Christmas and Hanukkah memories; The Revenge Of Mrs. Koch Do you celebrate Hanukkah? For me, it mostly consists of lighting candles, perhaps, making potato latkes, playing dreidel with Lauren and Elliot when they were younger, learning about the tradition, and buying a Hanukkah bush;) . When I studied for my Bar Mitzhah ( mostly for my fathers sake after my parents were divorced), Fridays a rabbi would come to our apartment to teach me the sacred chants of the Torah. And around Christmas, we always had a beautiful tree. Since we lived in an apartment building which was on the seventh floor, turns out, by chance, we also had seven neighbors. A typical Bronx floor, with Italians, Chinese, Irish and Jews. And, Nosey Mrs Kochs apartment was directly opposite ours. After peering into our apartment through the partially open door, as I was on my way to the elevator, she could not help herself and said, in her very strong New York Jewish accent , which I delight in in imitating, Stephen, isnt this the day that your rabbi comes; what will he say? I knew that she was referring to the tree, but I wanted her to have to say it. So, I said, About what, Mrs. Koch? Still not allowing herself to say anything Christmas, she said, You know... I said, No, I dont. And, after many aborted attempts, finally, she said, You know, what will he say about the tree ? Thereby, omitting absolutely any reference to that Pagan, Turkish. Christian, Jewish Tree standing tall in our living room. So, finally, to help her out and to stop her inquisition, I said, oh, you mean our Hanukkah bush... And, besides our rabbi wont mind! And, that was, in fact, quite true. Turns out that this Christmas, I almost electrocuted myself. Curious, I put a tin Christmas ornament into the wall outlet for the Christmas tree, just to see what would happen. This ornament was a brightly black and yellow colored butterfly with two long antennae, which so happened to fit neatly into the outlet. The next thing that happened was that both the entire butterfly turned black - no more yellow - as well as the fingertips of my right hand. To be honest, I dont remember much next. I think I saw some sparks, all the lights in the apartment went out, and, later, less stunned, and, apparently not dead, yet, I put some type of antiseptic cream on my hand. Several days later, with my right hand bandaged with white gauze, I went back to being the conductor of my Lionel trains, guiding them along the infinity shaped tracks beneath our Hanukkah Bush.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 18:01:18 +0000
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