{not "bell, book, and candle"!}
i know there must be a name for tonight...when i dropped out on my way to becoming a rabbi, i let go of all that stuff!
hell's kitchen is not jerusalem, however one does see a variety of ethnic groups here still.
on my walk with ram dass (the dog, not the guru...well, he is my guru in reality, the way he loves me unconditionally!) each morning i pass a few moslem woman walking their kids to school, as well as the few hassids (which spell check wanted to correct to "hay seeds"!) who seem to have strayed from the diamond district.
there is one older one in particular who i have been acknowledging with a nod for several years. he always looks down (at the pavement)...maybe he is shy or timid, or go know, looking for collage material the way i still do occasionally. he always carries a brief case in one hand and small black bag in the other. it is this one that reminds me of the ones moils (official circumcisers) use...yes, i remember this "bris kit", above all ( and keep a safe distance...even if its his lunch box) !
one day a few months ago, he "noticed" me...and started to respond to my "good morning"s with a smile. last week he actually stopped and touched me on the arm saying, "one day we need to talk."
although we come from the same tribe ( if we sat down to discuss from where we have come, before we'd be getting back to adam, we'd find a common relative, no doubt) i however no longer identify with those old religious customs and beliefs...but my roots are my roots! i was never orthodox. i was brought up as a conservative, and yet now nothing can reform me any more than i am, for i am more like a "jew- bu" (a jewish buddist ), if anything - at one with all!
i do remember some observances.
[ i also remember the first time i ate bread on passover , as well as eating chopped liver on yom kippor, and having bacon with cheese (a double no-no ) and not being struck down by lightening! dating a shicksa was a bit different, dating a goy boy trickier, but dating a rabbi - oy, dont ask! ]
so on the night before passover, after all one's dishes ( for both meat and dairy, as well as any items that are not "kosher for passover" ) have been "sold" to a non-jew (until the end of the holiday when they are bought back) one goes around the home looking for any bread crumbs (that might have been over looked by the search party from the land of milk and honey) with a candle, a feather, and a wooden spoon. talk about a ritual for getting rid of stuff! to my mind, this is going overboard ( although, on the other side, i do have a few elderly black lady friends who worked as domestics, who tell me they got a whole new set of pots and pans, and dishes from their employers when they forget the change over)!
and so i got together the items in the above photo, put them in a beautiful sheer white bag with this poem, and when i saw my distant relative this i did pass over (the above and below) to him:
Happy Passover
a little gift
with which
to clean up
whatever chumutz * remains
with a prayer to wit
that The One above might
do with the Earth's schmutz **
the same, with Love.
and when i gave it to him, his eyes lit up like christmas trees, go know!
* anything with a leavening agent
** dirt
love you got
ps: on this day did i also pass over to my moslem woman friend a book for her childern all about egypt, her homeland. either the gods of egypt and israel love me for embracing each one, or love me for just the rite side of my brain...as a half wit; in any case, how can i go amiss - and if i have, dear god, hold the plagues, please, until i have risen!
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