- He hated the "penny arcade" and complained it was a waste of money . . . but he nontheless drove me to the one on Bay Parkway whenever I wanted to go and he even gave me money (of course quarters, not pennies). I originally thought of this post a few months ago when David was begging me for quarters to play those darn games. My grandfather let me, how could I not let him.
- He hated that I demanded something more expensive than "a pack of gum" in exchange for returning the afikoman . . . but he always relented after much negotiation. (That's how I got my first ten-speed and the Meam Loez.)
- He hated that I looked like a "hobo" (dress and grooming) . . . but I was always welcome this way in his home or when I tagged along with him on social outings with his friends. Not even a peep when I would show up that way in his shul on shabbos.
- He really hated the "noise" (i.e., music) I listened to . . . but after much cajoling he would always let me choose the radio station in the car (but not too loud).
- He hated professional (WWF) wrestling because it was "phony" . . . but when he walked in on me watching it in his bedroom one afternoon he didn't make me change the channel.
- He really, really hated when I sat on my knees, which I often did, even at the table. With this, however, he never ever exhibited any weakness. It was never tolerated. I finally decided to publish this post because I was reminded of it last week when I told David the story of how Dovid Hamelech chose his soldiers. (They lay flat on their bellies when drinking from the stream rather than kneel beside it on their knees.) Then I told David about how my grandfather would always yell at me to get off my knees.
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