This post would be titled "Putting the Bar in Bar Mitzvah.."
Last weekend was the great Boston Bar Mitzvah-palooza. My nephew Eli, having turned the age of 13, read from the Torah in front of a quorum of (mostly) Jewish adults and he was great. He has worked hard and it showed as he sang (to my ears) in perfect Hebrew. My brother-in-law and his wife live in a very liberal suburb of Massachusetts. I have never seen so many Subaru Outbacks. How liberal you ask? The songbook for their temple had a nice explanation in the foreword (which for Jews is the backword - - everything starts at the back. Thanks for giving the Catholic kids the heads up!!) Anyway, they had a message that all of the songs and readings had been edited…updated to remove any mention of God as a “he” or a “him” so as not to encourage masculine imagery which could only lead to idolatry and misogyny and oppression. Oy. During the three hour ceremony, the rabbi made announcements about the sick and the dying and those that needed prayers and positive thoughts. As part of this he stated, “and this week, the 40th president of the United States Ronald Reagan passed away.” That was it. He didn’t even say, “let us pray” or anything like that, which is what we Catholics say. He didn’t break down, or say he was a great guy, god love’ em, he simply said, “he died.” Well right after this wonderful ceremony celebrating Eli’s passage from childhood into adulthood, one of the temple members marched up to the rabbi and yelled at him. “How could you mention that son-of-a bitch’s name in this temple after all of the lives he ruined!!!” This guy was hot. The rabbi stated that it was a matter of respect, and the guy argued with him. Arguing with the rabbi!! I guess it wasn’t as bad as Sam’s Bar Mitzvah which occurred December a few years ago while the election was still being decided. We were in a shop on Charles Street near Beacon Hill when the clerk started shrieking. The Supreme Court had made a decision in Bush’s favor. She hugged another clerk and they patted each other’s tears, unconsolable. We thought a Kennedy had been shot.
So more about the Bar Mitzvah. Let me just say that the people at (temple name here) are the happiest Jews I have ever met. The first 30 minutes of the ceremony was singing. Everyone sang!! In harmony!! With energy, enthusiasm and love in their heart! I looked around for those with eyes cast downward mumbling “rutabaga, watermelon, rutabaga” and I couldn’t see a one. Everyone was ridiculously friendly…Jewish Ned Flanders all of them. “Shalom-y shabbat-y good neighbor! And a mazel tov-oppity doo to you too!” I remembered this feeling from Sam’s where I walked into the main worship area with my coat on. A man came over, smiling and said, “May I take your coat?” I said, “Oh! NO, thank you.” He said, “But we have a coat room…” And I said, “That’s nice!” And we had this strange back and forth before I realized that NO ONE in the temple had a coat on. * doh * It made me want to say, Look, where I come from you walk in, kneel, say what you have to say when you need to say it, get the host and go. There’s no taking off of the coats! There’s no smiling, exuberant singing, eye contact or getting comfortable! There is no comfort in the Catholic Church.
What a strange world I had entered into….
Anyway. That was the ceremony. The party was that night and oh god it must be a ring of Dante’s hell to be a bar mitzvah DJ. It was the same guy who did Sam’s and clearly having watched him keep 30 thirteen year olds dancing and entertained, he is the best in the greater Boston area. And the thirteen year olds. What you might expect: boys in tan slacks and ill fitted blue blazers, Dad’s tie. Girls in dresses a little too sophisticated for my liking and cheap, chunky heels which helped not at all with the already obvious height disparities. It's getting hot in herrr.... so take off all yo clothes.... Open bar and there I was with my ginger ale. Sigh. I tried dancing, but it's just not the same sober OR pregnant. All my moves are off! I wore the heels for as long as physically possible and paid for it the next day with a killer back ache.
As part of the celebration, Eli made speeches and welcomed family members up to light a candle on his cake. It was really pretty touching. They gave the DJ a play list of songs that matched each of the introductions. Eli’s Uncle Keith owns a GMC dealership so of course when he and his family went up the Grateful Dead’s “Truckin” started. When members of our family who recently moved to North Carolina were called up, it was James Taylor, “In my mind I’m going to Carolina…” So, you ask, what did they play for me and the husband? Oh, why Kenny Loggins. “People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one, and we've just begun, Think I'm gonna have a son.” Of course what did I do? Well at first I burst out laughing, but then, I totally cried. “And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey, And everything will bring a chain of love.” I’m sure Eli didn’t come up with that one. I’ll get who did. It’s not nice to take advantage of emotional pregnant girl.
So Sunday morning was family brunch time, and Sunday evening was family dinner time, and then back home. I’m done with family time in any form for quite awhile now. There are only two boys, which means no more Bar Mitzvah’s for me which is a shame because I was just considering letting someone take my coat.
I have pasted a few of the photos from this special event below.
This is Eli during the "hora" which I affectionately call "the chair dance." It looks like loads of fun. I wanted to do this at our wedding but the husband said no. The chair dance and The Chicken Dance, no. I barely felt married.
This is Cosmo. Cosmo is dumb as a sack of hammers and after about 10 years he has finally mellowed which isn't saying much. Cosmo can barely find his way to the end of a leash which is why that cheesy bandana hides an electric fence collar. Canine correction through high voltage. The neighbors have an electric fence too. A few years ago, when it was first installed, he broke through it only to cross the street and get zapped by the neighbors fence. SO there he was, running back and forth, Zap! Zap! Zap! Finally he just gave up and laid down in the middle of the street. Poor Cosmo.
This is Eli's cake. The cake that we lit candles for the night before in an emotional moment. The cake that only Cosmo ate. (Note lip smacking in prior photo.) Bad Cosmo.
This is Eli beatin' the skins in the basement. He's not that bad, truly, for a thirteen year old. I told him not to choke on his vomit or anyone elses.
And because it's been awhile since I posted one, here is a photo of the Belly at about 29 weeks.
