Yiddishe Cup’s bandleader, Bert Stratton, is Klezmer Guy.

He knows about the band biz and – check this out – the real estate biz, too.

You may not care about the real estate biz. Hey, you may not care about the band biz. (See you.)

This is a blog with a gamy twist. It features tenants with snakes and skunks, and musicians with smoked fish in their pockets.

Stratton has written op-eds for the Wall Street Journal, New York Times and Washington Post.

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FAMOUS PEOPLE GONE?

by Bert Stratton

The band rarely plays for famous people. There is nobody famous around here unless you count Harvey Pekar, the comic book guy. Take that back . . . LeBron James.

Once we played for the president of Tulane University. At another bar mitzvah, Flory Jagoda, the queen of Sephardic music, was there. At another simcha (celebration), we ran into Max Herman, a trumpeter who used to play with Mickey Katz in Los Angeles.

Nobody has heard of these people. That’s the Rust Belt. We’re OK with it. What’s our option? Move to Florida?

We like it here.

At private parties, we’re asked if we travel. Will we come to Minneapolis? Yes, pay us 7 grand and we’re there. These folks never come through; they’re just caught up in the excitement of the party. Well, one time we missed a for-real gig. That was from the frozen chicken king of California. A Mr. Zacky. He saw us at a wedding in Akron and asked us to play his wedding in L.A. Too bad we were already booked.

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Tomorrow:

LARGE NUMBERS . . . How to beat the Dow Jones. Gamble.

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