When I was younger, I thought it was funny to pretend that that I had “anti-Semitic Tourette’s.” Playing a board game, I’d roll five threes and yell –
Josh: “Nazi!” … “I mean, Hitler. Santa Claus! Mel Gibson!!!” {as if I can’t control it} “Sales tax!!! Happiness!!!” {slaps hand over mouth, then rubbing it in pain} “Ow……schwitz.”
Everyone kind of loved it. After all, I grew up in a very bigoted town in the South: San Bernardino.
* * *
I never really got a Jewish education. My Sunday school teacher was a Jew for Jesus named Rabbi Rob. He’d ask us –
Rabbi Rob: {beach accent, making the “hang loose” gesture} “All right, dudes. Who wants to learn about Moses?” {looks around, then} “Me neither. Let’s go surfing.”
Young Josh: “But Rabbi Rob, we can’t surf. We’re Jewish.”
Rabbi Rob: “Don’t you remember what Jesus told Moses? He was all, ‘Bro, if you can part the Red Sea, you can shred that shit.’”
Young Josh: “Could you at least teach us about the Holocaust?”
Rabbi Rob: “Sure I could…if it happened.”
My mom didn’t have time to educate me, either. She was always in the middle of something.
A divorce.
The rest of the time, she was too busy packing my lunch with ham sandwiches. I was like –
Young Josh: “Mom, when should I eat kosher food?”
Susan: “When it goes on sale.” {then} “In the meantime, just think of it as cham.”
Young Josh: “Am I at least gonna get a bar mitzvah?”
Susan: “You’ll get a bar mitzvah when you stop complaining.”
Young Josh: “So…I’m not getting one?”
* * *
In elementary school, I was the only Jew. Suddenly, I was the spokesperson for my people, which was scary because I only knew the stereotypes. The teacher would ask me –
Teacher: “So what holidays do you celebrate?”
Young Josh: “Um…the cheap ones?”
Everyone realized pretty quickly that I was clueless. They’d ask –
Everyone: “Do you know anything about your religion?”
Josh: “Of course I do.”
Everyone: “What’s Passover?”
Josh: “A religious holiday.”
Everyone: “What does it celebrate?”
Josh: “Trick question. Jews don’t celebrate.”
Everyone: “Well what’s it about?”
Josh: “Suffering.”
Everyone: “You wanna get more specific?”
Literally, I knew nothing. I mean, I honestly thought the song lyrics were, “Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel… / You haunt me everyday.”
* * *
Thank God for the bigots. They taught me some stereotypes I hadn’t even heard of –
Kid A: “My dad says Jews have horns.”
Asian kid: “Yes, and small penis.”
Kid B: “Hey Josh, is it true that there are sections of New York so heavily populated with Jews that matzo balls rain from the sky like snowflakes during feeding hours?”
Young Josh: “What?! Tim, that’s absurd.” {to Kid A, feeling my head} “Where did your dad say my horns were?”
There were actually Nazis in my elementary school: Nazi Ned, Nazi Nathan, and Nazi Schlomo. Those guys would taunt me, man. They’d be like –
Nazi Nathan: “Hey Josh!”
Nazi Schlomo: {singing} “Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel / I made you out of GAY!”
Young Josh: “Oh…heh heh…good one, Schlomo. Gay.”
Nazi Ned: “Do you even get it?”
Young Josh: “Yeah…s-s-screw the…gays — no, I don’t get it.”
Nazi Schlomo: “Forget it, Ned. Don’t waste your bigotry on this Jew bag.”
Young Josh: “‘Jew bag?’ Is that a derogatory term? I thought Jew bags were our mythic pouches of silver and gold.” {as they walk away} “Wait. Where are you guys learning this stuff? Your parents? Can I come over for a Nazi dinner? Tell them they can cook whatever they want into the oven. I don’t mind.” {OFF their faces} “What? Why are you guys laughing? No. Tell me. I want to be offended. I need you to teach me about the eight days of Heineken!”
Really, the only reason I knew anything about Judaism was because I saw a special holiday episode of Blue’s Clues.
Blue, the dog: “Ba-ba-ba-bow!”
Steve: “That’s right, Blue. It is a menorah.” {to the TV audience} “Can you say ‘menorah?’”
Young Josh: {to the TV} “Not in public.”
* * *
Eventually, my mom decided to embrace our religion a little bit and get a Hanukkah bush.…which is like a Christmas tree, except instead of smelling like pine or ginger bread or tree, it smells like suffering.
We didn’t have any ornaments, though; so, we just decorated it with things around the house: bagels, sinus medication, martyrdom.
That tree always seemed depressed to me, like it was thinking –
Tree: {Woody Allen type voice} “‘Put him in some water. He’ll live.’ Uch. This is not a life. On top of that, I’m a Juniper. How depressing. At least I’m away from all those other trees and their ‘burning bush’ jokes.”
* * *
In college, I took a few religion classes out of curiosity, but nothing seemed to work for me.
I studied Buddhism, I became a Buddhist; I studied Islam, I became a Muslim; I studied Scientology…and now I’m Jewish again.
The more I read, the more I saw similarities between all of these supposedly very different religions. They were all rooted in honorable intentions while still being somewhat pretty completely ridiculous.
* * *
Now I live in Los Angeles where you can’t walk two feet without running into a Jew. These people know that “Hanukkah bush” isn’t just another term for Hasidic pubic hair, and they understand my pain when I fill out an allergy form and circle the section that reads, “all of the above.”
But I don’t feel any different here.
As much as some people may try to connect with me by saying –
Person: {amazed and thrilled} “You’re Jewish? I’m Jewish!”
– it doesn’t change my opinion of them.
People are people, and I don’t choose my friends based on their religion; I choose them based on how likely they are to advance my career.
The way I see it, the world is just a collection of people trying to make it through the days and accomplish their respective goals, aiming to get by with minimum stress and maximum peace. If religion helps, great. And if it doesn’t, …you know, take some medication.
I don’t know. I don’t mean to make a big statement here; I guess all I want to say is this: if you see a Christian man and a Jewish man suffering on a street, don’t choose to help the Christian man simply because he shares your beliefs.
Choose him because he’s more likely to provide a financial reward.
* * *
I read the above to a Jewish friend of mine to get his opinion. He said –
Friend: “Josh, don’t think that just because you’re Jewish and you’re playing on the most basic and obvious of Jewish stereotypes that you can get away with saying some of that blatantly hateful material. Why don’t you throw in a line about how we Jews wanted the Holocaust to happen so we had something to complain about?”
I took a breath.
Josh: “Look Mordechai…if you don’t like what I have to say, you can go fly a kike.” {correcting myself} Kite! Kite! Sorry. Bad habit.”
