The Time Statler and Waldorf Drove me to the Kotel



I got into a cab to go to the Kotel today. Not really the Kotel, I haven’t been feeling that for awhile. But I do go to the sealed up entrance to the Kodesh Kedoshim when I feel like there are some things I want to say. And there are some things I wanted to say. You pay to go to the “tunnel tours” unless you tell them you are going to pray and then they step aside and let you walk through the cavernous areas filled with untold history. And there are tour groups and bar mitzvahs and wanderers but I go to the small part of an underground hallway and sit down and say some words.

To get there today I jumped into a cab. Nothing kills my holiness vibe than hunting for parking. The cab had a passenger in it or so I thought but, in truth, the front seat came as a package deal, a dynamic duo, the equivalent of Borscht Belt Entertainers of the 1950s.

And they kvetch about their children and how one continues to spoil his son at age 35. They talk about politics and throw out the words Obama and Kenya enough times to make Trump proud. To prove they aren’t racist in the slightest they list all the races they know (or so it seems) in ways that would make liberal arts colleges shrivel up and whimper. But they know that Kotel and are happy to give me a laundry list of things to add to my prayers.

And then the music comes on and it must be their favorite song ever because those 70 year old men can sure belt it out. And then the Kotel comes into view and they are disapproving of the lack of upkeep of the Dome of the Rock — in our day, they tell me, it used to shine.

And then off I go. I pay them before we arrive because stopping by the Kotel is too crazy so they don’t want to make a full stop, they slow down and I leap out. It all seems bizarrely reasonable in this Twilight Zone cab.

I loved the Muppets growing up (possibly because it was one of the three shows we were allowed to watch) but I have a newfound appreciation for Statler and Waldorf who exist in a parallel universe — one where only they find themselves truly entertaining. But for today I was happy to go along for the ride.




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