Weekend Update: New York
Visiting New York is always a special treat. Going with my family is even sweeter. If you read the Squeeze, you know I’ve had a boner for Lady Liberty since I was five, when my mother first took Jonathan and I all over the city in our matching Gap jackets. My brobro will say I sound like a tourist, but those first trips to the Empire State Building, the Plaza where we did goofy HOME ALONE faces, Rumplemayer’s for ice cream, Serendipity for frozen hot chocolate, Central Park for walks with Grandma and trips to the theater really ingrained a love for the joint. Those places have since been replaced by beer gardens, dimly lit bars that make Anne Frank’s Amsterdam attic look spacious, and all-night diners that don’t serve matzoh ball soup. The smells are familiar - that funk when you get into Penn Station, or the smell of stale beer in all the bars, the cabs, the natural heat.
I made some new friends this time around. Wonderful gents, really. Let’s see. Hmm…there was Ian, the handsome MGMT face-panted skateboarder, a dead-ringer for Casper in KIDS, sans the date-rape rap sheet. Or how about Tim, the bearded fellow who looked straight out of the inside-flap of a Creedence LP. There was also Sam, my cultural attaché to the gay community. Sam wears two wrist-watches, a punk-inspired wristband, and what I know isn’t but can only be described as anal beads. Very chic. Loved him.
The Bar-Mitzvah — or shall I say, the reason I was there — was off the charts. Insane. Bananas. A lot of things have changed since my day on the bimah. Did you know Jewish families hire “motivators”, these buff, usually African-American dancers that are supposed to “motivate” the shy kids? This one blonde-babe “motivator” came up to me thinkin, “look at this four-eye Jew. I will bring him out of his shell.” Meanwhile, homegirl got way more than she bargained for. Let’s just say I hope she ovulates in a few short weeks. JK BTdubbs yeah right, “hello…this is America…” R.I.P. Alicia Silverstone being relevant…
…I totally paused….
The actual ceremony, or Havdalah service, was nearly ruined because they herded all of us Jews into a makeshift tent so we could watch the Scarsdale sunset. How Precious (based on a novel PUSH by Sapphire). Hurricane Schmul was on the warpath. And he wasn’t takin’ no prisoners. The winds whipped so hard that barely a word was audible. Yikes!
My cousins are totally spoiled. They are fun to hang out with, but man, I hope I didn’t sound that way at thirteen. One of my cousin’s friends, Maxi said, no joke, after stomping in the house like she was doing us a favor, “I really wish I had a machine so I didn’t have to walk.” That’s when my mother chimed in, “so you mean, a wheelchair?” Good one, Mom. Way to put a twelve year old Ke£ha fan in her place. You know what else is fucked up? The lack of musical knowledge in the youth these days. We gave each of my cousins BEATS BY DR. DRE headphones and upon receiving them they were like, “who?” Forreal, little cuz? “Nothin’ But A G Thing”? “Let me ride?” The Motherfucking Chronic? Chronic 2001? Mahhhh N****!!!!! UP YOUR GAME little cousins!
All in all, it was time well spent. I had a blast. Thank you to all who participated. Do I sound like Sandy Bullock winning a Golden Globe for THE BLINDE SIDE here? Oy.
Finally, I must give praise to Ratones, Ruthie, Jones and Jonno for showing me a most epic time. It was a most excellent adventure.
LET’S GO LAKERS!!!!
Game 4!
