Friday, February 26, 2010

Neo-Nazis in Woodstock

That's what they should be called--
The letter-writers who continually bash Israel--
They are ill-educated...unsophisticated...angry...believe whatever they want to long as it's against Jews.
"Stupid" is probably the best word for them.

These days, a good many wacko people are seeking attention. And I guess the neo-Nazis feel it's their turn. That woman who wrote a book called "Traitors," saying all Democrats are traitors? Glen Beck? Every nutcase is seeking the spotlight these days--so why not the neo-Nazis?

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Tarak Kauff

There’s this letter-writer in Woodstock, Tarak Kauff, always writing anti-semitic letters to the local paper. And he claims he’s Jewish.

A pompous, pretentious housepainter. His letters are verbose and otiose. And he is ill-educated and ignorant.

But he writes with the assurance of a sage! Some with an IQ of 80 who thinks he has an IQ of 120!

This jerk, for example, claimed that Albert Einstein was against Israel.

Actually, a recent biography of Einstein proves that he was a strong Zionist.

Even Kauff’s misinformation just shows the shallowness of his thinking.

Kauff is mainly after attention. He thought and thought—and eureka! He realized that he could get attention by criticizing Israel at every opportunity—and saying again and again that he’s Jewish.

What a contemptible person!

Thursday, February 04, 2010

Encounter With Renee Fleming

At first, I had no idea what I might say to diva Renee Fleming, standing nearby at a late-night reception at the Harvard Club in New York City on Feb. 3. Then I had an inspiration.
“I have a question,” I said. She turned to me. “Yes?”
“Gracie Moore said that once, when she was about to sing a high C, the tenor singing next to her deliberately stepped on her foot.”
Fleming laughed and said, if she said it, it must be true.
She wrote it, I said. Has anything like that ever happened to you?
“Tenors,” she said. “If I was about to hold a note longer than the tenor, he would squeeze my arm to let me know I should stop.”
I was thinking of mentioning that Franco Corelli had once complained to Rudolf Bing that Birgit Nilsson, in a duet they were singing that night, had held a note longer than he had. Bing told him to bite her the next time it happened. So, later on, apparently he nipped her—on the shoulder, perhaps.
The next day, Nilsson phoned Bing. She might have to cancel a few performances, she warned him. She had to be examined for rabies.
But while I was thinking of mentioning this to Renee Fleming, she had already turned to listen to another of her admirers. And I’m sure she had already heard that story anyway.