Like many educational institutions, since the pandemic began, our Yeshiva, Heichal HaTorah, has been having shiurim and classes on Zoom. While it unquestionably has its challenges and deficiencies, there are two things I love about teaching on Zoom: the mute and the commute. The commute from the kitchen to my downstairs office is economically friendly and saves a lot on gas. In addition, in the classroom, I periodically have to contend with a student who interrupts the shiur, or a brief conversation may ensue between a couple of students despite my protestations. These days, such challenges no longer exist. As the host of my class conferences, with one click of a button I can mute all, and peacefully continue giving my shiur. Sometimes, after muting everyone, I can see a student who is still talking animatedly. But now it no longer disturbs the class, and I can gleefully proceed.

A number of years ago, during the week after Pesach ended, I was doing some pre-Shabbos shopping with our then-eight-year-old son Shalom. While we were driving to the store, we were listening to the weather report, which called for a chance of severe storms, including hail. Shalom became very concerned and began asking me a whole bunch of questions about when and how the hail would fall.

Be strong all ye loyal, despondent baseball fans! All hope is not lost for the beleaguered 2020 baseball season.

While Major League Baseball is still on hold indefinitely, halfway across the world the sounds of whizzing baseballs and the crack of the bat can be heard.

We have been correctly accused of being a generation that doesn’t take the time to stop and smell the flowers. The current challenging time of social distancing has compelled us to slow down, and has granted us the opportunity to stop and smell the flowers. Most years, we may not have much time to appreciate the majestic beauty of this time of year – of resurgence of life with budding leaves, stunning colors on trees coming back to life, and brighter sunshine.

A long time ago – or at least what feels like a long time ago – it was actually on a Friday morning a month BCE (Before Coronavirus Exploded), I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get a soon-to-be-required Enhanced License. The lines at the DMV can be long, so I made sure to be there when they opened at 8:30 am. When I walked in at 8:32, the large room was mostly full, and there was already a long line, constantly growing. I was given a little slip of paper with a few random numbers and told to have a seat and wait until my number was called.