Shuey looked up. Sholom Wasser didn’t normally talk this way. Entailed? Given to understand? Was he in a courtroom?
On a snowy Thursday morning three weeks after Chanukah, the single was released with little fanfare. It was a week late, but that was normal, Shuey knew.
And the bochurim, the young men whose voices gave the song its energy and life, were oblivious, sitting and learning in the beis medrash.
That suited Shuey Portman just fine. He closed the door to his office, wished that his Dell computer had speakers, and then closed his eyes and listened to himself sing.
“Pretty good,” he whispered. “You still got it, Ports.”
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