Why, thanks for asking.
The Bar Mitzvah and party were grand without grandiosity. Spending the day with one of my favorite people and her family was a pleasure.
And the Bar Mitzvah boy? Well, my invitation to Jon Stewart's Bar Mitzvah got lost in the mail, but I'd bet his was somewhat like the one Cleo and I attended last week. BMB was the center of attention, he knew it, and he milked it for every laugh he could get. He emoted his Torah portion like an opera singer and at one point he broke into a song from Fiddler on the Roof.
Funny? Yes. Goofy? A little. Yet, it wasn't the least bit ridiculous -- more playful and joyful, which is how a Bar Mitzvah should be.
And they gave away some of the coolest yarmulkes I've ever seen, all shiny and copper colored; they matched the copper colored roses on the tables. Who knew roses came in copper? At first I thought they were fake.
The Torah portion had to do with the song of praise sung by the Hebrews after they crossed the Red Sea. BMB's speech had to do with whether miracles have ever occurred, or whether everything that happens should be explained logically without reliance on faith.
I've always believed in the George Burns version of G-d (which is how we Jews write the word that's spelled gee. oh. dee.)
"Oh, every now and then I work a little miracle just to keep my hand in. My last miracle was the 1969 Mets. Before that, I think you'd have to go back to the Red Sea—aaahh, that was a beauty."
Yet I also believe we're surrounded by miracles. I'm just not always sure where they come from. Physics? Maybe. Serendipity? Perhaps. Coincidence? Possibly. G-d? Could be. I think the miracles we experience every day, even the many we take for granted, come from a combination of these factors, and from some I haven't identified. Diana Spechler wittily demonstrated that miracles come in many forms, from the awe inspiring to the everyday:
"1. A miracle is unexpected, but never unpleasantly so. For example, a pigeon relieving itself on your hair when you've just stepped out of the salon does not qualify as a miracle. However, a pigeon relieving itself on a park bench, moments after you've risen from that park bench-now that's a miracle.
*Note: If such a miracle happens to you, do maximize your appreciation of it by telling everyone you see for the rest of the day that you got up from that bench when you did because you "just had a bad feeling." Ill-defined "bad feelings" often portend miracles.
2. If a person seems like he might die, but then he doesn't? Miracle.
3. If you get to a store five minutes before it closes, that's not a miracle, but if you get to a store five minutes before it closes, and Chanukah's about to start in an hour, and you haven't yet gotten your niece a present, and it's the only store in America, well. That's got the M-word written all over it.
4. If something good happens, but you can't figure out why it happened, feel free to call it a miracle. For example, if it rains all night before a wedding, but then clears in the morning just in time, that's a miracle. It's also a sign that the couple will never get a divorce.
*Note: When this type of love miracle occurs, you might overhear the phrase "meant to be."
5. Miracles are always meant to be. That's why they're miracles."
Can I add some to this list?
Corrective lenses; The Beatles; deep sleep; dolphins; Lucille Ball; finding something you'd thought was lost; ice cream; sleeping puppies; oxygen; magnolia trees; a clean bill of health.
I'm sure you have a few favorite miracles. What are they?
