The Kiddush Club–"Cantor for a Day"

I flew to Toronto to daven Shabbat Hagadol, at the behest of young Eric Moses, Cantor of Beth Sholom on Eglington street, a wonderful old congregation known for it’s love of Hazzanut. Eric is a handsome, affable, smart, and talented Chazz’n with a sweet tenor, excellent Cantorial “chops,” and most important: PERSONALITY! I mention that, for without that crucial component, a young Cantor is entering a world of pain, and deep “kaka.”
But I digress….

Thursday night rehearsal with the 12 voice professional choir arrives, and I’m introduced to the choral director, a stern looking fellow with one permanently raised eyebrow, named Bram. Now, i don’t know how many Bram’s you’ve met in your life, but in my experience, they tend to be a bit tight in the pants. Luckily, after one self depreciating joke, my Bram laughed, and was quickly on my side. He turned out to be a fine musician, with a feel for the improvisatory nature of my Hazzanic delivery. We sailed through the classic, and home spun melodies that I had prepared, and buoyed by the successful rehearsal, I slept like a baby anticipating the coming Shabbat.

Friday evening at 445, Eric and I rehearsed with a 4 piece band for a 6 pm FRIDAY NIGHT LIVE service attended by mostly young families with kids. During Kabbalat Shabbat we all swung with Carlebach, Zim, and Friedman tunes, to the delight of the 200 congregants assembled. The instruments were quickly put away, and I davenned a swift but tuneful Maariv, leading to a hearty chametzdic dinner. With a huge bump in my stomach, sleep didn’t come as easily Friday night. Tired of waiting for desert, I just HAD to have that extra crunchy roll, that looked so lonely in the basket. (Will I ever learn?)

Up at 6 with 2 hours sleep, (not a problem, I’m rarin’ ta go) I vocalize till my voice is like buttah, and brave the Canadian cold to walk to Shul. On goes my black gown and Mitre. (my mother must be kvelling somewhere) The early psalms begin at 845, led by a young ritual director with a natural Cantorial kvetch. I shake his hand, give him a Y K, (yasher koach) and begin. My first musical cadence is met by the old familiar sound of my youth.
Bumblebees.
The daveners rumbling their response to the prayer.
Ambrosia.
I thought all that ended in the ’70’s… There must be a Jewish time warp in Canada. Engrossed in the davenning, I found myself going sharp as the shacharit enfolded, and by mid point I was in f minor, an unheard of key for me. It was as if my mother Tibby was pulling the strings. She always wanted me to be a high tenor. ( I remember her adenoidal voice yelling: “WHY CAN’T YA SING LIKE KOUSSEVITSKYYYYYY JACKIEEEEEEE!) The pro choir joined me for the Torah Service, and we sang Sulzer and Dunajewsky the way it was meant to be sung. Of all things, I actually held the Torah during the Sh’ma! (almost never happens at home) While walking around the shul during the HAKAFAH, I was singing the old wedding tune “Vimaleh” when I heard a woman’s voice imitating me an octave higher. I bump in to Simon Spiro, singing in falsetto! He, Beny Maissner, and Tommy Schwartz, all wonderful colleagues, took off shabbes to come hear and razz me!

They start reading the torah,and Eric grabs me, pulls me into a room, and I see a dozen or so SHTARKE guys, sitting around a table set with chicken fingers,kugel, and Kishke! Not to mention gallons of single malt… Simon assumes the role of MC, and proposes a blue word riddled toast to me. I respond in kind, and the feast begins… This, I find out is the “Beth Sholom Kiddush Club.” A dues paying group of manly Chazzonis lovers, who sit around the table fressing every week. I LOVE it! Time to put back the Torah. Eric and I sing a duet version of the Rumshinsky Baavur Dovid, (by now, I’m singing in Ashkenaz) which Eric ends with a gorgeous falsetto Chadesh Yomenu K’kedem. My musaf is like being in a sandbox. I sing Secunda, Koussevitzky, (Moshe and Jacob) Schlossberg, Dunajewsky, and Nadel, until the congregation is ready to cry “Uncle!” WHATASHABBESS!!!

In the ’50’s there was a TV show called: “Queen for a Day,” where they would find a young trailer park woman with missing teeth, down on her luck, and would crown her: “Queen for a Day,” giving her a scepter, crown, white gown, and presents, such as a dishwasher, washer dryer, etc. Well, I was “CANTOR FOR A DAY” In Eretz Toronto!

Hail Canada.