Click on the image below to see this classic Yiddish film moment featuring Julie Andrews in Thoroughly Modern Millie?

Julie Andrews sings "Trinkt l'Chaim" in the 1967 musical Thoroughly Modern Millie, one of a number of selections for LA Jewish Symphony's upcoming concert, CINEMA JUDAICA.

The rich tradition of Jewish composers' contributions to film history is celebrated at CINEMA JUDAICA, a concert by the Los Angeles Jewish Symphony (LAJS) on Sunday, August 8, 2010, 7:30 pm, under the stars at the Ford Amphitheatre. 

The orchestra, lauded for its exploration of Jewish culture and led by Artistic Director Noreen Green, pays tribute to Jerry Goldsmith, Elmer Bernstein, Steven Schwartz, Danny Pelfrey, Charles Fox, Yuval Ron and other major composers with performances of their scores from memorable movies whose themes, resonating with Jewish heritage, are as significant today as when the films were made.

The Vortsman, meaning "man of his word," brings you the story of a different Yiddish word or phrase each month.

Written by Hershl Hartman, long-time Yiddishkayt Board Member and Education Director at the Sholem Community

So many inquiries this month! School must be out.

Shimon asks about the meaning and derivation of hakn a tshaynik or hak mir nit keyn tshaynik. Literal meaning, respectively: beating on, or don't beat at me on, a teakettle. Usage: to blather, obfuscate; don't hand me a verbose bill-of-goods. Origin? Take a metal spoon in your dominant hand, a teakettle in the other. Bang together. In Latin America, protest demonstrations against unheeding governments hakn a tshaynik. 

From Gerald comes a question about "ein mul in ayoivil" -  which should have been written as eyn (or ayn) mol (or mul) in a yoyvl (again, see down below). Our alternate renderings reflect varying Yiddish pronounciations. Gerald knows that it means "very infrequently (once in a blue moon)"  but asks about the meaning of  yoyvl and guesses, "It may have something to do with an agricultural hiatus, but not sure." He's close. The English word, jubilee, actually derives from the biblical Hebrew yoyvl (ya-veyl in the Israeli-Sefardic dialect). It's the year-long event, observed every 50 years, when land was to be restored to its former owners, fields were to lie fallow and slaves were to be freed. African-American culture refers to Emancipation as "jubilee." Interestingly, modern Yiddish completes the circle, using yubiley for a 50th or round-numbered anniversary.

And from Evelyn, a graduate of the I.L. Perets secular Yiddish school in Montreal, now a North Miami Beach resident, comes a query about the family name Soloveitchik (ya gotta see down below) or Soloveytshik, famous in rabbinic history. It comes from Russian and means "little nightingale." It's among the relatively few imposed family names  derived from Slavic terms, rather than Yiddish (see previous columns in the Yidbits archive online). Yosele Solovey, Joey the Nightingale, is the tragic hero of Sholem Aleykhem's (Sholom Aleichem's) so-named second novel.

We emphasized Evelyn's educational background because this year marks the centennial of secular Yiddish shuln - supplementary schools - begun Dec. 10, 1910 on New York's Lower East Side and which spread rapidly around the world. More to come about this yubiley in future columns.

FINALLY: The eminent New York Times, no less, provides the Vortsman with two grains for his grist mill. On June 28, it reviewed a restaurant in Little Italy (!) named Balabooste. As we chortled at the thought of lambasting the transliteration of baleboste - meticulous housewife, also: female boss - the good grey Times amazed and delighted us with an article (about mahjongg on Long Island - don't ask!) in which every Yiddish word was rendered in strict conformity to the YIVO Standard, which we follow and have mentioned here often. Our hat's off to Joseph Berger, who wrote:

"She and a friend, she said, 'do a mekhahye once a summer,' using a Yiddish word for a rapturous pleasure that is often chosen to express the joy of a swim on a sultry day...

"'It's so shvakh,' groaned Ms. Mingelgreen, 52, using the Yiddish word for weak, as she surveyed the tiles she drew."