How did I, Rav Papa, remember that today was the Hebrew Calendar date of my son’s first birthday? I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that it was not by my own memory, but truly of divine intervention. It started last night (the actual beginning of his Birthday) when I tried to write an article about Malchut (the final week of the Omer) It was coming out all wrong. I was connecting King David with Michael Jackson. Both tortured souls, a bridge between the feminine and masculine - it seemed like a good idea at the time. With every sentence I typed, I felt more and more like a bigger idiot. Thank G-d I had the discretion NOT to publish it.
More importantly, I was so busy trying to anticipate Malchut that I forgot about Yesod (this week in the Omer) and that it was Hod Sh’B’Yesod.
Fast forward to this morning, I was running a Beit Din for a conversion of a former student of mine who was ready to become a member of the Jewish people. This was an amazing experience in and of itself. Various unforeseen sets of circumstances conspired to bring me to this moment and to convene this court of three rabbis at the West Side Mikveh in Manhattan. The second rabbi was an established rabbi, while the third rabbi, like me, was a younger rabbi. He was also an old friend who also had a young baby just a few months after Benjy was born. When the third rabbi arrived to the Mikveh, the first thing he told me was, “Mazal Tov.” I assume he meant for the impending conversion, to which I was about to respond with a half baked smirk of confusion. I didn’t want to invite a k’ayna hara (the Evil eye) into the room. Our conversion candidate seemed ready, but you never can be sure, which is why we have these Beit Din’s ceremonies in the first place. But he wasn’t wishing a mazal tov for that. He said, “Isn’t today your Son’s first Hebrew calendar birthday today? Wasn’t Benjy born on the day of our wedding? Today is our Hebrew wedding anniversary. Hod Sh’B’Yesod.” By nature I’m a slow to react kind of person, but If I could have put to words what I was thinking when I realized he was right, I would have said, “GOT ME THERE!” I should have known this guy has an amazing knack for timing - he always has since I’ve known him. So it was on my son’s first Hebrew birthday and on rabbi number three’s first wedding anniversary, that we brought this woman into the covenant. Only after the fact we found out that it was rabbi number two’s thirty year anniversary of his ordination from rabbinical school!! Talk about truly celebrating the holiness of time.
So I owe a mazal tov to this woman who just converted, but also a debt of gratitude. For if she hadn’t decided to convert today, and invite me to run her Beit Din, I might have missed my son’s first Hebrew birthday EVER. That only happens once!
Rav Papa shaves! Lag Sameach Benjy. Your turn in two years.
Rav Papa co-starts in an “only in New York story”
Although something about it felt very San Francisco.
Today Benjy and I were on a NY Metro subway, the B-train. As we entered we looked to the right. An elderly woman and daughter smiled at us. We are strangely accustomed to smiles from strangers, especially when Benjy is wrapped up in his green cloth carrier covered by my overcoat. The kangaroo look is hard to ignore, especially for women I’ve noticed. Men ignore it quite easily.
Turns out we were not the most striking thing on the subway. As we turned to our left a woman was looking right at us. She had two noticeable features. She had a black handlebar mustache painted on her face and she had no clothing on from the waste up. I don’t know who noticed first, Benjy or me, that her two bare breasts were pointed right at us. I’m not sure if it was instinct or curiosity, but I did something I never would have/could have done, had I not had a baby strapped to my body: I sat down in the same enclave of subway seats next to this topless woman, not three seats away. Noone else in the car would dare sit near this mustached boob-streaker, but somehow, I decided I had what it took to reclaim the space. I think she was shocked. It’s not so polite to stare one someone’s rack, but someone forgot to tell Benjy. It had been a good hour since his last feeding. Usually when he sees naked breasts he knows its meal time! But everything was now out of context. Benjy could look by not touch. Luckily, this smart 11 month child realized that before incident. No words were exchanged between myself and Ms Topless, but I had no qualms about looking her in the eyes a few times as if to say, how are you on this fine morning? It was an unfair advantage as I could look at her in the eyes while my son stared at her uncovered cleavage. I can’t believe how comfortable I felt. It was almost a game of will, who would last longer. When she got up to get off at the next stop, I noticed she had a sweater in her hand. I guess the conditions of her life didn’t call for an upper garment at that time. Anyway, not sure what was up with the mustache, but as Benjy and I watched her walk off the subway, we had the feeling like won something. I have no idea what, but I do know that walking outside with a little child attached to your torso creates experiences that I have never encountered before in quite the same way. And that’s the naked truth.
