Oy Vey

Had a total “dad” like moment the other night, the stuff Hallmark commercials are made of. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and no one else knew about it. I was just in my car on the way to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription for the rug rat. The car seems to be the place I most often feel like I have a family. Typically, I get the feeling when the three of us are going some place. And most often, it’s when the little one is dosing off in the back.

So yeah, this blog has sure changed its tune of late. Not that I lived like Hank from “Californiacation” but it’s safe to say, and I’m proud to say, my life is without question more domesticated. Just yesterday the kiddo came home after spending some time with her father, and one of the first things she said was, “we have to light something.” Now, I’m pretty liberal, but I’m not THAT liberal. She didn’t mean anything illegal; she wanted to light the Hanukkah candles. So after she told us her dradel story, we lit the candles. And it’s pretty well documented that I’m one of the worst Jews alive, but I had this sense of pride as well as amazement, when I helped her light the candles and had her repeat a prayer in Hebrew.

The dradle story I didn’t share with her, is one that’s very telling about ol’ Hirp. Back in second grade I ran into a little trouble at school. No one was suspended, or even had their parents told, but it speaks volumes about me. In the back of the class, during free time, two friends and I broke out the dradle. Harmless enough, right? Only we weren’t playing for chocolate (as customary), no we were playing for pennies. Hey, this was the early 80’s, money was hard to come by. Anyway, our game gets broken up. Point is, I was 7 years old and organizing gambling. Maybe it’s a good thing I left New York; I might have been involved in organized crime by 6th grade. Running book through junior high, shake downs in high school. That means I could be Boss of Bosses by now. Hmm, fuhgetaboutit. Greggy the mench. The Hirpino crime family. The Hebrew Hammer, shit, that’s taken. Then again, if I got pinched in second grade, maybe avoiding a life of crime was a wise decision on my part. You know, I am pretty smart.