So this one older couple -- great folks -- moved to Oregon after years on the east coast. I met hubs randomly and he thought I was an interesting person to talk to, so he invited me over for afternoon hangout & drinks and whatever. Met his wife. She was a retired law prof. He was a retired shrink and psych prof. I loved them both. We talked about a bunch of things including my shul. Portland has some real hippy-ass congregations. I was a member of one that really is progressive as hell, but they don't have the hippy vibe. Real rabbi, relatively traditional services.
So right after this long conversation about shuls and Jewishness and Portland and how Portland could use some more Jewishness, they invited me to stay for dinner.
"What are you having?" I asked.
"Pulled pork," he responded, his lips neutral but his eyes crackling.
And look, I don't keep kosher, really, except to the extent that when you're vegan it's not always easy to break kosher ... except during Passover.
So every time Passover comes around and I think about inviting a friend over for pizza, just to tweak them, I think of my friends inviting their younger vegan friend to have pulled pork and what that felt like for me, like gravity just turned off under my guts.
And then? Then I call up a friend keeping kosher for Passover and ask them if they want pizza.
Because we Jews value tradition.
I haven’t been laughing much lately because there’s not much to laugh about but reading this? The very end, I snorted coke cola through my nose snorting laughing. Thanks for that.
for you-
A Zany Rhyme of East, West, and Everything Best
Once upon a time, not long nor far,
In the land where hipster beards are par,
An older couple moved to Oregon's green scene,
From the bustling East, to live serene.
•
Hubs met me random, by the street,
Thought I was neat, invited me to meet,
Over drinks and chit-chat flows,
Underneath Oregon's rainbows.
•
His wife, a retired law buff,
He, a shrink not to scoff,
Psyched about life, with minds so loft,
We spun tales as the afternoon doffed.
•
We jabbered 'bout shuls, and Jewish ways,
In Portland's misty, hipster haze.
My congregation, not quite free-spirit,
But a Rabbi real, we do revere it.
•
As talks of Jewish Portland spun,
They said, “Stay for dinner, join the fun!”
“What’s cooking?” I asked, with a little pun.
“Pulled pork!” he smiled; oh, what a run!
•
You see, I’m vegan, sort of kosher-light,
Except when Passover pizzas ignite.
That invite felt like a comical plight,
Gravity off, my guts took flight.
•
Now every Passover, with a cheeky tone,
I think of that dinner, and how I've grown.
I ring a friend, who keeps kosher true,
"Want some pizza?" Oh, what to do!
•
Because we Jews value tradition,
Even when it's full of contradiction.
In the land of Portland, with rain and sun,
It's tales like these that make life fun.
Chag Pesach Sameach!