Just between us two

Dear Effie,
I'm trying my very best to be a good Jew, but sometimes our family just doesn't seem to fit in. For instance, we only ever make it to shul for the High Holidays. I can't read Hebrew or cook a good brisket. Uncle Morrie drinks so much Manieschiewitz at Passover, he wouldn't know Elijah if the prophet sat in his lap - and frankly my niece is just hanging around with the wrong crowd at preschool. How is she ever going to find herself a nice doctor? Please help.
Yours Sincerely,
Yenta Tsuris

Dear Yenta,
Listen, don't you know there are some things we Jews just don't talk about? There's no sign-in book at shul. You think Hashem hasn't got better things to do than watch you every Friday? And when you do go, don't tell anyone you can't read Hebrew.

I know, when you were in Sunday school you thought you were such a Yiddishe Kop you didn't need to pay attention. Look where that got you. So now what you have to do is just practice moving your mouth in the mirror so the right sounds come out.

Here are a few to start with: S-H-A-L-O-M. S-H-A-B-B-A-T. B-A-R-U-C-H. And most importantly, A-M-E-N. If all you can catch is the tune, just hum politely and don't make trouble for yourself. If you hafta borrow someone else's siddur, don't stick your gum in it, spill kiddush wine on it or leave it on the bus. It's a prayer book, not an umbrella. And don't get too comfortable. Just to keep you awake at these places, you have to get up, down, up, down. It's like a modern dance piece – and you can never tell what you're supposed to do when if you don't recognize the rabbi's secret wink.

As for your cooking skills, maybe you didn't hear, but these days we got delis that cater. You take the label off, put the brisket in an oven tray, then take it to the table, who's to know? Oy, did I slave over this, you tell your guests. They'll feel so guilty, they'll be talking like you're Irma Bombeck. Or whoever that woman is who wrote The Joy of Cooking. The matzah ball soup is even easier. You boil some hot water, you add the chicken stock, you drop in the ready-made balls. Don't tell me it's cheating, this is 5766 we're living in here. You have to use the modern conveniences.

Speaking of the dinner table, this Morrie character, you don't think after all the shlepping he does all day, he's entitled to relax a little? It's a mitzvah to drink Manieschiewitz. But, maybe you need to remind him that it's Purim where you get confused – between Haman and Mordechai. Elijah, we should all know. He's been at enough of our dinner parties!

Now, as for your niece. Her folks clearly don't have the right connections – I advise you don't tell anyone you're related. But, on the side you should have a quiet word about little missy's playdates. God forbid she should be shmoozing with a bunch of momzers. You know on JDate these days they check right back to the early years. One false move and she'll be shacking up with some long-haired musician in a basement suite.

I hope I gave you some answers here, cupcake. Remember, all you hafta do is ask (but don't tell – and don't share this advice with your girlfriends, you think it comes cheap?)

Oh – one more thing. You can talk about the rabbi. But only behind his back.
Yours,
Effie

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