The Great Synagogue of Jerusalem

That is actually the official name of the synagogue where my nephew did his bar mitzvah, and I think that it says just about everything about it, including attitude. Magnificent, awe-inspiring, maintained to perfection, every little corner is polished and spic and span and the worshipers counts among themselves ambassadors, Broadway stars, titans of industry and a fair sprinkling of black hatters. Seemed more like I was in New York or London than Israel, very American-Ashkenaz and strict. Tried to whisper to my uncle a little but important thing and was immediately tsk-tsked from behind by one of the big pubahs there. They also didn't like giving up their front row seats to the bar mitzvah family, not too gracious if you ask me. On the ladies side it was even worse, one lady was sitting in the aisle seat alone and refused to let our party of women into the row. Made them walk all around. But what a choir and cantor, apparently the best in teh world. I don't even like cantorial music, but this man made me shiver. Overheard next to my: the pubah to my distant gun-toting cousin sitting next to me. (Translated) "It's as if his (the cantor's) prayers go directly to heaven." Apparently you are allowed to talk in that shul if you are packing heat.