many back to their roots to the beyond…bringing yiddishkeit to the world at large and us Jews into the limelight as a light unto the nations. I have no doubt this musical will become a mega hit, bigger than Jesus Christ Superstar ever was and the word of Torah will be on everybody’s lips bringing an end to exile.

That’s the power of love and giving of yourself right there. It knows no limitations.

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She was invited to Hebrew University to speak about her latest book of poetry Prairie Kaddish.

Having been married to a man from the Prairies and having visited Western Canada a number of times, I could not only relate to the Yiddish poems, but also the big Prairie sky, the flat farming land and the grain elevators she writes about.

Bishop John Borders the third (right of the pic) was also visiting the holy city. He came to work with me on his new book, a personal memoir that discusses the Boston Miracle, the stabbing that took place in his church while he was officiating at a funeral and how that terrible violent event triggered many changes and as a result the crime rate dropped considerably in Boston from that day.

Isa who was born in Blue Hill Ave, the very same district where Bishop John’s Baptist Church is located, was thrilled to meet him. Some serendipitous meetings can only happen in Jerusalem at the Harmony Vacation Apartments!

I’m usually tucked up in bed by now in pyjamas, not dressed in shorts and purple suede sandals  - my feeble attempt at Rock Mother.  But I couldn’t miss my son and his band Umlala celebrating the release of their first album STANDGOSHOWSHOUT. 

By the looks of this queue at the entrance to the trendy venue, it’s going to be sold out.

I’ve been banned backstage ever since the band got a manager, so I’ve just got to wait with everyone else for the warm up band to finish up. Pity – I’ve always liked it backstage, rubbing shoulders with rock stars like Frank Zappa. It was some party back then, but I’m not looking for any of that now, just my greatest joy, my boy, I think as I elbow my way into the crowded and smoky club, the very same stage where only a year and a half ago, the third time he ever performed on stage, JJ won the national completion to represent Israel at the GBOB -Global Battle of the Bands in London (and came in fifth!).

Waiting for him to come on stage is pure agony. If it wasn’t for the support of Ilan and Daphna, I’d probably pass out from the sheer excitement of it all.  The crowd is getting restless too, clapping and shouting out their mantra of we want Umlala.

And there he is!  Ohmygod he’s so gorgeous! And starting out with my favourite number Big Pressure (click here!) with the help of two back-up singers, violins, a sax and cello, and he’s conducting the entire orchestra with those autistic, jerky hand movements of his.

There’s something about the tune, the niggun of it, that makes me think of my late father. Daddy he’s like you with your talent for capturing an audience, the same charisma singing his nonsense lyrics that you exuded when you delivered your legendary, articulate sermons enabling you single-handedly to raise the consciousness of your London congregation (which I now appreciate was no easy feat and duly deserved a knighthood for services rendered to the British Isles).

Music must be in JJ’s genes but skipped a generation. Or maybe not. Recently I also sang in public at the request of Pastor John Borders III who I met on a Boston TV show while promoting my memoir. At his invitation I brought the entire Morning Star Baptist Church to their feet with my rendition of one of my father’s Sabbath melodies and had them jiving and shaking and crying out Shalom on all Israel. Like my son and my father, I loved being up there up in the limelight, drinking in all that love.

Reporters are clicking away at JJ’s every move. At twenty- three years old, my boy put together the most professional, slick, fun extravaganza. A real night on the town.

I’m sure JJ won’t have time for me so I slip away quietly. But he’s moving past all the groupies with his arms open wide. Forget the fact that his shirt is sopping wet and I’m getting all sweaty too. I couldn’t care less. You know why? Cos it’s that overwhelming naches feeling washing over me again, and there’s nothing in the whole wide world that can come close to it…

Reva Mann

Umlala, translated from the Hebrew, means miserable. And miserable he has been which is reflected in his nonsense lyrics. (He’s pretty happy now!)

The Barbie Club gig is not only a major event in my personal calendar but also an exciting evening for the Israel music scene. I mean what other Indie Rock band has been televised for a major music show the third time they ever performed or won the GBOB contest and represented Israel in the UK as unknowns?

My son the rock star! How I love the lilt of those words on my tongue. I’ve always wanted one in the family. As a teen I used to wish my father was a rocker instead of a rabbi. When he blessed me on Friday nights, I fantasized that his long rabbinic gown was a sequined jacket, his velvet hexagonal hat a long shaggy hairdo, and his prayer book an electric guitar.

So there you have it. I shall be there rocking and rolling and qvelling with naches as only a Jewish mother can.

Be there or be square!

Reva

But it wasn’t. Quite the reverse. After a warm welcome from Nadav the pool manager, I threw myself into my routine with vigour, enjoying the silence, the still waters that offer yet another chance for meditation and prayer. Is it just being home or Jerusalem pulling me back once again?