Trump Costing Jewish Comedy Writers Thousands of Jobs

Donald Trump has claimed emphatically that he is “the least anti-Semitic person you’ve ever seen in your entire life.”

Yet Trump has now been unmistakably identified by all 17 United States Intelligence agencies as the direct cause of the loss of thousands of jobs held by Jews throughout the United States and the world.

Since Trump’s election, talk show hosts and stand-up comics have directed their mirth-making attention towards the President because the jokes practically write themselves.  And with the emergence of self-writing jokes, Jewish comedy writers have become obsolete and are now being fired by the tens of thousands.

Jews working for The Late Show Starring Steven Colbert, Late Night with Seth Meyers, The Daily Show, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and Full Frontal with Samantha Bee have all been sacked.  (No writers have lost jobs with The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon because the show sucks and had employed no Jews.) Judd Apatow, Woody Allen, and Mel Brooks have all filed for bankruptcy and Larry David has gone into hiding to escape irate creditors

And what does President Trump have to say about all this misery and strife being visited upon the Jewish people? Today Trump tweeted:

The "intelligence" services and Fake News have said I caused all these problems, but as usual they lied.  It wasn't me.  It was ....

The Jews!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My thanks to Samantha Bee, whose original line "Jokes don't write themselves. Jokes are written by Jews" inspired this post.

The Least Anti-Semitic Person You've Ever Seen

I was watching Donald Trump’s impromptu press conference last week, and I heard a young Orthodox reporter ask the President a question about anti-Semitism.

"Number one,” replied Mr. Trump, ”I am the least anti-Semitic person you've ever seen in your entire life.”

How about that? Mr. Trump is the least anti-Semitic person I’ve ever seen in my entire life!   I never knew that.   

But wait a minute.  That must mean everybody else I‘ve ever seen in my entire life is anti-Semitic!  At least somewhat.   

I came downstairs to the kitchen and my son Brandon was sitting at the table.

“Just what anti-Semitic schemes are you busily hatching, kid?” I snarled.

“What are you talking about, Dad?” 

“I never realized you disliked Jews, Brandon.  What have the Chosen People ever done to you?"

“What are you saying? I’m Jewish just like you.”

“Well, you may be Jewish, but you’re not as not anti-Semitic as President Trump.  President Trump is the least anti-Semitic person I’ve ever seen in my entire life."  

“Dad, you’re crazy.”

“No wonder you always get three out of the Four Questions wrong every Passover," I snapped, and stormed out of the house. 

But as soon as I got outside I noticed something I never realized before.

Everywhere I looked there were people who were not less anti-Semitic than Donald Trump! My neighbor Mr. Lieberman, the lady down the street Mrs. Schwartz, young Danny Feldman on his way to school, the Reisman’s dog Hymie ---- virulent Jew haters all!

Now I was truly terrified.  I drove directly to the synagogue, I desperately needed to see Rabbi Debbie King.

“Rabbi King!   Rabbi King!” I shouted running into the Temple Building.

She heard me and came out of her office.

“Yes, is that you, Perry Block?”

 “Yes, it is, Rabbi.”

“How can I help you, Perry?”

“Rabbi, everywhere I look I see ….

“Yes?”

“Everywhere I look I see ….

“Yes?”

“Why, Rabbi King, you anti-Semitic bastard you!”

The world is and has always been a perilous place for us Jews. Thank goodness for Donald Trump, the least anti-Semitic person I’ve ever seen in my entire life!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Just Can't Make Up My Mind Whether or Not to Do a Sex Tape

Say Hello to My Co-Stars

I just can't make up my mind whether or not to do a Sex Tape.

I've thought about it and thought about it, but I just haven't been able to decide. Both Tina and Jocelyn have been bugging me about it for weeks now, but I'm still not sure.

True, the sex among the three of us is nothing less than epic, and I guess it might be cool to demonstrate how a man my age can fully satisfy two smokin' hot twenty somethings. But are there really that many people around who would want to sit down and watch a full length video depicting an incessant swirl of sensual young female bodies writhing and convulsing in paroxysms of joy while having every conceivable part of themselves pleasured? 

By me.

I dunno.

So I asked my Uncle Ned and Aunt Phyllis for some advice; they've never steered me wrong.  Uncle Ned helped me pick out my first two wheeler and even built my car for the Pinewood Derby, and Auntie was always there for me when I was being bullied in Junior High School.   

Well, Uncle Ned was less than enamored of the idea of the sex tape because he felt if I later turned pro a relatively primitive sex video could be damaging to my career. Aunt Phyllis, however, was very enthusiastic about the concept and couldn't wait to tell all her friends at the Rose and Hydrangea Society. She's Past President of the local chapter, you know.

My co-workers were rather evenly split between those who thought the tape might prove a valuable sexual technique training tool and those who felt making it would require time and effort better spent on other activities.  My boss pointed out that if I were looking to broaden my interests or make new friends it would be more productive to take night school classes or do some volunteer work rather than to have repeated steaming hot sex with two bosomy young women.

Food for thought.

Yesterday I asked my rabbi if she believed the sex tape would be good for the Jews.  She said that no doubt it would, but she also asked if the two girls were Jewish, and I had to tell her that Tina was a Unitarian.  After some reflection the Rabbi said that if Tina would commit to some measure of Jewish education, she would yet wholeheartedly endorse the video.   I'm sure that will be no problem.

Ha, if I know Rabbi Debbie, Tina will be a real Yeshiva Bocher even before our next three-way!

But I'm still not certain. Call me old-fashioned, but for me a proper sex tape ought to feature at least one "C" List celebrity, orgasms in multiple languages, and no shortage of threshing equipment.  We are deficient in two out of the three essential categories.

Do you guys have any thoughts on this?  Would you want to watch two gorgeous girls with huge breasts in the throes of heated sexual passion for hours on end, or would you rather go to the Mall? What if we recruit David Hasselhoff to join us?

Or do you think he's less than a "C- Lister" anymore? 

Help me, folks!

Decisions, Decisions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Return of the LOJM

The  LOJM? 

         

Of all the fearsome creatures that walk the Earth, none is more terrifying than the legendary beast known as the LOJM! (pronounced LOW-JIM) 

For the uninitiated - as well as the un-Jewish - the LOJM, also known as the "Little Old Jewish Man," is the monster that stalks Jewish males of a certain age. It's evil mission: to convince youthful good-looking sexually dynamic Jewish men that they incredibly appear 60 years old or more!  

And to my eternal damnation, I am one of its victims!

Although no one has ever seen the LOJM, it is theorized it looks like a cross between actor Mickey Rourke, the guy at the synagogue who probably knew Moses, and Nosferatu on a bad hair day. Whenever its victim looks in the mirror or has a picture taken, the LOJM leaps at blinding speed in front of the poor victim and completely obscures his handsome young face, replacing it with its hideous own!

And this is exactly what happens to me.  Whenever I try to get a picture taken, my naturally boyish grin, sultry sensuous features, and smoldering sexuality are nowhere to be seen.  In their place is the vile visage of the LOJM!

And even after completing this foul deception, the LOJM is still not finished. Somehow the creature has found a way, perhaps through mass hypnosis , to convince others that the picture actually looks just like the victim instead of like the grotesque distortion that it is!

Beware the LOJM!

All of this is of special concern to me because on September 12 I will be having a birthday. I will be 35 years old, the age I always am and ever will be. Someone will want to take a picture, however, and the LOJM will make sure to ruin it all!

Last year I had a unique idea. It seemed to me that the best way to fight one legendary Jewish creature was with another, so I called on the Golem of Prague. The Golem is a mighty giant constructed out of clay to protect the Jewish people in historical times of trouble, such as when gentiles would seek to force us to eat Jimmy Dean Pork Sausages. Not only would the Golem pound them into guacamole dip, but being a Reform Golem he would also eat up all the pork sausages.

"I cannot help you, Perry," said the Golem. "But next time you're being drawn and quartered by rabid mobs of anti-Semites, ring me up."

"But this is the LOJM, damn it!"

"Now that you mention it," muttered the Golem, "I haven't had a decent woodcut made since the turn of the 17th Century."

And so I convinced the Golem to show up at my small birthday celebration. The stage was now set:  one legendary Jew v. another, neither of which was a lawyer or in show business.  It was probably a first.

At the appointed moment, my son Brandon took the picture.

"Say no cheese," he  pronounced, taking into account my life-long food aversion.

At once the Golem leaped high in the air as if to swat the LOJM to the ground, banged his head on the ceiling, and dropped onto the floor.

"Did you see him?" I shouted. "Did you get him?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure I'm hemorrhaging Play-Doh."

The Golem and I now crowded around the picture. 

"Y'know, Perry, it does look just like you! Especially the dark circles, bulbous nose, and the comb over hair."

"Some defender of the Jews you are, Golem!"  I cried.

And the Golem was gone.

Hope he's more effective combating blood libel.

So how about you, Jewish men of a certain age?  Before you know it, it will be your 35th Birthday too (and again), just as it is about to be mine.  And the LOJM will be there, of that you can be assured.  The LOJM will always be there.

Be ready. Be prepared.

Beware the LOJM!

And don't expect much help from the Golem.  Unless you've brought Jimmy Dean Pork Sausages. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supermarket Sweep

Wanna speed through the supermarket?  
Follow these free and easy tips! 

I've never been the sort of person who likes to go shopping, whether it's shopping for clothes, home furnishings, or electronic power tools, were I ever to actually shop for electronic power tools. But there's one kind of shopping that I actually sort of like.

That one kind of shopping? Food shopping, of course.

Why? Because I like to eat!  And you can't eat a necktie, sleeper sofa, or band saw, were I ever to actually shop for electronic power tools and purchase a band saw.

I have even scoped out some of the secrets of successful food shopping over the years which I'm pleased to share with you now:   

1) The Cardinal Rule: Never go food shopping when you're hungry unless you want to come home with enough fruits and vegetables to feed the Philadelphia Zoo for a week and/or a package of Mallomars in the economical and convenient Entire Neighborhood Size. 

2) To avoid this,  I generally purchase a bagel before I begin shopping  and eat it while I am going through the store. Frequently store personnel think I have stolen the bagel, and I am often savagely beaten behind the meat counter by a bunch of guys wearing name tags which say "Hi!  My name is Chuck." Aside from the occasional broken rib, however, I do save a buck or two on eats. 

3) Selecting the proper shopping cart can be high art.  Make sure you don't choose one with rickety or wobbly wheels or by the time you reach the checkout counter you'll be vibrating like the tiny membranes posited to exist in string theory. Also don't pick a shopping cart with the kiddie car in front unless you actually plan on riding in it. 

4) When in doubt about anything, ask a friendly member of the supermarket staff. They can always be found almost anywhere ... that's funny, I saw one  of them a second ago.   I'll bet someone's in nearby aisle 4  ... no, not here.  I'll try Aisle 14.

5) A word on milk:  I remember the days when there was only one kind of milk - fresh whole milk.  Now there is whole milk, 2% milk, 1% milk, skim milk, lactose-free milk, milk mustache-free milk, and milk with tiny colored pieces of construction paper. Which should you buy? The only one that has ever been important - chocolate milk!

6) Many products are labeled "Better if used before January 13."  Were you to eat Cheerios on January 14, you would say to yourself " y'know, this isn't bad ... but yesterday it was better."

7) Some products are labeled  "Must Sell by January 13!"  Were you to eat a sirloin steak on January 14, you would say to yourself "y'know, this isn't bad ... but yesterday I was alive."

8) A word on bananas:  unless your house is immediately adjacent to Customer Service, a banana will fully ripen, become spotted and squishy, and be primed for the garbage disposal just as you arrive home.  Only buy bananas that are so incredibly green that if you were shopping with Superman, they would kill him.

9) This is odd. I saw two or three store employees right here in Aisle 14 a minute ago. Where could they be?  Okay, lemme try frozen foods....

10) Buying the store brand can save you money and often the quality is just as good as that of the name brand. You're paying for packaging and advertising when you buy the name brand and in some rare instances, the guarantee that nobody has spit in it.

11) Supermarkets have a tendency to put more popular products at eye level and less popular products on upper shelves. They don't expect many people to want to purchase the products on the higher shelves anyway.  The other day I was looking to purchase a heart-lung machine, and just my luck, nobody tall was around!  

12) Beware of cross-selling strategies. Take a stroll down the Mexican food aisle, and just beyond you find Nexium, Tums, and enough heartburn meds to turn your esophagus into a quivering street junkie. What do we find at the end of the ice cream aisle?  Diet aides. End of the Kosher food aisle? Greeting cards worded "Sorry I haven't written," "Sorry I missed your son's Bar Mitzvah," and "Sorry I swindled you out of our mutual business."  Yep. Selling Guilt.

13) Then there's the ages old controversy:  Should you feel free to look through Us Magazine and the National Enquirer while waiting in the check out line without ultimately purchasing them?  I dunno, but why on earth are you looking through Us Magazine and the National Enquire?  You know what?  I hope the cashier does yell at you! 

14) Hello, hello is anybody here?!!  I need help selecting pimentos, for God's sake!! Where is everybody?! Damn!!! That's supermarket clerks for you; they're just like cops.  

Never around when you need one.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Note:  I don't really feel that way. Most supermarket employees are great! Especially the ones I'm going to need desperately when I'm food shopping later today.

April Foolsover

In a highly unusual year of the Hebrew calendar that has seen Hanukkah fall at the same time as Thanksgiving and a new word "Thanksgivukkah" created, there falls now yet another bizarre confluence of holidays.   Passover begins tonight with the first Seder of the holiday taking place at sundown.

For the first time in six centuries, the initial night of Passover 2014 - the annual retelling of the Hebrews' freedom from bondage in Egypt - falls as one with April Fool's Day.

"Isn't that awesome?!" said Orthodox Rabbi Perry Ben Vereen, head of the prestigious synagogue Temple Beth Ostrosky in Havertown PA. "Passover is one of our most important holidays, but it's almost impossible not to want to screw with it at a time like this!"

Rabbi Ben Vereen says he has a number of "tricks up his sleeve" for this evening, including substituting a large French Bread for matzoh, hiding a rubber chicken for children to find instead of the traditional afikomen, and of course placing whoopie cushions on the seats of all the Seder guests, including Mrs. Ben Vereen.

Many ideas for April Foolsover pranks can be found on the website JewFool 2014, including a host of suggestions for making it appear Elijah the Prophet really has shown up at your house, guzzled the wine left for him, and groped several of the guests.  

"This year," laughed Rabbi Ben Vereen, "I'm going to provide the Traditional Four Questions with multiple choice answers and make at least two of the three wrong answers zany!  I'm going to pad out the original ten plagues like water turning to blood,  boils, and death of the first born with new ones like watching Tracy Morgan's stand-up and having to give an enema to Ted Nugent. 

"And finally," Rabbi Ben Vereen added, "I'm going to announce I'm leaving Mrs. Ben Vereen for a blonde shikseh!"

Better have fun tonight, Seder goers, because Passover and April Fool's Day won't fall together again until 2223.  

 April Fool!  

It's actually next year.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here Comes Thanksukkah/Hanusgiving!

As most of you now know, this year through some bizarre confluence of the Hebrew Calendar with the Western Gregorian Calendar, many people are looking up the word "confluence." Additionally for the first time since 1888,  the usually close-to-a-month apart holidays of Hanukkah and Thanksgiving will strikingly coincide.

This unique situation presents a singular opportunity for two traditional underdog holidays both regularly overshadowed by Christmas to team up and take on the champ. Think of it as Rocky times two vs. Apollo Creed.  And together as one, Thanksukkah/Hanusgiving* have more than enough seasonal goods to give Christmas a run for its over commercialized money.

There's 12 collective days of holiday if we count Thanksgiving as four, great food, presents for the kids, interesting backstories, spinning dreidels, shoes with adorable buckles, Hannukah Gelt, lots of pie, and a common and well resonating message of religious freedom and tolerance.   The only drawbacks are the six or more days of leftover turkey forced feedings associated with Thanksgiving and Hannukah Gelt itself, which tastes only marginally better than the gold wrapping in which it comes.

Interestingly enough, there have been at least five other relatively recent instances in which  two usually widely time-disparate holidays have managed to coincide:

1)  Christmas and the Fourth of July.  Of course many of you aren't old enough to remember when Christmas and the Fourth of July fell together on the same date for the first time in 56 years in 1974.  It was a banner year for the City of Philadelphia as pilgrims worldwide converged on the Quaker City and led light stick processions to Independence Hall, many of them wearing small replicas of the Liberty Bell around their necks.  The Pope that year held a special Christmas Eve Mass in which he mentioned all four Philadelphia sports teams by name.

It seemed in 1974 that there were carolers on every street corner favoring seasonal fireworks shoppers with old favorites like "Rudolph, the Red, White, and Blue Nosed Reindeer," and '74 was the year that Santa Claus and Uncle Sam --- long suspected to be one and the same --- were finally outed when Uncle Sam  forgot to tightly fasten his 490 pound fat suit before diving down the chimney of one Ralph Merkle of Jersey City NJ, as captured in the now mega-familiar photo at right.

2) Mardi Gras and Labor Day. When these two holidays fell as one in 1952, Labor Day with its ever depressing augury of the end of summer knocked Mardi Gras for a loop from which it almost never recovered.  Jazz bands remained unbooked, drunk and disorderly arrests were down sharply nationwide, and many people reluctantly went out to buy notebooks for the new school year.  In New Orleans, the bars were closed.

 3) Memorial Day and New Year's Day.  These two holidays have already coincided three times in this century alone but it being that both holidays fell the day after New Year's Eve, no one ever noticed.

4) Groundhog's Day and Valentine's Day. The unusual confluence of these two holidays in February 1911 proved a bitter pill for their two putative iconic symbols, Puxatawney Phil and Cupid, rumored to hate each other almost as much as Adam Sandler hates being funny. Tirelessly working the small town of Puxatawney for 24 hours in 11 degree weather in an effort to show up his laconic rival, Cupid had to be treated for severe hypothermia and partial loss of a wing after producing only a handful of engagements and one lukewarm seduction while Phil for his part saw his shadow and promptly received over 7,000 proposals of marriage.

5) Simchat Torah and Shavuos.  Simchat Torah normally takes place in the early fall and Shavuos takes place in late spring.  Unfortunately no Jewish person other than the most extreme among the Orthodox knows enough about them to write a halfway decent joke here.

So will Thanksukkah/Hanusgiving come out swinging this year and finally deck the holiday that "decks the halls?"  I dunno.

We'll have to see what Santa has up his sleeve. 

 Or Uncle Sam in his fat suit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*aka Thanksgivukkah  (I actually wrote this piece before I heard that term.)

This piece also appeared in the Broad Street Review on November 6, 2013.  They went with my original title even though they knew better.
 

The Seagulls

It was just one of those days.  I was walking by the bay and there she was:   young, pretty, and absorbed in her sketch book, rendering the seagulls as they splashed and stretched near the shore.

"The seagulls are graceful whatever they do," I said, hoping for a response.

"Oh, yes," she replied, "they're positively enchanting!"'

"Enchanting,” I repeated, quite encouraged.

“I love them so much, and I’m so happy to meet you!”

Still got it, I thought!  

 "How long have you loved the seagulls?"

"Why, all my life!  They're my grandparents."

"Your grandparents?!"

"Yes, Herbert and Elsie Siegel. I just assumed you were one of Grampy's oldest and dearest friends."

Know what?  I hate seagulls. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I hate seagulls so much I wrapped up this contribution to the Friday Fictioneers in a very respectable 117 words.  If I had gotten anywhere with Grampy's granddaughter, I'd probably have had me a book.

It's a good thing I didn't talk with her about the beauty of seagulls in flight because she'd probably have thought I was talking about  Herbert and Elsie's frequent trips to their condo in Boca.  Anyway, for more cogent and less depressing takes on the Siegels --- I mean, on the seagulls ---  click here and take wing with the other fictioneers!

Well, I'm off to dinner with the Siegels.  Who knows?  Maybe Elsie has a younger sister.

Happy Birthday, Planet Earth

"Happy Birthday to you,  You have millions of zoos ...."

This year, by some quirk of the Hebrew Calendar, the Jewish New Year comes early and falls around the time of my birthday on September 12. Since the period of the New Year lasts from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur, this year September 5-14, and the New Year celebrates the anniversary of the Earth's creation (just go with it, folks),  in 2013 Planet Earth and I are celebrating our birthdays together!

That is, if you can call my birthday at this fakakta age anything to celebrate.

"Happy Birthday to us, Happy Birthday to us .... Hey, Planet Earth, Happy Birthday!

You're not going to wish it back to me? Oh, the awful singing. Sorry!

So you're 5774 years old now, Planet Earth? You don't look bad for your age. A few fissures here and there, you're losing some rain forest, you're a bit flabby in the Governor of New Jersey Department, but not too bad overall.  Definitely better than Joan Rivers.  Umm, aren't you going to repay the compliment? 

What's that? I look like crap for 63? Thank you very much! Y'know some people say you lie about your age, you're actually billions of years old.  Fuck me?!!!  That's not very nice, but what can you expect from a planet that houses ABBA!

Cheap shot?  Yeah, but you deserved it!

By the way, Welcome to Virgo, Planet Earth!  It's the lamest possible sign of the Zodiac for a guy.  Oh! You're a chick! I should have realized - Mother Earth. But Virgo the Virgin isn't such a great Zodiac sign for women either. Why? Because it implies you're .... But you're not, you're not!  I think Europe is especially fetching. Tell me, what kind of year did you have when you were just a kid at 5773?

I see. Middle East. Shootings. No gun regulation. Tornadoes. Hurricane Sandy. Tea Party. Ben Affleck as the new Batman. Jesus, you had almost as bad a year as I did!

So, how do you plan to celebrate your birthday? Having some people over? A couple of million? I'll have to bring out the folding chairs then. Who's coming? Mostly Jews? Why's that? Oh, because they buy into your age fetish.  Gee, guess you don't reminisce too much about the Pre-Cambrian Period when they're around!

Me? Gonna spend a quiet birthday writing.  How's my writing career going? Hey, nice of you to ask, Planet Earth!  Not bad, don't have a lot of fans, but I think I'm on my way to some kind of success. What's that? They'll solve global warming first?  Thanks, you spherical shithead, I hope you fry you ass off! 

After I'm dead of course." 

So I kid Planet Earth.  He's ... I mean she's ... been around for 4 or 5 billion years, or at least 5,000 or so if you're a Jew. Either way, she can take it.

Happy Birthday, Planet Earth!  Hope you have a Happy and Healthy Year!

For all our sakes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lone Bar Mitzvah Boy

I recently came across my old Bar Mitzvah record, the large red 78 RPM vinyl disc the cantor made expressly for me back in 1963 to help me prepare for my Bar Mitzvah.  It was stowed away in a box full of other 78 RPM records featuring the likes of  Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse, Cinderella, and  all the other favorites of  a childhood spent in the 1950s.

The crowning glory of the box, however, was neither bunny nor mouse but  my complete collection of Lone Ranger records. Together they told the entire saga of the Masked Man of the Plains starting with the origin story, He Becomes the Lone Ranger, to the finale, He and Tonto Retire to Play Golf,  or something like that.

My Bar Mitzvah record was also very special. First of all it was red, so it stood out boldly among the other black vinyl 78s that spun around the slender silver needle of the record player so rapidly you almost expected them to fly off into space! Secondly, and most importantly, the cantor referred to me throughout the entire record by my own name.

"Perry," he would intone, "this is your portion of the Bar Mitzvah service.  Practice it carefully!" 

"Perry," he would go on,"repeat after me:  BARCHU ET ADONAI HAM'VORACH ..."

"And now, Perry," he would counsel at record's end, "if you practice every day with the record you will do well at your Bar Mitzvah and honor yourself, your family, and the Jewish people.  If you fail to practice, on the other hand, God will smite you!"

No, that last part wasn't on the record, only in my terrified imagination of possibly screwing up before several hundred thoroughly disgusted friends and family in synagogue. But also in my imagination was the thought that with a record now impressed with my very own name throughout it, I had somehow become a star!  Or even a hero,  just like ....

A fiery horse at the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty 'Welcome to My Bar Mitzvah, Mr. and Mrs. Silvers!' ... THE LONE BAR MITZVAH BOY!

 "Twelve year old boys in the West faced many dangers," the staunch and stolid-voiced narrator would intone. "There were savage beasts, unfairly treated Native Americans (cleaning up the original language), and the Butch Cavendish Gang, whose sole purpose was to disrupt the Bar Mitzvahs of nice Jewish boys throughout the West, and in the Philadelphia suburbs as well!"

Butch Cavendish would then shout out "Stop that wagon train of Bar Mitzvah Boys! Don't let them practice for the service!"  And the Cavendish Gang rode off leaving the six Bar Mitzvah Boys for unprepared!

That evening, a Native American surveyed the ambushed Bar Mitzvah Boys. He muttered "Five Bar Mitzvah Boys unprepared. But this Bar Mitzvah Boy know part of the service!" Tonto, the Native American, would thereafter chant every day and every night to the Bar Mitzvah Boy: 

"Now, Kemosabe, repeat after me: BARCHU ET ADONAI HAM'VORACH ..."

Finally, after many days and nights of arduous practice, the Bar Mitzvah Boy was prepared. He said to Tonto: "Thank you, Tonto, I'm completely ready now for my Bar Mitzvah service. There's just one thing."

"What's that, Kemosabe?"

"From now on, I must always wear a mask!"

"Why is that, Kemosabe?"

"So that I can go after Butch Cavendish and he won't know who I am. Also in case I do happen to screw up before several hundred thoroughly disgusted friends and family in synagogue."

"I see, Kemosabe.   Meshuga, but I see."

"Yes, Tonto, from now on I'll be: 

THE LONE BAR MITZVAH BOY!"

************

And the Lone Bar Mitzvah Boy went on to capture Butch Cavendish and to not screw up at his Bar Mitzvah service, although he didn't exactly come off as any High Rabbi at Jerusalem either.

And then, not too long after all of that, my large red 78 RPM Bar Mitzvah record got put away in a box along with my complete collection of Lone Ranger records and the other 78 RPM records of Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse, Cinderella, and all the other favorites of a childhood spent in the 1950s.

Sure wish I could play them, but 78 RPM record players haven't existed for many years. But then it doesn't really matter.  Because in my mind and in my memory I can still hear it all:

"He's riding off," the synagogue folk would say, "who was he? We wanted to thank him."

"Why, no need for thanks," the rabbi would tell them. "He's the LONE BAR MITZVAH BOY!" 

"BYE-OH, MR. AND MRS. SILVERS!"

~~~~~~~~~~~

In Search of Big Eli

What an Exit! 

(Elijah Ascends to Heaven by Marc Chagall)

Every year at Passover we invoke his name and welcome him into our homes even though he hasn't phoned ahead and doesn't bring so much as an Entenmann's.   And we marvel at the fact that in one night he manages to visit the homes of each and every Jewish person having a Seder and does it without a sleigh, let alone eight tiny reindeer!   

But who really is this ancient Biblical figure known as Elijah the Prophet, or Big Eli for short? 

We're in search of Elijah the Prophet,  a quest that encompasses a painstaking reading of the Holy Scriptures,  deep discussion with learned rabbis, and a quick perusal of Wikipedia including the plea for money at the top of the page.  As we await Elijah's annual arrival, it's a good idea to bone up about him so we don't accidentally welcome in the wrong  prophet and wind up with some of the silverware missing.

The origins of Elijah are quite obscure. Virtually all he know about him stems from the Holy Scriptures, the Talmud, and Elijah for Dummies, which is in its third printing.  Most visual depictions of Elijah come out of  the Christian tradition and are of doubtful reliability, especially those in which he wears a cross the size of a barnyard door.  

  Elijah?

Yep, looking really goyish here!

Elijah lived in Israel in the 9th Century B.C.E., so it's likely he was almost as technologically clueless as the average Baby Boomer.  From a very early age, Elijah demonstrated great zeal for the Lord and often demonstrated it for the entire class as part of "Great Zeal Show and Tell."   

As he grew to adulthood, Elijah became a prophet of God which is something like the post Jay Carney holds today but for much less money.  He became known throughout Israel as "he who inveighest against those fallen from the path of the Lord" and as "he who knowest the meaning of the word inveighest."  It is written in the Holy Scriptures at  1 Nudniks 19:1-4 that:

"Elijah doth call down suffering and destruction upon the faithless ones through fire and brimstone, short sheeting of their beds, and girl friends who lookest like Methuselah!" 

It seems clear that Elijah probably rarely got invited to parties. 

Elijah spoke out with special fervor against the worship of a deity named Baal.  Refusing to play ball with Baal, he resolved to test the powers of God and Baal by having altars built to both and bidding the adherents of each to pray for their favored deity to light the altars. Sure enough, Baal called in sick while God put on a sound and light show almost as good as the one at Epcot Center. Baal still can't find work today.  

It is written in the Scriptures that when his earthy sojourn was completed Elijah was lifted up onto the heavens in a mighty whirlwind, which had not been predicted.  Had a modern day weather caster like Cecily Tynan been around who could nail a forecast the way Moses could nail a plague of locusts, it's likely Elijah would have stayed indoors and wound up with an earthly sojourn culminating years later by choking on some white fish in Boca. 

Of course, Elijah is still alive and very much with us every Passover.   Each year at the Seder, Jews worldwide open their doors to Elijah, hoping for him to enter but also praying he doesn't eat much.  A special cup of wine known as Elijah's Cup is laid out for him because it's the least we can do for such a distinguished guest, even though he never thinks to bring us so much as a sponge cake!

Some thoughts about Elijah as we prepare for the Elijah World Passover Tour 2013:

How does he make it to every Seder  in one night?  True, he isn't loaded down with presents, but with 12 million Jews around the world, he can't be any slouch either.  Does he drive a hybrid? Does he have a rocket ship?  Either way, assuming he takes even a small sip from the cup at each Seder, maybe we should take his keys?

Does he actually drink from Elijah's Cup? This is the Jewish equivalent of "every mother's child is going to spy to see if reindeers really know how to fly."  Assuming your mother's children have already spied, best ask them directly about this one --- preferably before they ransack the house for the Afikomen. 

Does he ever leave?  Unfortunately, he does frequently miss  social cues like "Oh my, look at the hour!" and "Aren't you due in Cleveland around now?," but with solid technique you can get him out before Shavuous.  Just place his cup next to mouthy Uncle Claude who thinks Obama is a Muslim or let it be known that Mrs. Pressman --- the hot divorcee who showed such a provocative interest in him at last year's Seder --- won't be making it to this one. 

Why can't we see him?  He's invisible, dumbass!  If Harry Potter can manage it, don't you think Big Eli can do it without breaking a sweat under one arm, under his tallis?

And so, folks, this year let's all welcome Elijah with open arms and full heart knowing he has now been fully vetted and given a complete background check. In a season of friendly faces around the table, Elijah brings us his own friendly face which --- albeit invisible --- helps bind together all people, Jews and gentiles alike, in the spirit of freedom which is Passover.

Drink Up, Elijah!

  As long as you're not driving

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this post, you might also like A Rickie Gervais Pesach!, The Eight Days of Passover Redux,  and Go Down, Twitter.

If you hated this post, I hope your brisket is burned, your matzoh balls leaden, and 3,000 year old Elijah never leaves your house and starts dating your teenage daughter!