I’m relaxing in my black leather chair, with my feet on my desk, intently listening to my favorite harmonica player, Lois Gilbert.

She’s playing a rendition of a jazz classic entitled, “Once in a While.”

It’s a 1937 tune written by Michael Edwards with lyrics by Bob Green.

Lois plays it beautifully.

And my ears kvell.

I google the lyrics and learn the song’s universal message.

Lover wants girlfriend back but she has moved onto another man.

Lover prays that “once in a while” she thinks about him.

For if she does, there’s a glimmer of a chance, an ember of hope, that she’ll return to him.

Yeah, I’ve been there and so have you.

But now, those four words—once in a while—twist and twirl around my brain, like a Kansas tornado, before crashing on my blogging house.

And I think, “Once in a while, I’d like to write less about anti-Semitism.”

Is that possible?

I doubt it.

I know that I’m obsessed.

Yes, even my friends and family tell me so.

But just because I’m obsessed and a bit paranoid doesn’t mean that almost every day, when I read the news in TOI or the Jerusalem Post, that the bigots or the neo-Nazis or the racists haven’t found a way to worm themselves into headlines and into my head.

And just because I’m a bit paranoid doesn’t mean I live in the land of fear.

Yes, Holocaust deniers make me nervous.

Yes, haters are often murders.

And yes, every day these crazies act nuttier and nuttier.

And yes, I must call them out for their repugnant behavior.

And yes, I know there’s a chance that my words may lead to consequences or have repercussions.

But I will not live in the land of fear.

So you ask me,  “Why is this happening?”

I want to blame the plethora of anti-Semitism found in the social media.

But I know that years ago, Hitler sold his propaganda with movies, books, newspapers and radio.

I know that when the naive read or see or listen to enough of this anti-Semitic crap, it eventually sinks into their small minds and they fall prey to the message.

I know that many of these brainwashed find invitations in their emails to join racist clubs or meetings or rallies.

And I know some of them join, attend and rally.

And I know they’re everywhere.

Scan my blogs and you’ll see the haters have found entry in every profession, from cops, to soldiers, to librarians, to school teachers and their students.

Scan my blogs and you’ll read about their terror attacks across our nation on synagogues, churches, schools, police stations, daycare centers, nursing homes, and even cemeteries.

And I know that Shirley Jackson is right when she calls these idiots, “gullible, rude, frequently illiterate and horribly afraid of being laughed at.”

So you ask, “Who empowered these reptiles to stick their slimy necks out of their shells.”

You know.

I don’t have to tell you.

But as your slightly obsessive, slightly paranoid blogger,

“Prepare for some rough times ahead.”

So do any of you take me seriously?

I doubt it.

Will any of you take any form of action?

I doubt it.

But maybe a few of you do and that’s enough for me.

Yes, you’re my glimmer of a chance, my ember of hope because “once in a while” you even say, “Thanks.”

And that’s enough for me.

See first 18 comments in my TOI blog.

19. Thumbs up.—Ashren

20. Very good.—Barry

21. Thumbs up.—Perry

22. Beautiful.—Susie

Convicted felon, Timothy Hale-Cusanelli, now faces up to 20 years in prison for his role in the January 6th insurrection.

You know Timothy Hale-Cusanelli.

Yup, he’s the guy you saw all over the internet sporting a Hitler moustache and Adolf’s comb-over hair style.State of Jerusalem: The MaqdasyinKeep Watching

Well, he was convicted of obstructing the work of Congress.

In his defense, Timothy testified, “I did not realize that the Congress met in the Capitol.”

And the jury rolled their eyes.

Then Timothy added, “I feel like an idiot, it sounds idiotic and it is.”

I wondered:

“What other statements could flow out of Timothy’s idiotic mouth?”

“What else would he say to reduce his prison time?”

Here’s my list of Timothy’s, “I didn’t know that”:

White supremacists hated Jews, Blacks and Hispanics;

Hitler wore a Charlie Chaplin moustache;

The Nazis murdered six million Jews;

I would be considered anti-Semitic because I admired Hitler;

Hoping for a “civil war” to cleanse society of Jews, Blacks, Hispanic and Gays was a bad thing;

Saying, “Hitler should have finished the job meant killing more Jews;”

Saying, “The Holocaust never happened would upset the Jews;”

Saying, “Babies born with any deformities or disabilities should be shot in the forehead was cruel;”

Saying, “I would kill all the Jews and eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I wouldn’t need to season them because the salt from their tears would make it flavorful enough” was sick.”

And finally, I wondered:

“Why would Orthodox American Jews march, storm and attack the Capitol on January 6, 2021 with the likes of this Nazi scum?

And please remind me, who was that old guy that egged them on and told them he would lead them on to the Capitol steps?”

I open my e-mail to find a YouTube posting from my friend, Lois Gilbert.

Attached in the e-mail is Lois’ harmonica rendition of ‘Sunrise Sunset.’

Lois’ better half, Vincent LaVorgna, creates her YouTube video collages to accompany her music.

I play the video, I listen to the music and I cry.

Yes, this 73-year-old man still sheds a tear when he listens to or mouths the words to or sings ‘Sunrise Sunset.’

For I do know all of Sheldon Harnick’s lyrics by heart.

For I do remember the wedding scene in Fiddler on the Roof as if I watched the movie last night:

The sun is setting;

The shtetl streets are almost dark, as the town folks and the wedding party, holding lit candles, silently move in a procession  toward the synagogue:

They are accompanied by the music of a wedding band—a violin, a clarinet and a drum;

In the temple, now lit by candlelight, the bespectacled groom wears a black suit and a black top hat;

His bride is dressed in a soft white gown and a white veil covers her face;

They stand in awe—looking at each other—under a large white chuppah or wedding canopy;

They sip some red wine from a crystal glass;

The groom crushes the wine glass with his right foot;

And as the attendees hear the glass splinter, they shout ‘mazel tov’;

I recall Tevya crying as the cast sings the refrain.

Sunrise, sunset,
Swiftly flow the days.
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers,
Blossoming even as we gaze.

For even as a teen, when I first heard those lyrics resonating from the Broadway stage, I knew that one day, if I was lucky, I would listen to them sung at my wedding and my children’s/grandchildren’s bar mitzvah parties and at their weddings.

Well, I’ve been lucky.

For I’ve seen my fair share of sunrises and sunsets.

Sunrise, sunset ,
Swiftly fly the years,
One season following another,
Laden with happiness and tears.
What words of wisdom can I give them,
How can I help to ease their way?

Yes, my seasons have swiftly flown away.

Yes, my years have been laden with happiness and tears.

And yes, in the sunset of my life, I have a few words of wisdom:

Watch as many sunrises and sunsets as possible;

Ride your crests of happiness knowing that one day your waves will crash and turn into a rivers of tears;

Enjoy listening to Fiddler’s ‘Sunrise Sunset’;

In its honor, cry a few tears, for only you understand your

happiness and sorrow.

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63. Sending love.—Susie

64. Beautiful.—Ilene

65. Heart.—Gail

66. Thumbs up.—Linda