A Story of Long Ago

OK, not that long ago, but over 10 years ago.

I've been listening to/watching classical music lately, mainly inspired by the boys' comments on the classical music that Husbinator generally plays in the car. (BSM: guessing the correct family of instruments, even if he's a little off "Is this a flute? Is this a violin?" FF: always "Right this is piano and violin, Ema? Right this is piano and violin? RIGHT THIS IS PIANO AND VIOLIN, ABBA? RIGHT????")

The Sinfónica de Galicia has lovely recordings (Scheherazade op.35 conducted by Leif Segerstam is well worth its 50 minutes), and yesterday, I discovered a really fun conductor named Christian Vásquez (I highly recommend Tico Tico, which is three-and-a-half minutes plus applause). So now I'm trawling through other pieces that he has conducted, and seeing his tailcoat reminds me of the titular Story of Long Ago (which, as we have established, isn't all that ancient).

***

A little over ten years ago, while I was waiting at a bus stop in Jerusalem, a woman started chatting with me, and very quickly recommended that I go on a date with some guy she knew. There were many reasons to politely decline: I wasn't currently interested in dating, I certainly wasn't interested in dating a guy suggested by a stranger who knew nothing about me and whose trustworthiness I could not verify, and anyway, something she said about the guy (or was it just that she was pushing a stranger to date him?) seemed a bit off.

Not wanting to offend (or argue), however, I latched onto a pretense. The woman had mentioned that this man was a Gur Chassid, so I told her that I "didn't have a Chassidic heart", and so wouldn't consider dating within the Chassidish world. Which, granted, was true, but rather besides the point. The woman laughed a little and, gesturing to her hip, said, "Ah, you're looking for a half-suit (חצי חליפה)!" Picturing a standard suit jacket compared to a long Chassidish bekeshe, I laughed and agreed, and that was the end of it.

Which just goes to show you, eh?

(For the record, a few years later my roommate recommended that I date now-Husbinator, and she warned me that he dressed like a Chassid, bekeshe and all. I quickly established that he wasn't culturally Chassidish, and then rightly dismissed clothing choice as not a deal-breaker. After all, as I told her, I walk around Midtown Manhattan in a cloak, so who am I to judge? Speaking of which, it's a good thing I sewed myself a second cloak in my senior year of college, because the first winter after we were married, Husbinator completely appropriated my first cloak.)