Friday, April 22, 2011

I'd Rather Stab Myself in the Eye Than Have a Meaningful Conversation

It's Passover. It's that time of year where Jews of all levels of observance and knowledge and such gather to recount the story of how Pharoh was a dumba** and tangled with the Jews. To summarize: "They tried to kill us, the failed, let's eat." Of course, that's a simplification, but it's the basic theme to all Jewish Holidays except Yom Kippur...which is better summarized in "We suck, we don't deserve to live, and see, we're not eating to prove it."

We spent the first seder with my gay boyfriends. They're overachievers when it comes to...well everything to be honest. This is the email that hubby and I got a few days before:
    But we ARE asking people to bring a small item to add to the second seder plate. Last year <insert name of gay boyfriend here> added a spool of thread which lead to a lot of discussion...I think you get the picture. One per family should provide plenty of questions and discussions.
Yeah. Here's the thing. By the time you get to dinner (which is where we did this), there's already been a LOT of discussion. Some seders more than others, but this was a "some seder", not an "other". First, there's the whole story of Pharoh and oppression and plagues and such. Then add lots of knowledgable Jews who want to tell about something they read or something they wondered or sing a new tune. We Jews? We interpret. We never take ANYTHING at face value. We argue across the centuries. We sieze upon inconsistencies and come up with all kinds of reasons they could be there. So, there's LOTS of discussion by the time we get to FOOD.

I knew this was coming. And the Heckler-in-Chief was READY. I'm not a "The Thighmaster is neither a thigh nor a master. Discuss." type of girl. Ok, I'm THAT type of girl, but "Tell us about your personal Exodus from Egypt" is not my gig. So, I brought my husband's LEAST favorite part of Passover, THE MATZAH MAN. I love a lot about Passover, but I perhaps love The Matzoh Man best. He does a little dance. And I do it with him. Every time.

So, Matzoh Man joined us at the seder and took up a lot of room on the discussion plate. The person who took it upon herself to start the discussions wanted to know why he was there. And I replied the above. Much laughter ensued. Come on, at least half the room was thinking the SAME thing.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

plYou have missed a golden opportunity here. You were with gay friends, and you had a Matzoh Man.
Reply should have been:

Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey!
Matzoh, Matzoh man (Matzoh man)
I've got to be, a Matzoh man
Matzoh, Matzoh man
I've got to be a Matzoh! Ow....

Matzoh, Matzoh man
I've got to be, a Matzoh man
Matzoh, Matzoh (yeah, yeah)
I've got to be a Matzoh!


I live at the YMCA
Yes I live at the YMCA-AY
You can have Seder Meal
You can have a good time
You can do whatever you fee-heeeeel