The great Amurrican composer, Scott Joplin, wrote at the top of all of the manuscripts for his piano pieces, the words "Not Too Fast." Atop his later pieces can be found the words "Never Too Fast," implying that his earlier instructions were most likely disregarded.

As a regular attendee at the first (0620 ET) minyan at 770, I understand his frustration.

But let's not pick on just the guys at 770.

I have davened at shuls from the Bronx to Brooklyn, downstate, upstate, and Jersey's no better:

East Coast Jews Daven Too Fast!!!

Back home, we davened too fast, but it was nothing like here. I remember the time R' Rice (ChaBaD of Marin, http://www.jewishlantern.org/) brought in a new assistant, fresh from 770, and then, by way of welcome, sent him up to lead Ma'ariv, which he did, at the pace to which he had become accustomed at 770. He was nearly drowned out by the collective gasp at the beginning, and, at the end, everyone raced to be the first to notify the young man that he's not in N'Yawk anymore and that we don't daven that fast in Marin County, California.

And I always thought our regular speed was a bit fast to be properly respectful of the moment.

The Talmud (Berachos) tells us that three things prolong a person's life and one of 'em is takin' your sweet time when you daven.

Consider this: You're in shul, there on the East wall is the Aron Kodesh, in which resides the Holy Sefer Torah, the closest one will get in this world at this time to being in the Very Physical Presence of the King of All Kings, the Blessed Master of All Worlds. And how should Jews treat this transcendent moment? Certainly Not as a Race To The Finish so that we can rush back to the mundane details of earthly life - or am I missing something again?

Certainly I understand at least as well as anyone the conflict between a religious observance based on the sun and a commercial world based on the clock. The stories I could tell about what I had to do (and put some certain friends through) in the summer to do those Saturday all-nighters on the radio . . .

When, however, I see some of the most egregious speed freaks hangin' out at the bagel shop a half-hour after a Shacharis that is rushed through like a batch of matzah, I start wondering what the point is and who might be missing it.

Back home, we have a notion we discuss a lot, called Being In The Moment. Sweet, eh? That's California. In shul, one can take it to the next level and Savor Being In The Moment, and probably should. We used to back home. It was nice. It was Shabbos.

It says more than once in every nusach, "Shiru . . . ," Sing.

One time, when Butch Robins was doing his season with Blue Lightning, we got a request; one of my vocals. "How fast do you want it?" he asked. "How fast can you pick it?" I asked the man who holds the World Land Speed Record for "Earl's Breakdown."

Big mistake.

But I learned an important lesson from the experience, which became an operating rule in Blue Lightning thereafter: If You're Pickin' It Too Fast to Sing, You're Pickin' It Too Fast.

Works in shul, too.

OK, during the week we're in golus, we have to concern ourselves with material matters, frequently under employers who have no concern or sympathy for religious observance. We do what we have to do.

But on Shabbos?!?!? What are we rushing to on Shabbos?!?!? Where are we going - to the ball game?!? This, of course, is why I voted with my feet some few seasons back to hang on Shabbos and Yom Tov with the Moroccans. They (and the other Sefardic shul I've been to) start early, take their time, and still wind up sitting down to Kiddush while the ChaBaD shul upstairs (yes, we stack 'em in Brooklyn) is still by Kriah - at full-tilt N'Yawk speed. There's some sort of Kabalistic witchy-twitchy goin' on there I still haven't figured out.

Of course, once Shabbos/Yom Tov is over, my beloved Moroccans become the most outrageous speed freaks of 'em all; but that's rather a quibble here.

* * * * *

Of course, all this is because of the golus. In the Days of Moshiach this sort of thing wouldn't be happening. Time and accomodations would be made for religious observance so that we wouldn't have to rush like fiends to get to the bagel shop before leaving for work.

So, gather the kids around the computer and teach 'em well to say it loud and say it proud:

Golus Sucks! Moshiach Now!!!

. . . and Never Too Fast!