Friendship Trumps Politics

I show up at 8:00 Saturday morning at Gleason's Gym.  The whole way on the subway, I am thinking about criticizing my student, the Judge, for his voting for Obama.  It's a reprehensible thing for a Jew to do.  And the Judge is a big Jew, one who travels to Israel and whose uncles were killed in the death camps. I am no Jew.  I mean, I am born that way and would defend my Judaism, but God hasn't found me, and I am alone in earth's paradise with no spiritual guide.  I do not go to temple, but I feel an obligation to protect the temple.  Obama is an enemy at the gates hiding behind the shield of shiny rhetoric. The Judge doesn't recognize the threat beneath Obama's palaver.  There were Jews who believed that the concentration camps were recreational havens. I go into my office and change into my boxing shorts.  The Judge shows up.  He has been my student for fifteen years.  He is a New York State judge.  He is a friend.  In the...(Read Full Article)

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