Not Chosen, Just Posin'

I just got a job with a Jewish magazine. I'm not Jewish. They think I am.


Thursday, January 04, 2007

Meet Rabbi Freud

I am pleased to announce that after two weeks of pure mediocrity and maybe even deafening silence in these parts, someone has stepped up to the plate and said something noteworthy. It was the Publisher’s Wife, bless her black, little heart.

A few facts about her:

-For a rounder woman (not fat, mind you—just well-fed), she has a very high-pitched, screeching voice. Upon seeing her, one would expect a throatier, fuller voice.

-After meeting someone (anyone), she bitches about them (we have this in common, evidently) and it’s downright hilarious. It’s especially amusing when she is guilty of doing the things she’s bitching about.

-Her sister lives in Israel, somewhere up North. The sister is currently visiting and is very odd looking. She has a flat face, wears glasses and even if her head is upright, she is still, somehow, looking at the ground. Her hair is scraggly, but her looks have nothing to do with this.

-One of her daughters had a “Christmas attack” this season. She didn’t understand why everything was decked out Christmas style. The Publisher’s Wife explained that they live in a Christian country and that the majority of people who live here celebrate this holiday. When her father, my boss, attended her dance practice, he brought in little goody bags with both chocolate Santas and gelt (chocolate coins, evidently). This was the straw that broke the little dancing camels back. “Even my Jewish father is celebrating Christmas!”

Given this trivia, it was great to hear the following come out of the Publisher’s Wife's mouth:

-After getting off the phone with someone: “Her voice is so annoying! How can anyone stand to be around her all day?” Hello, Mr. Kettle. Greetings, Mr. Black.

-“I just went to a PTA meeting and this lady kept on giving specific examples about her kids. I don’t care if Katy goes to bed at 9:00 every night. I don’t care if Rachel is enrolled in 50 sports activities.” Ironically, all the Publisher’s Wife talks about is her kids. Non-stop.

-“My sister and I are really different. I love her because she’s my sister but she’s from here and ever since she moved to Israel she speaks with an accent as if she’s a native. Oh! And when she speaks in English she puts the subject at the end of the sentence how they do it over there.”

-“I made an appointment for my daughter to go talk to a rabbi tomorrow about the Christmas stuff. He’s new and I don’t like him much but I’m sure he’ll explain it better than I can. He’s like a therapist.”

With a mother like this, I can totally understand why sending her to someone who is “like a therapist” would be a step in the right direction.

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