Orel Family

Sometime after 1pm today, the audio for the upcoming release of The Promise leaked out to the internet, ostensibly via a Sony Europe website. Within a couple hours, thousands of us had the mp3s on our computers, and it was seemingly the spring of 1978 all over again... with better technology. Back then, I'd be in Sunday school at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York with a couple friends of mine, and we'd be passing notes back and forth, with whatever tiny little rumor we had -- or could invent -- about when Bruce Springsteen's 4th album might finally see the light of day. It came, finally, via a midnight airing on WNEW-FM, and even then we knew that for every song on the album, there were more that did not get released. Some, like "Independence Day," we heard when Bruce played shows that were broadcast on the radio that fall. Others, such as "Because the Night" and "Fire," became hits for other artists. Some were released on The R...

Through the magic of bootlegging, I finally got a chance to watch the documentary "The Promise: The Making of Darkness on the Edge of Town" a couple nights ago. Then I watched it again Tuesday night, a little more carefully. It will be included, of course, as part of the Darkness On The Edge of Town box set next month. In some respects, this film is brilliant and indispensable. It presents a clear narrative -- albeit more than a bit repetitively -- that ultimately tells us, clearly, why Bruce went in the direction he did with Darkness, why it was important for him to make the album in that way, and what it ultimately meant both for that record and for his career since that record. Darkness is presented as the pivot for the past 30 years, and though that would hardly be news to long time fans, the clarity of its place here is still striking. For the most part, the film is presented as a reasonably straight-forward timeline. The first 20 minutes deal with Bruce's l...

She may just be in it for the golden dollars under the pillow, but creativity is what it is. Looking for responses from Toadstool Cottage! (and a spelling coach) 2 Toadstool Cottage Fairyland June 26, 2010 Dear Fairy, I'm Elianna Orel. I have not ever talked to a fairy before and I don't know any fairy names, I just hope my letter gets to a fairy! A long time ago my brother said there was no such thing as fairies and I almost stopped believing but before I stop believing completely I want to know the truth. So I wrote this letter. If I get a letter back I will believe in fairies, if I don't get a letter back I won't believe in fairies. But if it is in my mom or dad's handwriting I might stop believing in fairies. If a fairy gets this letter then I have a few questions to ask you: 1) What is it like being a fairy? 2) Is it hard to be a fairy? 3) does every fairy have a job at one point? 3) What is your name? 4) How old are you? 5) Do you get letters from...

I have a friend named Monty. He's a few months older than me, and he's dead. Not to be morbid, or anything like that, I just think Monty would appreciate putting that right out there first, a statement of basic fact. Today is June 13th. Today is Monty's 49th birthday and I'm going to write about Monty's life. Or, at least, a few small part of it. Monty had a lot of life. I first "met" Monty Smith sometime in the late '80s or early '90s. I'm not really sure. We had both found something on what was then known as the "arpanet list of lists" called "Backstreets." In the late '80s, email mailing lists were still a bit exotic, so much so that there was actually a publication listing them all. "Backstreets" was a small list for fans of Bruce Springsteen, and we, plus a few other geeky die-hards, also found it. Over time, it became apparent that, whatever energy anybody else on the list had, Monty matched ...

Monday night marked the beginning of Passover, the celebration of the liberation of the ancient Hebrews from slavery. As has been the custom in Judaism for many centuries, we marked the first night of the holiday with a family seder . Over to the in-laws house we went, and also our cousins, to mark the occasion, drink our wine, eat brisket and matzoh ball soup and gefilte fish, search for lost matzoh, and occasionally be very silly. We concluded that ancient Egypt must have been a very smelly place during the plagues; after all, the people couldn't bath in a river of blood and after the boils it was too painful for them even to change clothes. The haggadah said so. But why Monday night was different than all other nights couldn't be found in the maggid ; it wasn't even a Passover story, particularly. That part started when we came home. I came home first, with the kids. At the top of the road, I saw a small car just sitting in the street; I expected it to turn on t...

This blog is now located at http://mattorel.blogspot.com/. You will be automatically redirected in 30 seconds, or you may click here . For feed subscribers, please update your feed subscriptions to http://mattorel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default.

Cider pressing, that is. The season starts as the summer descends in to its 2nd half. The days are still hot, and tart juice explodes from the transparents on the early tree. Pressings must start late, else the wasps may make things impossible. In the heat, the juice cannot be allowed to sit too long. The kids help, sometimes friends or cousins or neighbors (that's Cousin Elise with Aaron and Elianna in the picture, from a pressing in early October). At the 2nd half of summer extends, the evening pressing is punctuated by the song of thousands of crickets. The first of the crickets make their presence known at the beginning of August, and by September the evenings are full force concerts. That ends, finally, with the first frosts in October. The juice is light, sweet and crisp. It is safe now to let the juice drip for several hours, to maximize the yield. Then, autumn. The leaves fall, and even when crushing apples a jacket is necessary. I start taking inventory o...