Saturday, March 31, 2007

Thoughts on a Funeral

Most of David's friends from the Malibu group attended the service in Manhattan on Friday. There were a lot of tears but also a lot of laughter as family and friends remembered Rabbi David. He really touched a lot of people's lives and was a very special person. The burial, at Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn was very solemn, and David was laid to rest on a beautiful hill overlooking the cemetery with a great view of the Manhattan skyline. David was so many things; a rabbi, a teacher, a musicial, a writer, a science fiction fan and a gamer. Every one who attended shared their memories of David, and although he's gone physically, he's still with many, many people.

It got me thinking about my own life and how I'll be remembered. I ask myself if I have done enough to make the world a better place, to teach people, to illuminate people, to give others of my time and resources? Have I been the best person I could possibly be? Sadly, the answer is no. I have not done enough. Am I living the life I should? What if I were to die tomorrow? Who would attend my funeral? Would anyone even care to travel to it? The answer is, I don't know. I don't know if I have done anything to make the world a better place or to impact the lives of others.

I think I should do something of value with my life. I think I should be more outgoing, more giving, more generous. I want to be remembered. I want to have my life be worth something, to have meaning. Maybe this will be a goal for the remainder of the year. At times I feel like I'm just a non-entity, that I'm just a writer nobody will read. I think I'm too modest, too shy, too awkward. But this is me. This is who I am. Maybe I was never meant to be great, to be consumed with petty, nagging doubts, to just exist. Yet I don't think so. I think God put me on earth for a reason, for a higher purpose. I don't know what it is or when that moment will come. But I am sure it will all be good and it will all make sense.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

More Thoughts on David

I first met David Honigsberg at the Malibu Diner last April. When he introduced himself as "David, the rockin' rabbi," I knew I was in good company. For the past year I've read David's comments on the listserv with great interest. Living so far away, the listerv functioned as a family of really bright, funny, creative people. Last November, I saw David perform at a coffee house in Barrington, NJ. When he didn't show up on time, I worried. But sure enough, through the door comes David: lanky, in cowboy boots and lugging his guitar. He treated the crowd to some really great live music, including a rendition of the Austin Lounge Lizards' "Old Blevins" that was better than the original. His own work was a joy to listen to and after the show I bought his CD "The Pattern" and got his MySpace address and e-mail. I listened to his CD during a long ride home and was impressed and moved by the quality and depth of his work. He was a loving, caring person and someone you were glad came into your life. My only regret is I only wish I knew him better.
Tomorrow is the funeral. It will be in Brooklyn, and I'm going.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

David



David Honigsberg died today at age 48. He was a rabbi, a musician and a really nice guy. I met him a few times, once in New York City and once in a coffeehouse in Barrington, NJ where he played some really great music. I can't listen to his song "The Pattern" without losing it. He will be missed by many. Sympathies go out to his wife Alexandra.


"Now I am grown
But the fabric of my life is filled with tangled knots and scattered threads
Although it hurts to say it, everything is still a mess
But when I prayed to God, here's what He said

When I call you home
You will view the pattern
There's more to what I'm doing than what you can see
It'll come out right, pretty as a picture
All I'm gonna ask is that you put your trust in me"

-The Pattern
David Honigsberg

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Vampin'




Your Vampire Name Is...



Ignacio of the Orient