One of the major reasons I was attracted to Rabbi Yossi and Chabad is they know how to party. Their tradition is one of joyousness in the study and living of Torah, and alcohol, as a means to help things along, is often encouraged.
Oh yeah -- also Wifey and I were turned off by the hypocrisy and sanctimoniousness of a Rabbi, now retired, who I'll call Mark Kram, since that's his name. I had met him at UM and asked him to perform our wedding. He said he would, but Wifey and I would have to attend a series of meetings -- designed to lower the alarming divorce rate among modern Jews. Wifey and I did, and bought in to the crap: "Let us (his wife Mindy and him) be a part of your married life."
And then, 4 days before our big day, he called to say he was offered a free trip to Israel - and so we were on our own. As D2 loves it when I tell the story, I said "But I thought we was partners!" We wasn't. I asked who he would suggest to replace him. No one. So Eric's Mom Norma came to the rescue -- found a very nice Relief Rabbi, as I called him, named Norman, who did a yeoman's job. But Wifey and I were so turned off, I don't know we'd ever have joined another reform congregation.
Later on, when we attended events, I was still turned off. Many of the rabbis seemed to want to make their congregations cool -- like Christian youth churches with neat music -- the only thing missing were the crosses and crucifixes. Again -- not for us.
But then Yossi and Nechama came along, and we became friends. The first Purim, there was dancing, and reading of the Megillah, the story of Purim, as we became drunker and drunker. Yossi handed me a huge bottle of Stoli, and another of Scotch, and told me to keep filling shot glasses. I did -- it was a great night -- followed by a series of great, fun Purims (Pura?).
My sister Trudy even made me an embroidered shirt that said L'Chaim Boy," to identify me as the guy where you went when your shot glass was empty. Those were fun times.
Alas -- as the Ds grew, we stopped going to the Purim parties. And this year, there's some kind of drive through celebration.
Our Purim will be just eating some hamantashan, the traditional triangle shaped pastries meant to mimic the evil King Hamann's hat. D1 gave us a Purim basket yesterday, and it had a few. And then our friend Lili texted -- she had made delicious guava hamantashan -- combining her Cuban roots with her new culture -- and I fetched a box during my evening walk. Wifey asked me to hide them lest she gobble them all down in one sitting.
Tonight I'll host our usual 7 pm Zoom cocktail party, and we'll raise a glass to Purim. Also to Josh -- my nephew of another brother turns 23 next week, and we can use the get together, though virtual, to wish him a very healthy and happy birthday as he begins his 24th year on this planet.
So we'll say L'Chaim, but no L'Chaim Boy. Maybe someday he'll ride, or pour, again.
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