Not a day goes by that I don’t think, “Of course he married a shiksa.”
This is what I think while watching television. Is that sick or what? Perhaps something has infected me. Maybe it was something I ate. But now all I can think about when I see a Jew on a screen is, “I wonder what he does for the High Holy Days.” At the book store, I’m always excited by books with the word Jew in the title. It could be anything. “Great Jewish Cosmetic Surgeons” will do. I laugh at Jewish comics. Lewis Black and Joan Rivers bust my guts like only my gastroenterologist knows how. I enjoy Jewish cuisine, I frequent delis and Jewish cookbooks line my kitchen.
This is a product of living away from Jews all my life. I’ve lived most of my life in WASP-Land. In quaint Connecticut my friends ask, “What’s a knish?” I die a little inside and respond, “It’s like a giant french fry.” True, Jewish celebrities live nearby. Henry Kissinger is a town over. I’ve never seen him at temple. Joan Rivers is around too. Arthur Miller died around here. But no one thinks to open a kosher deli.
This is my exile, wandering in Connecticut for 20 years. I live in WASP-Land and will consume anything Jewy, here on the outskirts of Jewland. My father is from the Bronx and my mother is from Yonkers. When they left the heart of Jew-Land, they didn’t intend to leave their people. What they got was some quiet and considerably fewer stabbings. What they gave up was a good sandwich.
So my local Holy Land is New York City. I go to New York and know I’m surrounded by Jews. I know that if I say a Yiddish word, someone, somewhere will know what the hell I’m saying. Until the day that I live amongst my people, I am Moses watching TV.
Geoffrey Edelstein is an arts and culture writer and the managing editor of The Acorn, Drew University’s student newspaper. This is his first blog post for New Voices, but he has reviewed “Zombies vs. Nazis” and “Happily Divorced” for New Voices.
