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(Continued from NEO CLASSISM PT. 4)
When I’m neither compulsively e-shopping nor immersed in unspeakable computer porn, the thing I like most to do is browse the Internet for the worst parenting cliches and sayings I can use on my son Ethan. Far from being one of those parents who SWEARS, ABSOLUTELY SWEARS to never say the retarded things I heard from my parents, I feel it’s my duty to not only pass on to Ethan the pearls of wisdom offered up by my stunningly unenlightened parents, but to improve upon them. Naturally, the ‘while-you-live-under-my-roof-so-you’ll-do-as-I-say!’ or ‘because-I-said-so!’ are constant, enduring classics, I find myself inexplicably attracted to the more obscure, Jewish or Yiddish sayings. Why, you may wonder, has Tod, the W.A.S.P. worshipping, nose-job-getting, secular fruitcake, who until VERY recently, thunderously adhered to his devout atheism, embraced his shitty, Jewish-Ashkenazi background? One could chalk it up to a steady diet of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF, YENTL, and FUNNY GIRL, or my shameless attempts at befriending Madonna, Demi Moore, Ashton Kutcher, and Britney Spears by pretending to embrace the tenants of Kabbalah. (I never met Madonna, Demi, Ashton, or Brtiney, but I did wear that fucking red thread bracelet for a week or so) In the end, I believe that no matter how far one tries to run from one’s ghastly background, the second you pump out that kid, hook or by crook, you invariably turn into your parents.
As I stood with my son Ethan in the seemingly boundless men’s department at Saks, and Patrick, the gayest sales assistant in America fluttered about us, Ethan continued to probe me about my newfound affection for the Los Angeles Dodgers. I struggled to find something, ANYTHING, that I could say to appease Ethan who was by now working my last nerve. All at once an ancient Jewish proverb appeared in my mind. I’m not certain where I dredged it up, it could have come from my long-dead Brooklyn grandmother, Natalie the dumpy Jewish girl on THE FACTS OF LIFE, or been one of my recent Internet ‘finds,’ but it seemed to my addled mind, wildly appropriate in this moment.
“Ethan,” I said theatrically, ” I have found in my long life that baseball is much like shopping, while I can run, I’ll run; while I can walk, I’ll walk; when I can only crawl, I’ll crawl. But by the grace of God, I’ll always be moving forward.”
I have no idea if my subterfuge worked on Ethan, but Patrick the gayest sales assistant in America applauded while a small tear rolled down his carefully powdered and rouged cheek.
(To be continued)
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