by rabbi laurence rosenthal kids program and loitering in the hallway. Once my brother was old enough to drive, a whole new world of possibilities opened up for our High Holiday experience. At some point during the service (I am pretty sure services weren’t over), James and I would leave and go to Guitar Center, a local instrument retailer – we have them here in Atlanta as well. There, still dressed in our Shabbos best, we would wander around the store and just look. Never buying, just looking.
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he 1968 Fender Mustang guitar! When I think of the High Holidays I think of the 1968 Fender Mustang guitar. The Fender Mustang is part of the fender guitar series that brought us the more recognized Fender Stratocaster – the guitar made famous by Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, and Stevie Ray Vaughn, not to mention about another thousand artists from the 1950s up until today. The Fender Mustang was an off-shoot of the Stratocaster series. More of a rhythm guitar instrument than a solo guitar, the Mustang guitar was by no means as famous as its glorious older brother, the Strat. The only person of note for me that played a Fender Mustang was Kurt Cobain, from the 1990s Seattle Grunge-Rock band Nirvana. Otherwise, you really didn’t see or hear from the Mustang. By now in this article you must be thinking, why does Rabbi Rosenthal think of such obscure things when he is supposed to be thinking about holy matters embedded in the High Holidays experience? There are two answers: Firstly, you all should know by now that there is no telling where my mind will go at any given time. Anybody who has heard me speak knows that where my thought process is taking us is mystery to all….even me sometimes. The second, and more important, reason that I think of the 1968 Fender Mustang guitar whenever I think of the High Holidays is because it was on the High Holidays that I first met the classic, obscured electric instrument almost thirty years ago. So you need to know a bit of back story. Growing up, High Holiday services weren’t “high” on my family’s list of priorities. When I was young, our parents used to take us to services where my brother and I spent most of the time breaking out of the
7 • Beineinu • August | September
It was only recently, when thinking back, that I found this experience a bit absurd... and not because we were in a loud, rock and roll music store on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur when we should have been in services. Rather, what struck me as strange was that James doesn’t play an instrument. I was the one that played guitar and drums. Even more interesting, my brother had hobbies which would equally lend themselves to desecrating the High Holidays just like being at Guitar Center. My brother was a collector – photography equipment, baseball cards and comic books, pocket watches, and more. My brother had great interests which could have found ourselves in any number of stores around Los Angeles. But we didn’t go there, we went to Guitar Center and we looked at instruments. I found a cherry red Fender Mustang with a mother-of-pearl pickguard during one of our first years holding our ‘alternative service’ at Guitar Center. Upon graduating junior high school, my brother bought me that 1968 Fender Mustang. Over the years I never really made the connection or thought about the implications of this story but there is something really profound and spiritual about my teenage High Holiday pastime. Of course I can surmise as to what compelled my brother, a non-musician to
spend his High Holiday time with his little brother surrounded by loud, obnoxious electric guitars, drums and other rock and roll paraphernalia. However, my favorite answer came from James when, while I was writing this article, I texted him and asked. Here is what he said: “Because it made you happy, and I loved sharing that with you… You were my buddy, Larry. Despite our arguments and strife, we were each other’s best friend. I loved your enthusiasm for musical instruments despite me not being musically gifted." My brother didn’t take me to Guitar Center on a regular basis. This was our High Holiday tradition. Although this wouldn’t be my spiritual practice today, from where I sit, this connection, this open possibility of reconciliation, compassion and deep investment into the happiness of the other is absolutely a major theme of the High Holiday experience. In fact, I would say that it was a short time together at services (maybe the 45 minutes or an hour we spent in the pews) that somehow cracked open the barriers that we placed between each other all year and made this experience possible. For many of us, the High Holidays bring out a sense of obligation. We feel obligated by tradition; we feel obligated by family; and even the most observant of us feel a sense of obligation to God to celebrate these holidays together, in shul and as part of the community. But that sense can and should be explored deeper and with more nuances. For me, the High Holidays are about moving beyond myself and doing for others. Being present not just for what I get out of the experience but because it means something to somebody else. When I was a child, we showed up to service because my father wanted us there. My brother came to Guitar Center, because I was there. Today, I come to services on the High Holidays and other days because my community is there. Even God comes because we are all there together. The High Holidays are that one time a year where we have the option to let all the strife and arguments go and come together. It’s the one place where we are all “buddies.” Shannah Tova U’metukah – may 5778 be a year filled with compassion, connectivity and sweetness.