“Words, words, words”

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“…Wisdom is better than strength: nevertheless the poor man's wisdom is despised, and his words are not heard.”
- Ecclesiastes 9:16

Last week, right before Rosh Hashannah, the Jewish New Year, I was sequestered with my wife, Dahlia, and her parents in Radisson hotel near the Rochester Airport for 4 days.

We’ve all had our parents jabber on and on, oblivious to our lack of interest. That’s what family get-togethers are all about!
I remember, on several occasions, my father and mother ending a conversation with the following exchange:

Dad: “Okay, that’s enough.”
Mom: “Hey, I’m talking!”
Dad: “Yeah, but you’re not SAYING anything!”

Frustrating… and yet, sometimes, it’s those pointless discussions that can often be the highlight of a day’s discourse.

Here is a brief conversation I had with my in-laws, sitting in the gazebo outside of the aforementioned Radisson. I tried to be heard, but I was ignored… thank God. We were discussing first names:

Mom-in-law: Sometimes men have women’s names, too.
Dad-in-law: That’s right, like John Wayne. Didn’t he have a woman’s name?
Me: Marion.
Mom-in-law: Yes, he did. What was it?
Me: Marion.
Dad-in-law: I don’t know.
Me: It was Marion.
Mom-in-law: Some men are named Leslie.
Dad-in-law: That’s true.
Me: It was Marion.
Mom-in-law: My old high school principal was named Leslie
Dad-in-law: Maybe John Wayne was a Leslie.
Me: He was Marion.
Mom-in-law: No he was my vice principal… Leslie.
Dad-in-law: Yes, vice principal Leslie.
Mom-in-law: When men are named Leslie they usually go by “Les.”
Me: When men are named Marion they usually go by “John Wayne.”

Feels like family.

“What’s in a name? If you call a rose a turd, that don’t make it smell like shit.”
- Shakespeare… more or less

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Knockin' on Heaven's Door

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“…Therefore shall ye lay up these my words in your heart and in your soul… And thou shalt write them upon the door posts of thine house, and upon thy gates”
-- Deuteronomy 11:18,20

This week, my wife and I affixed a mezuzah to our doorpost.
Kind of a big deal.
For those less informed—a mezuzah is a small rectangle box, usually one inch wide, 3 inches long. Inside the box is a piece of parchment that includes several verses from the Torah, including the above verses, and others that praise God's oneness, like the Sh'mah prayer (Deuteronomy 6:4-9, 11:13-21).
Jews nail a mezuzah to the doorpost of their house.

Why?
So they can ward off evil spirits!
And solicitors.

Actually, that’s not far off. It reminds us of the final of the Ten Plagues that God sent to punish the ancient Egyptians for enslaving my ancestors! Yay! In this biblical equation, the Jews are Whitney Houston and God is Kevin Costner.
“And I… ee-I… ee-I… will always love Jews.”

So, Moses instructed the Israelites—take a lamb, kill it, and rub its blood on the doorposts of their house.
Why?
And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt. (Exodus 12:13)

So God can magically turn water into blood, send frogs everywhere, and kill people—but can’t tell the circumcised slaves from the wealthy, cat-worshipping Egyptians.
TMBS!
(This Movie’s Bull Shit).
Okay, so NOW I’m taking umbrage with the veracity of the Bible (i.e., ‘dis here book ain’t the truth).


Anyway, it’s a nice tradition nowadays—Jews can tell the house of another Jew (for when we’re lost in a new neighborhood; or if we’re trick-or-treating and don’t want any candy with gelatin in it).

But affixing a mezuzah to one’s doorpost is a big deal—there’s a special blessing for it. It tells the world—this is my home, and it will be for… at least a while.
This is the first place that my wife and I can truly call home. That is why, the day we moved in—I carried her over the threshold—I have the hernia to prove it!... a hernia of love!
But I like a mezuzah because, like wearing a kippah (yarmulke, head-covering) it forces me to fight my inner demons—namely, I am self-conscious… about everything-- including my religion. I don’t like being loud on the street, arguing on the subway, dressing in “loud” colors or Public Displays of Affection (now, if you removed the “L” from the first word, then we could talk).

Well, Judaism says, “Screw you, Aaron, screw you and your hang-ups and insecurities. Wear that kippah in public, nail that mezuzah to your door—say it loud, you’re a Jew and you’re proud!” (God knows we’re a loud people… literally, God KNOWS it:
“And God heard their groaning…” (Exodus 2:24)
“And the LORD said, I have … heard their cry” (Ex 3:7)
“I have heard the murmurings of the children of Israel” (Ex 16:12)
And now, a kinky one!
“And I have also heard the groaning of the children of Israel, whom the Egyptians keep in bondage... (Ex 6:5)

Ha!
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