Ma and Pa Celebrate Hanukkah

SPECIAL HANUKKAH EDITION

Reprinted by Special Permission of Parade Magazine

They put the "i" in iconic, this special couple, and by definition they also put the "we" in it as well. 

They are none other than Ma Nishtanah and Pa Rumpumpumpum, two halves of show business’ happiest mixed marriage, now together for over 35 years and still proving exactly what it takes for people of different backgrounds to forge a lasting and loving relationship. And it was our privilege at Parade Magazine to visit with these lovebirds just as we did last April as the two prepared to celebrate one of the major holidays of their two disparate traditions, the eight day Feast of Lights called Hanukkah.

"She's driving me crazy with all this Hanukkah crap!" said Pa, greeting us warmly at the door. "Right now she's stinking up the place frying those Jesus H. Christ latkes!"

Budweiser in hand, Pa ushered us into the kitchen where Ma was assuming a familiar position, bent over the stove and staring disapprovingly at Pa. 

"Welcome to our happy Jewish & whatever the hell religion it is he is home!" said Ma. "You're just in time for some fried latkes, a Jewish tradition!"

"Latkes," said Pa, "the Jewish answer to coronary heart disease.  Until we fumigate I can't even enjoy my six- pack and mayonnaise sandwich!"

This idyllic relationship didn’t happen overnight.

Originally from the Russian shtetl of Anapaquin, Rose Nishtanah's family fled to America when they became a bit weary of Cossacks using their physical persons to break in a juggling act.  Settling in New York City, Rose utilized her talent for song and dance to become a star on Broadway under the name Rose "Ma" Nishtanah, a middling joke gentile readers won't find funny, but we've explained it below anyway just in case.*

Sadly, Ma's first marriage to the dapper but dissolute Irwin “Buddy” Berenson foundered when Buddy gambled away all her money and personal possessions and began extracting  teeth and internal organs at night while she slept. Eventually he owed so much money to the mob that he went over the fiscal cliff  in a manner that would have had John Boehner really crying his eyes out!

Eustace Rumpumpum  came out of a dirt-poor Arkansas town to score a number one hit with "A Grover Norquist Christmas," followed up by "Jesus Loves Me, But I'm Against Gay Marriage" and a tender ballad to his first wife on the eve of her hysterectomy "Stand By Your Glands."

Unfortunately Eustace's marriage to former hair dresser Tammy Lynette Hairnette ended tragically when he came home one afternoon to find her discussing economic and political theory with Paul Krugman.  Devastated, Eustace added a third "pum" to his last name and began calling himself "Pa," both for no discernible reason whatsoever.

Despite prior heartbreak, when the disenchanted and lonely Ma and Pa finally met it was a magical, mystical kismet!  "I was hoping for a big shlong this time around," said Ma. "And I wanted to corrupt and degrade a Jewess," added Pa.

"How about we play some dreidel before we light the menorah?"Ma asked us.

"Dreidel?!" said Pa. "That has to be the most boring game since Uno for the Colorblind!" 

"Well, then let's sing "Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel," suggested Ma.

"That's even lamer  than "The Little Drummer Boy!" said Pa.

"Well, what's better,  Mr. Jesus-of-Nose-Hair-Breath?" 

"This is!" said Pa, producing a CD. "It's the Maccabeats doing "Miracle,  a cover of Matisyahu.  And it's your Hanukkah present, Ma!"'

"And here's your Christmas present early, Pa!" said Ma. "The Second Amendment 2013 Pin-up Calendar!"

And both of them then melted into each other's arms!  

Sometimes our differences,” say Ma Nishtanah and Pa Rumpumpumpum --- two halves of the happiest mixed marriage in show business --- “are less than they seem.” 

That should be true for us all.

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*Ma Nishtanah is the beginning of the central prayer of the Passover Seder known as "The Four Questions."   Ma Nishtanah's sisters, by the way,  are Lilo Hazeh and Nicole Halaylos.  We'll explain those another time.

The Portal

I don't want to brag,  but I've spent the past week hanging with two very important persons.  

The great Alfred Hitchcock was kind enough to make a special appearance in my blog post There's Always a Hitch, his presence therein affording me with a terrific opportunity nobody else can ever lay claim to:  I  got to direct Hitchcock. And know what?  

As an actor,  Alfred Hitchcock should be treated like cattle!

Next I spent some time helping Pope Benedict get ready for his upcoming Twitter debut in The Pope's Tweets. True, the pontiff never directed a hit movie,  but he's got a bit of clout as well and now thanks to me he can spell "WOOT" in 17 different languages!

My entry in the Friday Fictioneers is below, based on the picture prompt above. Thanks as always to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, both Director and Pope to this enterprise, who has  never yet treated any of us like cattle no matter how much we might sometimes deserve it.

The Portal

When the announcement was made, he had been the first to volunteer to walk though the paneled hallway and into the glowing portal that would lead to another time and place. 

It would not be just any time and place, however. Irrefutable calculations had proven that  the portal would take him to the most pivotal event in the history of humankind.  It could not possibly do other. 

Knowing there would be no return as well as he knew he had nothing to return for,  he reached the portal and calmly walked through the glowing light that framed it.

He heard a voice.   It could have been of any time or place,  of any language or person,  or of any nation or peoples of the world.   Yet he understood.   

"Congratulations to us all," said the voice. 

"It is a girl ...."

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

Note:  After reading and responding to the comments below, I made a small change to this piece.

The Pope's Tweets

When I learned Pope Benedict had joined Twitter and would shortly be issuing his first tweet, I was excited to the point of epiphany.

At last somebody older and probably even more out of touch with today's social networking culture was joining Twitter,  and a major A-Lister to boot!  And absent another Protestant Reformation,  an A-Lister who cannot possibly ever be dropped down even a single list.

Sensing  an opportunity to leap in and become the Pope's Twitter mentor and secure for myself the highest --- and pretty much only --- celebrity follower I've ever had, here's what will be greeting the pontiff when he climbs aboard the Good Ship Twitter early next week:

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

@Pontifex  WOOT!  Welcome to Twitter, Your Holiness.  Dig those vestments!

@Pontifex  Since you are the #newbiepope on Twitter, Id love to show you around. Remember this hashtag,  and to keep it holy. 

@Pontifex Choose an avatar that makes you look younger than you are.  Mine is 8 years old. If I were you, I'd add a couple more decades.  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Keep your Twitter profile simple. "God's Go-To Guy" way better than "God's Go-To Guy. Loves Lost, Thomas Aquinas, & chocolate chip cookies" #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Are you related to the actor who played Cliff on "Cheers?"  Oh, right, that's Ratzenberger. #newbiepope

@Pontifex Probably don't want to push the infallibility thing too much on Twitter.  Everybody misspells stuff occasionally and ... you need this job!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Content is King.  I mean ... after you, Your Holiness! #newbiepope

@Pontifex That thing's called a mitre? Cool!  Tweet about that!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Avoid getting too political on Twitter.  I usually refrain from expressing my liberal, agnostic, and pro-choice views and you should too!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex Interact with people of all races, colors, & creeds, but remember:  I am your No. 1 Jew! #newbiepope

@Pontifex A Direct Message or DM is used when you want to communicate directly with one person. @PatRobertson? I guess.   #newbiepope

@Pontifex When you find a tweet funny,  type LOL for laugh out loud or LMAO for ...   maybe it's best you just keep the laughter down. #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Don't type LOL after your own tweet;  it looks like you're laughing at your own joke.  Not that I've any doubt they're way funny, Holiness! #newbiepope

@Pontifex Use a smiley face to indicate you're making a joke.  I made this one for you.  Œ: )  Happy Face Pope w/ Mitre!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  Keep it clean. Occasional sexual innuendo is fine, but leave the dick jokes to the pros on Favstar.  #newbiepope

@Pontifex Don't try to explain the old "why does God allow evil & suffering?" on Twitter.  140 characters goes real fast. #newbiepope

@Pontifex Never tweet directly to @God, @Jesus, @Moses or variation thereof & expect it to "get there."  Hint: People love to screw around on Twitter.  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  OMG, I forgot to explain about OMG!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  There's also something called WTF.  You've heard about it?  Right, Holiness,  it is "fudge."   #newbiepope

@Pontifex Don't be upset if someone unfollows you.  But if you do have ways of zapping 'em,  go for it, Pontiff!  #newbiepope

@Pontifex  I wouldn't expect @KimKardashian, @ladygaga,  & @justinbieber to all follow you back.  But if they do, damn, maybe YOU REALLY ARE DA MAN! #newbiepope

And from there on in, it's all up to the Pope.

Tweet me,  Holiness!  

In no time at all I'll bet Pope Benedict and I will be tweeting, Facebooking, Google Plusing,  Pinteresting,  and maybe even goose quill penning each other, both of us totally and fully immersed and engaged  in every  manner of deep, meaningful, and mutually satisfying human intercourse.

@Pontifex  Oh, knock it off, Your Holiness!  I warned you about keeping it clean!

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Note: Astute readers may have noticed that some of my tweets to the Pope above are over 140 characters long.  There are three reasons:  

1) Artistic license for comedic purposes. 
2) I'm trying to help the Pope here! 
3) Yes, it is good for the Jews ....

There's Always a Hitch

It was an unusually warm but otherwise quite typical day in early December.  

That new movie about Alfred Hitchcock had just opened and as he was one of my favorite directors I put on a pair of slacks and a button down shirt and headed out the door for a pleasant afternoon at the movies. 

Two men in dark gray suits quickly walked up beside me.

"Come with us, Mr. Kaplan."

"What is this about?" I said. "I'm not your Mr. Kaplan."

The two men flung me into the back seat of the car and sped away. Before long, though, I noticed the rear car door was open, made a lunge for it, and tumbled out onto the roadside.

"Mr. Kaplan, don't you want us to take you to Sid's Mufflers to pick up your car?" said one of the men. "It's a free service."

"You moron," said the other, "I told you his name is Mr. Block, not Mr. Kaplan. What, you think all Jews look alike?"

I tumbled onto a corn field and there up above was a crop dusting plane headed right at me, firing real live bullets.  I ran for my life! 

"Don't kill me, I'm not from the EPA!"  I shouted.  "Please, use all the pesticides you like!"

"Sorry, buddy, not shooting at you," the pilot hollered back, "we find rapid machine gun fire the best way to get rid of aphids."

I flung myself onto a passing train and as I stood up in the section between two cars, a nattily dressed middle aged man approached me.

"Hello, Charlie," he said.

"My name isn't Charlie."

"I call everyone Charlie. You can call me Charlie."

Charlie then lunged at my throat!

"Charlie, why are you choking me?! By your count, there are at least seven billion other Charlies you could be choking! "

"I'm not choking you, Charlie, I'm straightening your collar!  Have you  just been chased through a corn field by a machine gun firing crop duster or something?"

I fell off the train into the middle of a busy city street.  

"Scottie, I let you change me because I love you," said an enigmatic blonde woman in a gray tailored suit. 

"But... but ... I'm not Scot... " I stammered.

A black terrier ran in front of us and headed off towards a nearby tower.

"I walk you every morning at 6:00 AM now, Scottie, and I used to be a night person!" 

Exhausted and with my leg hurting, I checked into the nearest hotel where  through a big picture window I could see all the hotel guests in the atrium. A burly gray haired man with glasses stared up at me with an air of ignorance and contempt almost as though I were a vagina and he a member of the Republican Party.

In a moment he was at the door, entering my hotel room!

"What do you want of me?"

In terror, I fell backwards into a chair, my injured leg extending straight before me.

"What do you want of me?"  he repeated. "I'm an Amway Distributor;  want any cleanser, detergent.  Need Amway's knock off of Depends?"

As I wasn't interested, he left and I went to take a shower to relax.  As the warm water cascaded pleasantly about me,  I  saw a dark shadow appear through the shower curtain. The curtain parted and there was a man dressed as a woman brandishing a long sharp knife!

"Forgot to tell you I also sell this 6-in-1 paring knife. Great for salads.  Dressed up like a women to show you how much the chicks love it!"

Throwing on pants and shirt, I ran out of the hotel. Up ahead was the theater where  Hitchcock was playing.  If only I could make it there, everything would be all right!

Then something pelted me on the head.  Then I was hit again.  Soon I was being pelted again and again all over my body!

Frankly, however, this happens to me every day. 

As I reached the theater,  I grabbed hold of the back of a gentleman standing by the door and implored him to see me safely into the confines of the humble destination I had so innocently sought such a seemingly long time ago.   

"Good Evening," 

he turned around and said. 

"Mr. Hitchcock!  What is this all about?"

"Knowing  you wanted to see this movie, Mr. Block, I thought you might appreciate the full Hitchcock experience."

"But, sir, you've put me though the most chilling parts of  just about every great movie you ever made:  North by Northwest, Shadow of a Doubt, Vertigo,  Rear Window,  Psycho, and The Birds.

"Not exactly.  From what I know of you, Mr. Block,  I had to leave one out." 

"Which was it? Lifeboat? Notorious? Dial M for Murder?"

"No, not one of those."

"Which one then?"

"The Man Who Knew Too Much."

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

On second thought, maybe I will take some cleanser.