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Tallis? Tallit? Oh, Let's Call The Whole Thing Off

When a Jewish boy becomes a Bar Mitzvah, he usually wears a yarmulke and a tallit during the service.  A yarmulke is a skullcap worn mostly by Jewish men, although some women do choose to wear them.

The Pope wears one too, but I'm fairly certain he's not Jewish.

There's no specific law or commandment requiring Jews to cover their heads; rather, Jews who choose to wear yarmulkes wear them as a continuous reminder to respect G-d.  As Jews we're all about respecting G-d.  Respecting G-d is the basis for everything we do.  That, and food.  We Jews are also all about food.

A tallit (or tallis) is a four-cornered garment with precisely knotted fringes attached to each corner.  Jewish men (and some women) wear tallit in fulfillment of the commandment to wear fringes at the edges of garments as a reminder of the 613 mitzvot (laws or commandments) Jews are required to follow throughout each day and year.  You might ask yourself, Why are there 613 mitzvot?

Look!  A squirrel!!! 

Generally the mitzvot make a lot of sense.  There are commandments to love other Jews and not to hate them (two separate commandments; guess this concept is important), not to be superstitious (yeah, tell that to my grandma), and not to muzzle an ox while plowing. 

I have to wonder why the prohibition against murder doesn't appear until #482.  I thought this one would be important enough to show up in the Top Ten.

What?  Shut up.

In the olden days, when my mother was attending high school with Julius Caesar (thank G-d my mother doesn't read this blog), most garments consisted of large squares roughly the size and shape of bed sheets, so it wasn't difficult to attach fringes to the corners.  These days finding an appropriate way to place fringes on men's clothing is a bit more challenging, unless you had this in mind:

I love this coat.  I might even dream about this coat.

In cases where it might not be suitable to wear the knee-length indigo denim masterpiece, men can wear tallit.

So why am I bothering telling you this?

Because I made this for Robespierre:

It's his own personal tallit.  For his impending Bar Mitzvah.

This was supposed to be the back but Robey likes it as the front.  His tallit, his choice.

I knitted it.  Each row contains 300 stitches, so if you multiply that by the number of rows you come up with somewhere in the neighborhood of eleventy-billion stitches.  In fact, I enjoyed making it so much that I made it twice.  From start to finish.  Because the first time the edges came out curly and it looked girly* so I tore it apart and started allllll over.  I had a rabbi tie the fringes but I didn't want to put it on the floor with the fringes to take pictures of it, so these are the BEFORE shots.

I'm pretty proud of it, and of Robespierre.  It looks great on him and I know he'll do it justice when he reads from the Torah in June.

Soon I have to start knitting one for Cupcake.  Hers will have pink.

*Why isn't girly in my dictionary?  Spellcheck wanted girdle or Giraldo.

Where Have I Been Hiding?

Where have I been? Well, do you see that counter down there? Look down -- it's on the right near the bottom. See the thing that says "106 blah blah blah Bar Mitzvah"? I've been focusing on that stuff. For the past week I've been creating a video containing several million photos of Robespierre; eventually it'll also contain video clips, music, credits.  And it's going just swimmingly because I am a professional and talented filmmaker.

Oh.  Wait.  No I'm not.

Back to work.

Enter my Fame Contest!!

Wow - My Blog Is Relatively Self Sustaining

Apparently some goofballs check in here even if I have nothing to say.

Some of you might have missed me, while others are probably like "Fee who?"  I can't blame you since I've been incommunicado so long it's a wonder I remembered how to gain access to my own blog.  I promise I'll have something of substance to contribute to the information overload very soon; for now I'll just burden you with my list of excuses for not writing.

1. I thought my kids would NEVER go back to school, what with a snow day two days after winter break ended, and Robey's school's incomprehensible compulsion to give students EVERY. MONDAY. IN. JANUARY. OFF.  It's hard to write or concentrate with kids at home; if you don't believe me, you try it.  I'll send you some.
2. I've been having some work done on our house since mid-December, which has kept me busy inventing games like Endust-and-Pledge Skating to try to stay ahead of the dust.
3. Robey's Bar Mitzvah is less than six months away so my feet are getting closer to the fire.
4. I always start a new year by selling old stuff on eBay, starting this year with a vintage, mint condition Hermes silk scarf my mother gave me years ago (shhh -- don't tell her I'm selling it).
5. I've been helping Cupcake prepare for the spelling bee, studying something like 1800 words from 14 language sources (lederhosen?* gnathonic?* perestroika?)

*Spellcheck wanted leaseholder, spinsterhood, prognathous or pathogenic.  Funny -- these are (supposedly) actual dictionary words.

I'm back.  I think.

Are you back?  Are you sure?  How do you know?

Saving The Date, Creatively: Imaginative Save The Date Notices

Prospecting for Save the Date reminders to send to Robespierre's out of town friends six months before his Bar Mitzvah.  See Part I here.

We'd need only about a dozen or maybe 17 or, who knows, 20? save the date notices, just for guests we hope will travel to Robey's Bar Mitzvah; everyone else will already be in town.  In a rare moment of clarity I recognized that we weren't limited to a plain reminder card; I could send something more imaginative at cost from FeeFiFoto.  

First I thought I'd create personalized calendars with photos of Robey on each month and the date of his Bar Mitzvah highlighted.  But then I realized that, while calendars are a great gift for aunts, uncles, and grandparents, his friends might not be as impressed with 12 months of Robey as they would be with Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, so the calendars might just languish in desk drawers.  Plus, how many photos of a boy in a cap from his favorite baseball team can you include in a calendar before you have to resort to the Puffy Chicken costume?

 

So much for calendars.

Next I considered greeting cards, which are easy and very inexpensive to produce and mail.

Cards are nice.  We keep most of the holiday cards we receive every year so Robey and Cupcake can keep track of how their friends and relatives have changed over the years.  But a greeting card just didn't seem to be impressive enough to hold the attention of teenagers, and since we needed only about a dozen we could afford to be a little more avant garde.

Cards -- nope.

What to send?  What is it that 13 year old boys might use for years to come, that might not actually embarrass them, that might be cool enough to compel them to cross state lines in Robespierre's honor?

I considered mouse pads but Robey's friends probably have their own mouse pads and might not find it cool to use their friend's Bar Mitzvah invitation to navigate Facebook*.

A mug, perhaps?  Mugs are nice.  They're portable.  Unless they routinely slurp from the garden hose, most people use cups or mugs for their Ovaltine or YooHoo*.  And the cost wouldn't be prohibitive, since we don't have to send one to every potential guest, but only to those who are likely to have some kind of conflict coming up and need to plan far ahead.  The list couldn't possibly include more than ten people... or a dozen... or, wait a minute, we forgot to add a few friends but no more than 30... and let's not forget the German exchange student and the counselor from Scotland... 

At least it's still less than 50. So far.

Egads -- if all these boys come in, what am I going to do with them?  It's a safe bet that we won't spend the weekend watching You've Got Mail and doing manicures...

*Spell Check tried to pull off saltiness, Valentine, facetious, Yokohama, and boyhood but strangely, not Yahoo.

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Remembering Not To Forget: Sending Save The Date Reminders

Ever have two, or three, or infinite opportunities that all arise on the same day?  How do you choose?

Robespierre has blindsided me in the midst of Bar Mitzvah preparation, which diverges from planning a war mainly in degree of spontaneity; planning B'nai Mitzvot (plural of Bar Mitzvah.  You just learned something) must be conducted many months in advance, and requires you to predict weather conditions, which of your child's friends will still be his friends six months from now, your weight, and who might be maneuvering selfishly for a share of your guest list by thoughtlessly planning competing B'nai* Mitzvot on the same weekend.

Through all stages of planning so far, we haven't encountered many conflicts.  One friend is planning a Bar Mitzvah the same day but the guest lists don't overlap too much, except that Click, my sister's husband, seems to think he'll be able to attend both so the other family has offered not to invite him but I suspect he'll try to show up anyway and knowing him, he'll pull it off.  Robey's Bar Mitzvah comes just after the end of the school year so we won't have to work around school nights or homework or exams.  The weather in early June should be pleasant and reliable unless we run into a particularly aggressive tornado season, in which case we'll probably have more important things to worry about than lox and gefilte fish (don't ask -- you wouldn't like it).  We don't have a lot of out of town friends or relatives (Hi Linda!) so I've been planning an extended weekend without devoting much thought to coordinating varied travel schedules.

But.

There's always a BUT, isn't there?

Unbeknownst to me, Robespierre's been cultivating a kudzu-like list of camp friends from out of town who absolutely MUST be invited and will most likely end up staying with us when the weekend rolls around.  To further complicate matters, Robey's Bar Mitzvah date falls less than a week before the start of camp, when parents are finalizing arrangements for a two month stay at a Mediterranean resort packing trunks and duffel bags, fitting in last minute haircuts and orthodontist visits, and self-addressing stationery that will come back two months later crushed but otherwise unsullied. 

Here's the equation in case you've lost your bearings, and I don't blame you because I'm rapidly losing mine and I have all most some of this stuff neatly organized in a binder:

2 3 7 13 17 Out Of Town Camp Friends

notice clever use of prime numbers for no reason except my impulse to prove I know them

+

Event Occurring Between End Of School And Start Of Camp

=

Ruh Roh.  Will ANYONE Attend Robespierre's Bar Mitzvah?

Save The Date notices.  We'll need them. 

Thanks for the tip, Liz.

Save the date.  Hmmm.  Save. The. Date.  What to send that would be smart, memorable and keepable? because I'm all about mementos.

Tell you tomorrow.

Spell Check offered Banzai or hobnail.

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In honor of Black Friday, Cyber Monday and, what the heck, Cyber Week, through December 5 Order Personalized Photo Ornaments from FeeFiFoto before midnight on December 5 and receive 20% off. Apply coupon code ORNAMENTS09 at checkout.

Offer Expires: December 5, 2009

Staying In Hotels At Home: Blessing Or Curse? Discuss.

Does anyone besides me get the willies from staying in a hotel in one's home city?

Cupcake and I spent the night in a hotel last night.  In our own city.  Cupcake loves hotels and I like them pretty much, but staying in a hotel in my hometown makes me uncomfortable, gives me the willies, and frankly depresses me more than a little.

Robespierre left yesterday morning to attend a friend's Bar Mitzvah weekend extravaganza blowout in Chicago.

By the way, were you aware that when a flight is abruptly canceled with no notice just as you're waiting for it to board and the lady gets on the PA system and you think Great -- it's about time and instead she announces that the equipment is out of service and the flight has been canceled so everyone needs to line up politely and wait their turn to get onto another plane, the best things to do are:

1. Call your mother and have her get on the phone to the airline

2. Call your father and have him get on the airline's web site

3. Call the airline yourself from the airport

4. Disregard tips 1 through 3 inclusive because unaccompanied minors are the first to be booked on the next flight

Yeah.

So Robey left for Chicago and Cupcake and I spent the night at the Hyatt, not completely out of vanity and extravagance but also because spending the night downtown made sense, since Cupcake's choir was scheduled to perform at a convention and she needed to be at the convention center by 7:00 am.  We checked into a hotel so we could get up in the morning, have breakfast, walk to the convention center, sing (her), watch (me), walk back to the hotel, get in the car and go home.

By the way, Hyatt?  That thing about charging $19 for overnight parking and then boasting that it's so worth it because we get in and out privileges?  Kind of uncool.  Cupcake was funny though: Even in Monopoly you get Free Parking.

Cupcake was all excited about spending the night in a hotel and ordering room service but we ended up in the restaurant where the food was way too delicious to be healthy.

By the way, Ruth's Chris?  That thing about making customers listen to the history of the chain including the recitation of Ruth's Chris locations around the world including Japan?  Really uncool and borderline creepy.  But our waiter's name was Adonis and the name kind of suited him, so I forgive you but don't let it happen again.

After dinner we called my parents to check in, and then called my nephew, who was spending the night at our house to watch out for Miss Puppy.  And this is the part where I get a little depressed.

By the way, Stretch?  I'm really reeeeally REALLY sorry Miss Puppy gave you so much trouble.  Apparently I'm the only human being in the entire world who can convince her that she's not allowed to bark and cry for attention in the middle of the night.  I hope the potato omelet I made for you this morning helped you forget how incorrigible she was and how tired you are.

Staying at a hotel in my hometown makes me feel as if I've somehow been exiled from my own home.  I know it was necessary and having the company of the Cupcake kept me from being lonely, but I was really glad to get home this morning.  I woke up several times during the night, wondered where I was, and then glimpsed a well-known local landmark outside my window and thought Oh yeah -- I'm at home but not really at home.  Weird.

What is it about kids and room service?

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A Nice Jewish Boy And His Music: They Say You Can Make Music With Almost Anything

My clever, and possibly twisted, son has figured out how to blow on a dog bone as if it were a shofar:

Does anyone know what colleges offer scholarships for this type of skill?  Perhaps he play in the marching davening band?

Bar Mitzvah Planning Continues

Balancing celebration of a rite with the importance of the rite itself

The most important piece of the puzzle seems to be falling into place: Robespierre actually appears to be feeling more receptive to the idea of completing this milestone Jewish rite.  I believe he's beginning to recognize the value in Judaism as the basis of a community with goals and motivations similar to his own.  He's beginning to understand that he has something fundamentally in common with Jews around the neighborhood and around the world.  Just as important, he's beginning to value the connection.

Meanwhile, party planning rolls along at a fast and efficient pace.  So far we've pinned down:

• Date -- Saturday June 12, 2010
• Time -- morning, even though I am decidedly not a morning person.  Wonder if I should consider having makeup tattooed on my face before June?
• Post service brunch for adult friends and relatives, and out of town guests -- fnersjkvysdkri as entertainment (sorry -- Top Secret)
• Commemorative video -- so Top Secret that I can't even begin to explain how Top Secret it really is.  Oh!  Oh -- I know!  You know how MI6, "Her Majesty's Secret Service," was not even acknowledged to exist by the British Government until 1994?  Kind of like that.

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• Party for kids only -- Sunday June 13, 2010
• Location -- Warehouse Entertainment Complex recently opened by a DJ who apparently is so locally famous that he's known only by his first name.  I'm not sure he even has a surname.
• Menu -- Slider bar
• Invitations -- so Top Secret that if I told you, not only would I have to kill you, but I'd also have to kill myself for telling.

What do you think of my progress so far?  And what's your opinion on preemptive makeup tattooing?

If Linda Were Reading This Post...

She'd gladly tell me where she got the elegant yarmulkes she distributed at her son's Bar Mitzvah.

Wouldn't she?

Still Chugging Away With Bar Mitzvah Planning

Hey Blogfans.  I need feedback and opinions here.  Has anyone had any experience using Evite to send invitations to a Bar Mitzvah party?  I'm talking about a party exclusively for kids, not anything to which adults would be invited.  Have you used it?  Seen it used?  Pros and cons?

I promise, my feelings won't be hurt, no matter what you say.  Unless you insult me personally, and why would you?  If you think this is the dumbest idea you've ever heard, feel free to share it with anyone you know.  Just not me, please.

Thanks friends.

Bar Mitzvah Debriefing

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.

Housekeeping: I'd Rather Do It Here Than In My Actual House

First, I'm suffering from a cold that makes my head feel like it's filled with cement, so if I begin to appear incoherent please bring me some frozen pasta and glue 51 cent stamps to my wrists until October gleegle frhisogrn... umm, wait -- was that incoherent?  Sorry.

Second, thanks to everyone who sent best wishes to my dad: Daisy, Nessa, Fisher, Jack, Lynn, Lydia, Carol, Mom, Alice Audrey, Jamie and Ruthie.  We got better news than we had hoped for.  As you may know, after bypass surgery the new and remaining arteries develop additional small channels that help supplement established blood flow.  One of these small tributaries has closed up but there's no need for repair; the Man From D.A.D. went home at the end of the day and enjoyed all of Sweet Talker's weekend Bar Mitzvah festivities.

Bette Davis's Eyes Had Nothing On Cleopatra's: Choosing Eyeglasses For A Child

Found out a few days ago that Cleo might need glasses.  She'd been complaining that she couldn't read clocks so I took her to the pediatrician and they recommended she see an eye doctor.  The earliest appointment I could get was January 2; we have a strict family policy of needing medical attention or appliance repairs primarily during holiday weekends, so the Christmas season is the Holy Grail of inconvenience for us.  In fact, we've hit the inconvenience trifecta this time, since January 2 is also smack dab in the middle of Sweet Talker's Bar Mitzvah Weekend Musical Extravaganza.  We've already chosen three frame candidates so we can zip down the street between Bar Mitzvah festivities to order the specs if she in fact needs them.

I'm sad.  I always supposed my kids would need glasses; I wear them, as does every member of my family, so it seemed inevitable.  But Cleo!  Cleo has THE. MOST. GORGEOUS. hazel eyes I've ever seen, the exact color of gingerbread cookies.  They're irresistible and it's a good thing she's not on the Dark Side, since she can charm me into doing practically anything she wants just by turning those big browns in my direction.  And now those stunning golden masterpieces will be hidden behind spectacles.

Sigh.

Bar Mitzvah News: The Location Has Been Chosen

Looking for a Bar Mitzvah party location

Before Curley even had a chance to step up to the plate, Robey decided that the Unusual Museum would be acceptable for his coming-of-age fest.  His conversion ended up coming after lots of persuasion and silent treatment easily, and only six months since I began running the idea up the flagpole every day.  He and Cleo consulted with the Cool (or is it Hot?) Former Babysitter, who told them that her high school had held a prom there, and any place that was suitable for a high school prom was good with Robey.

I'll save Curley's influence for another day.

In other news, I interviewed and selected a photographer who I think will be perfect.  His work is creative and fun, and the albums are full of funky digital collages.

Who says planning a Bar Mitzvah is hard?  Piece of cake.  I have everything under control

Don't I?

Read more about the fits and starts of our Bar Mitzvah planning:

Our First Site Visit
Location, Location, Whatever
Update on Bar Mitzvah Plans
Would Somebody Please Take my Mother to Lunch?
Planning a Party Two Years In Advance

Update On Bar Mitzvah Plans

Election Standings prior to yesterday:

In favor of the Astonishingly Unusual Museum in an abandoned warehouse:

Me*
Curley**
Stretch
Sweet Talker

*It was my idea. Of course I think it's a good one.
**Always envious supportive of my superior creativity, she endorses my daring.

Opposed to the Astonishingly Unusual Museum:

Schpilkes+
Robespierre++

+What do you mean you don't want to hold it at the country club!? Who's ever heard of a Bar Mitzvah party not being held at a country club?!
++Yeah, what she said!! What about my reputation?

Undecided on the issue of the Astonishingly Unusual Museum:

Cleo~
The Man From D.A.D.~~
Click
Artypants

~What's in it for me?
~~Whatever you want, honey.  I trust your judgment.

Would Somebody Please Take My Mother To Lunch?

Because, seriously, her increasing obsession over concern about Robespierre's Bar Mitzvah is beginning to wear on me.

My treat.

Our First Site Visit

No, not a web site -- we're looking at Bar Mitzvah party sites.

There's an astonishing museum in our city designed and built in an abandoned warehouse by a madman who apparently never outgrew playing with Legos.  It opened about ten years ago with a kind of indoor playground that resembles what I imagine a Dungeons & Dragons set might look like (not that I have the vaguest idea what Dungeons & Dragons is like -- I was a different kind of nerd.)

There are fountains and hollow trees and haunted caves and rope ladders, all made from discarded building and restaurant and factory components and decorated with wondrous mosaics made from broken dishes and glassware.  There's a slide made from the closely spaced rotating thingies on conveyor belts, kind of like these, except without the wimpy padding and each one painted with abstract designs:

Location, Location, Whatever

 

Photo from alvingigi.com 

The quest for the ideal Bar Mitzvah party location begins.

Schpilkes assumed I'd shove the whole Bar Mitzvah ordeal celebration onto her lap and let her plan it, as she's really good at party planning and she knows how much I hate it.  Not just hate it -- I fear it.  While my sister, Curley, throws a party every chance she gets, even letting my kids throw their parties at her house, I restricted myself to holding the celebration for our grandmother's birthday, which was on July 4.  Entertaining on Independence Day is easy, as expectations are very low.  I'd provide cold cuts, potato salad and cake, which I let the kids decorate, and voila: par-tay.  But throwing a Thanksgiving dinner or a Passover seder?  ::shiver::  No way.  My family discourages me from trying, since they know I'd freak out so extravagantly they'd have to do all the work anyway and clean my house before and after.

I just want everyone to like me.  That's why, in addition to not entertaining, I'm reluctant to choose restaurants or movies in case my companions blame me if they don't like my recommendations. 

But now I really have no choice -- as much as I'd rather send an invitation with a contribution envelope and call it even, I can't.  A Bar Mitzvah calls for a celebration.

So, I'm prospecting for the ideal location.

See also:  Planning A Party Two Years In Advance

Where do you think I should have it?

Visit FeeFiFoto for personalized photo gifts.  We can't help you choose a location but we can provide all kinds of fun personalized Bar Mitzvah party favors.

Planning A Party Two Years In Advance

Commencement of Bar Mitzvah planning

Last week I received a letter confirming Robespierre's Bar Mitzvah date, in June of 2010.  For anyone who doesn't know, a Bar Mitzvah is a ceremony where a thirteen year old Jewish boy (for the girls it's called "Bat Mitzvah") reads passages from the Torah in Hebrew; it signifies a child's transition to all the rights and responsibilities of Jewish adulthood.  Before and after the ceremony there are approximately eleventy celebrations, each requiring new clothes for everyone involved, as well as photographers, videographers, bands, decorations, speeches, party favors, and oh yes -- food.  Meanwhile, a mortified terrified 13-year-old is expected to work the crowd with the ease of Barack Obama; on the other hand, the scope of gifts is astonishing.

So you know how The New York Times reports that the United States Olympic Committee will be preparing three meals a day for American athletes this summer in China, including beef, chicken and pork from Tyson, Frosted Flakes from Kellogg's, and more than 6000 pounds of ice a day?  Planning a Bar Mitzvah is like that.  Only way more complicated.  Especially for those of us who get stressed out even thinking about going to a party, much less throwing one a whole weekend full of them.

eek.

Do you like planning parties?  If so, would you like to plan this one?  Pretty please?

Visit FeeFiFoto to create lovely personalized photo gifts for Bar Mitzvahs and Bat Mitzvahs.