Life is full of bitter disappointments, as I am sure most of your parents know well. But one has a choice, dear reader. One can choose to look for that ray of sunshine peeking out from behind the moon, or one can be a major sourpuss. Members of the once-in-a-lifetime Ramaz Rochester 2024 Eclipse Trip were faced with this decision when tragedy struck, rivaling that of star-crossed lovers. Most chose to be positive, but guess which path Dr. Ethan Rotenberg, beloved fashionista, dark-natured diva, and chemistry teacher, selected. (If you said ‘the bright side,’ then I assume that your parents belong to the aforementioned group accustomed to disappointments.) I, along with many other students, had an excellent time (thank you, Rabbi Blaustein, and all who helped make it happen), despite the misfortune we experienced.
Let me be the first one to say that the Eclipse Trip was certainly an emotional solar coaster. It began with a big bang as approximately 30 Ramaz students and faculty left the high school on a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon, April 7th. All were excited for the eclipse, but none were as eager and enthusiastic as Dr. Rotenberg. He believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this trip was going to be the best trip ever. The 6-7 hour bus ride was tedious, but I managed to keep myself entertained by talking to (read: annoying) Dr. Rotenberg and beating Jeremy Propp at trivia (not a joke, happened twice). We arrived at the shul, Mr. Goldberg gave a speech, and then we were all divided into groups to go home with our new Rochester parents. After an amazing night in my dream bedroom, we headed back to the shul for some breakfast, and then we were off to the Rochester Museum and Science Center for some fun eclipse festivities. I was deeply disappointed that ‘eclipse festivities’ was not code for ‘blood sacrifices to the moon goddess and other pagan rituals,’ but I quickly got over it.
When it was time to view the eclipse, the entire Ramaz group gathered around outside, along with the entire population of Rochester. Dr. Rotenberg, once astronomically thrilled, was anxiously waiting for the clouds to pass, wishing upon a star that the heavens would clear. Alas, dear reader, as the moon drew nearer and nearer to the sun, the gravity of the situation dawned upon him: we had driven 7 hours for an eclipse we would have seen better had we remained in NYC. Understandably, Dr. Rotenberg went supernova. The bus ride back to Ramaz was, understandably, less enjoyable. Doc turned into a raging lunartic. As a witness, I mooned over sharing this story, but I ultimately decided the world needs to know the tragedy that befell our beloved chemistry teacher. So, dear reader, cut Dr. Rotenberg some slack. He is still not over the trauma. It is extraordinarily evident if you speak to him. If he seems angry or upset to you, just take a moment, recall what this man has been through, and choose kindness. And if you think this is a weak excuse that I just pulled out of Uranus, your parents are disappointed in you, but at least you cannot disappoint Dr. Rotenberg any more than this trip did.
