Musings
Do you remember years ago?
When Lag Ba’omer came
The only thing that’s similar
We hoped it would not rain
But otherwise in ‘64
Things were different then
At least for me, as a young kid
In times of “way back when”
We thought that Lag Ba’omer
Was like any other day
A bit of music and a trip
In old time USA
I know we said no Tachanun
But that’s about it all
I think we ran around the park
And played a little ball
They handed us some arrows
With flimsy crafted bows
Exactly what it meant back then
I think that no one knows
We always took a school bus
On a hot and bumpy ride
Our rebbi did not hit home runs
For the “bums from the East Side”
‘Cause I lived in Long Island
In 1964
There were no boys yeshivos there
Against whom we could score!
But we never gathered wood
Compete who’d make it higher
My parents surely would not like
If we would play with fire
I do not remember much
I am not sure just why
We did not sing the holy song
Rav Shimon Bar Yochai
We hardly heard of Zohar
“Kabbolah was not “a thing”
And so the music teacher
Had other songs to sing
We sang about good middos
And “Amar Rabi Akiva”
V’ahavta lerei’acha
What we sang in yeshiva
Those born in the ‘50s
Will sing along with me
The second half that quotes the verse
Of sheloch and sheli
The world is very different
You youngsters do not chap
The only crowds we had back then
Were in the barber shop!
But Klal Yisroel’s grown so large
The simcha’s now on fire
And zemiros! Rebbes! Hadlakos!
Thousands do inspire!
And now my smile widens
When fires burn so bright
And thousands of talmidim
Dance into the night
A new world in America
Not 1964
The only hope I can express
That it grows more and more
