Merry Chhhhhristmas

A few years ago, Eric Cartman and the other South Parkers sang “It’s hard to be a Jew on Christmas”. Well apparently, it’s not so hard anymore. The other night, when I asked my son if he’d be joining us at our traditional Christmas Eve Chinese dinner, he hesitated and asked what time we’ll be going. He wanted to be back in new Haven in time for “The Matzo Ball”. I’d never heard of it; the price of being of this now “older” generation. He said it included lots of Jews, a few clubs and lots of drinking. I could see why a 22 year old guy wouldn’t want to miss that and was secretly pleased that all the girls there would be Jewish. (It’s an old habit.)
This morning, my subscription to the NY Times on line delivered this missive explaining all the events for those of us who will not be sitting around trees, opening presents or still waiting for Santa, gorging on seafood (love that Italian feast!) or whatever traditional suppers your denomination indulges in.

Young Jews will be amassing at such parties as “The Matzah Bowl” featuring music from such groups as “Bands of the Tribe”, “Days Like Months” (Are there 40 of them? Did they ‘literally’ create the band in 6 days and rest on the 7th?). There’s “Jewcy” at Jewltide 7 and the “swankier” annual “Matzo Ball” with a pre-dance sushi dinner! Could you imagine my Bubby at a sushi dinner? Boy, have things changed.

When I was a little girl I worried that I would be too old to enjoy New Years Eve at the turn of the century. It seems my worries were prescient after all, only it is Christmas Eve that I’ve missed. I love sushi! We’ll probably have it tonight. But wouldn’t I love to be out there partying with all those young people, dancing to Dan Saks and the Funkadeli All-Stars at Jewltide 7? I’m sure my handsome, ready-to-party son would cringe if I showed up at Matzo Ball New Haven. I’d probably only last an hour. Still, I love that it is happening. Gone are the days when we would hide out in our houses waiting for the inevitable pogrom. Going are the days when you can accidentally run into all the other Jews in town at the one Chinese restaurant in the neighborhood; we have seven now and they are Asian Fusion. We’re here and we are noisy! Merry Chhhhhristmas everybody! (You have to get that “chhhh” in the back of the throat, like a cat coughing up a fur ball.)