Have You Heard the One About Abraham and the Mountain?

Alright, I knew when I went to bed last night at my parents that I had forgotten to pack my dress-up shoes -- left 'em under my desk at work. So, I knew I would look like a recovering orthopedic patient -- the only shoes I had to wear with my baby blue and tan short skirted suit were my worn out, clunky, Dansko clogs. So, when I woke up to go to services, I knew I wasn't going to be the best dressed congregant at our Rent-a-gogue. I was prepared for that. What I wasn't prepared for was being the porn star in the back row -- I had forgotten my underwear. Great way to start the New Year. Mom always said you should always have clean underwear, what if you get into an accident? How horrified was mom when she caught me going through my bathing suit drawer - yes, I wore a pair of bathing suit "trunks" under my skirt.

So, there I sat, in my bathing suit, in the back row of a church in Glenside, that twice a year transforms itself into Temple Micah by covering up the looming crucifix with a roll down Ten Commandments, for High Holiday services, listening to the standup comedian Rabbi. Stand-up Rabbi? Oh yes, we're treated to the funny Rabbi -- Rabbi Alper, yes go on and click on him -- he has his own website - in fact, he tells us that at the end of every sermon. So, while I'm squirming around while my bikini bottom gives me a wedgy, and I'm trying to shove my shoes under the seats in front of us so no one can seem them, the Rabbi talks about today's Torah portion, the binding of Isaac. In explaining the differing, yet strangely consistent interpretations of Abraham's near sacrifice of his son, Rabbi tells this story - So a married couple goes to a Rabbi, and sits with him in his study. The Rabbi's wife listens at the kitchen door. The husband tells his side of their marital troubles, and the Rabbi says, "hmm, you're right." Then, the wife paints her own picture, and the Rabbi says, "You are right." He then goes into the kitchen to get a little snack, and his wife says to him, "They can't both be right." The Rabbi thinks, nods, and says, "You are also right." He he. And they just kept rolling . . . well, at least he seems like a genuinely kind man, and from the many personal stories he has told over the years (yes, he builds his sermons by telling a long involved personal story, and then tries to contort the story, twisting it, to fit some moral conclusion - today's story was something about his days in the glee club and traveling to Puerto Rico at the invitation of a Rabbi named Diego Mandelbaum), he clearly has a big heart - and I guess, that's really the most you can ask of a Rabbi.

So, after services, we went back to my play-aunt's house for lunch. While I refer to her as my aunt, we're not related by blood, but by geography - our families were the only Jewish families within a ten block radius in Warmimster, Pa for years and years and years. Now while my mom was never the knitter, my aunt, on the other hand, was a maven - we exchange patterns via email, and when we see each other, we admire each other's projects. So, today, she sat on the couch, felled by a torn muscle, and said, Wendy, in the bedroom - and she pointed - I went into the bedroom -- there it was - on the dresser - No. . . .it couldn't be. The horror! Will it never end! Just when you think you're out - it pulls you back in! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! IT WAS A DEAD DOG SCARF!!! This one in dog poop brown. I just couldn't believe it. I took it into the living room -- YOU KNIT A DEAD POODLE!!! She looked at me, well, yeah, but it's for the Hadassah craft sale. SO???? Well, it looks better on. NO IT DOESN'T. She shrugged, you're right, it's not beautiful. I raised an eyebrow. You're right, it's ugly, but I think the ladies will like it. And, sadly, she's right. I think we're going to be seeing a lot of old Jewish ladies with dead dogs around their necks this winter. Sigh. It's going to be a long year.