"Fey. Don’t you know it’s rude to bother an old man when he doesn’t want to be bothered? Name’s Aryeh Feldman, and how did I end up here? What is this mishegoss? I don’t know where I am! Did you bring me here? Don’t make me use my cane on your tuches!
What? WHAT? You want to hear more about me? Well, why not? I’m going to die soon anyway, why not tell it all to a young person before I kick the bucket? My name is Aryeh Feldman. Huh? I said that already? Did I tell you I was born in Germany in the 30’s and fled to London in the 40’s when my parents were taken to a concentration camp? No, I didn’t tell you, because you DIDN’T ASK! Honestly, kids these days have no respect for their elders. I was raised by my older brother Chaim and I wanted to be a musician, but he wouldn’t allow that. So I did the second worst thing a Jewish boy of 18 could do. I married a goy opera singer. Maybe you heard of her? Adrienne Feldman. She was my life and we had three children, who don’t talk to me, because they, like you, have no respect for their elders. I was an opera critic for most of my life, but I never used my real name. Why would I want people coming to me to complain? Anyway, I’ll be here feeding the ducks if you want to ask me more questions. But if you come back at all, do it soon. I could be dead tomorrow.”
Aryeh… The quintessential grumpy old man. I loved writing him. He had a beautiful father-daughter relationship with the wayward and outrageous (in a positive way!) Madeleine and it was glorious because he hated everyone else (he even hated Madeleine for a while at first!). Writing such an experienced and jaded person was the best! His FC was either Eli Wallach (may he rest in peace!) or Arthur Miller (may he also rest in peace!), depending on decade.