The Maggid of Bergenfield

Purim: Queen for a Day

He loves the New York Giants. He sleeps in a Rangers jersey and plays ice hockey on Sunday nights with his buddies. Totally into classic cars. Likes scotch tasting.

 

The point is, David Frankel is a man’s man. His veins are coursing with testosterone.

 

So when David’s daughter Ahuva suggested that he dress up as Queen Esther for Purim, everyone thought it was an excellent idea.

 

“It will be a riot,” his son Daniel agreed.

 

“You will be the hit of the neighborhood,” his wife Geula concurred.

 

Why not? Purim was the classic time for dress up. The tradition of wearing costumes was part of the holiday. It symbolized how the events of Purim were a neis nistar, a hidden miracle. The whole story is one of miracles hidden within natural events.

 

And David was pretty sure his rabbi was o.k. with men dressing up in women’s clothes for this holiday. It might be frowned upon if he appeared in shul on Shavuot in a dress, but for Purim it was cool.

 

Ahuva had a friend named Shainde, and she was tall. Six feet, to be exact. Shainde was into the idea, and it just so happened that she had a full length gown that Ahuva thought would fit her dad quite well. Green sequins. Strapless (don’t worry; she wore it with a kiki riki).

 

Geula hired Malki Samuels to do David’s makeup. She had done a fabulous job for Tikva Pomerantz for her wedding. Everyone said she was the best, and David was going to need the best to pull this off.

 

The plan was to have him ready for the nighttime megilla reading. Their neighbor Danit Hershkowitz had volunteered an old sheitel. And she would throw in a tiara as well.

 

They started an hour before the scheduled davening time. They sat David in the kitchen, and Malki worked for quite some time. Cover up. Lots of cover up. Blush. Mascara. Eye liner. Even more cover up.

 

The gown fit him like a glove. Last was the sheitel. Geula had been styling it all afternoon. It was close to David’s natural hair color, so it didn’t require a lot of tucking .The tiara actually fit him nicely and complemented the dress.

 

Shainde’s heels also fit David. She clearly had big feet.

 

When all was ready, David stood and walked out into the living room for all to see. He had some trouble with the heels, but he did the best he could.

 

Everyone gasped.

 

“Well?”

 

“Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this,” Geula said, “but you’re beautiful.”

 

“Quite stunning,” Ahuva agreed.

 

“Who’d have thunk?” Malki Samuels said. ”I am a genius.”

 

David looked at them all skeptically. Then he walked over to the full length mirror in the hallway.

 

“Wo.”

 

“Dad, you’re a better looking woman than you ever were as a man,” Daniel said.

 

“It’s a Purim miracle,” Geula said.

 

“This is really weird,” David said. “I gotta sit down.”

 

“Are you O.K.?” Ahuva said. “You’re looking a little sick.”

 

“I was supposed to look silly. It’s a Purim costume, for heaven’s sake. I’m not supposed to look attractive.”

 

“Joke’s on you,” Ahuva said. “You’re stunning.”

 

“Robin Williams did not look attractive as Mrs. Doubtfire!” David shrieked. “And Dustin Hoffman was a hideous woman in Tootsie. Tyler Perry’s Medea is not good looking in the least! Why me? I will be a laughingstock among my friends!”

 

“I don’t understand why you would want to be an unattractive woman,” Ahuva said.

 

“Trust me. It’s a guy thing,” Daniel said.

 

“David, dear, this isn’t good,” Ahuva said. “You’re starting to look a little sickly.”

 

“Sickly?” David said. “That’s it! Malki, can I see you in the other room for a minute?”

 

They were gone for over half an hour. Megilla time was rapidly approaching.

 

“Honey, are you O.K.? We have to leave for shul soon.”

 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” David said from behind the closed door.

 

Malki came out first. She looked profoundly disappointed.

 

“Behold, the monster!” she said.

 

David came out with a different look. He still sported the dress, sheitl, tiara, and heels, but his skin was covered with red welts of makeup and splotches of green and brown. His face was a mottled mess.

 

“What happened to Queen Esther?” Geula asked, clearly disappointed.

 

“I’m not Esther,” David said.” I’m Vashti.”

 

“Vashti? You’re hideous!”

 

“Yes, and according to the gemara Megilla*, Vashti was struck with leprosy to prevent her from coming to meet Ahashverosh. I am that version of Vashti.”

 

“You do know that the Talmud Yerushalmi portrays Vashti as a positive figure who refused to bow to Ahashverosh’s crazy whims, right?”

 

“That’s not the version I’m going with.”

 

“You’re more the zombie apocalypse Vashti?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Malki shrugged. “I tried.”

 

Ahuva smiled. “You did your best, Malki. The problem is that you did too well.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

And so, the Frankels piled into the mini-van and went to megilla reading. David’s costume was a big hit with his friends. And David never dressed up as a woman again. Ever.

 

But based on the rumor that some pictures of Queen Esther Frankel may have been preserved on someone’s cell phone, David became the most attentive husband in the world. Ever.

 

 

*Talmud Bavli, Megilla, 12b

Tezaveh: The Suit

 

 

Shmot: 29:29

 

 

“There’s just no way.”

 

“But it’s tradition.”

 

“I don’t care. I just can’t do it.”

 

“Your father would have wanted you to wear the suit.”

 

Jonathan smiled. “There are many things my father would have wanted from me that I have chosen not to do. And this will not be the last.”

 

It was a tradition at the Dippin Donuts Company. When a new president of the company was chosen, he or she would wear the suit of the previous president to the first board meeting after the new appointment. Jonathan’s grandfather Melvin Dipinsky had worn his father Heiman’s suit to the meeting. His father Mark Dipinsky had worn Grandpa Mel’s suit. And he was expected to wear his father’s suit.

 

There was just one problem.

 

Mark Dipinsky had loved Dippin Donuts. Not the just the company; he loved the actual donuts as well. He ate many donuts a day. Crullers for breakfast. Jellies with lunch. Chocolate glazed for dessert after dinner. And after a while, this became a problem. At the time that he passed away, Jonathan’s father tipped the scales somewhere north of three hundred pounds. And Jonathan did not have a problem with that.

 

It’s just that Jonathan was a rather diminutive fellow. He didn’t eat the company products, and he exercised every day. He had a treadmill in his office, and he was often seen speaking on the phone with a client while chugging along on the exercise machine. He was determined not to end up corpulent like his father, alav hashalom. Or portly, like his grandfather, may his soul rest in peace. Or generously proportioned like his great grandfather Heiman, the founder of the Dippin empire, may his memory be blessed.

 

“I would look like a complete clown if I wore one of dad’s suits, Jonathan said to Solomon Dipinsky, his uncle and the Dippin D’s comptroller. Sol was also built a bit more on the zaftig side.

 

“Jonathan, you need to calm down. Here, have a donut.”

 

“No thank you, Uncle Sol.”

 

“Then at least have a donut hole. The cinnamon ones are straight from the kitchen.”

 

“Seriously. No donuts.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Fine, suit yourself. But you do have to wear your father’s clothes. It’s the tradition.”

 

“I don’t get it. I look exactly like my dad, in his younger days. I sound like my father. I even use his same corny expressions.”

 

“True, you do have your father’s horrible sense of humor.”

 

“Thanks, Uncle Sol. Coming from you that means a lot.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” Sol said, tossing his third donut hole into his mouth. ”Are you sure you don’t want one? They’re truly outstanding.”

 

“Stop it with the donuts, O.K.?”

 

“Sorry. But the suit is important. It’s like the Kohen Gadol. When a new lead priest was appointed, he wore the old Kohen Gadol’s garments for seven days. All eight of the garments. That’s what ordained him to the position. It’s a sign of the continuity of the Jewish tradition. The Torah really doesn’t specify the size of the kohen. I think the priestly garments were one size fits all.”

 

“Well, that is a miracle,” Jonathan said. “Maybe a robe is more forgiving than a Brooks Brothers suit, but let’s face it, I could fit me, my wife, and my two kids in my father’s pants, and there might be room left over for the dog.”

 

“Jonathan, this is important. Dippin Donuts is a family business, and our traditions run deep.”

 

“Hey, I have an idea. Doesn’t my mother still have some of my father’s clothes from when he was younger?”

 

“I imagine she does. Your mother never throws anything away.’

 

“True, so true. So does it say anywhere in the bylaws that I have to wear a suit my father wore in his later years, or just one of his suits?”

 

“I really don’t know. I think we would need to consult the lawyers.”

 

“Fine. Call Uncle Pinny. I’m sure wearing one of Dad’s suits from when he was svelte will fulfill the requirement. True, they’re off the rack, but I’m happy to take one for the team.”

 

“Interesting loophole!” Sol agreed. “I’ll call your uncle right away.”

 

“Thanks, Uncle Sol. Oh, and are there any of those cinnamon donut holes left?”

 

Sol peeked into the bag. “Just two.”

 

“I’ll take one. I mean, what’s the harm?”

 

“That’s the spirit, Johnny. You’re going to go far in this business.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Far and wide.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teruma: Doorknobs by Diane

Shmot: 25:33

 

 

 

It is said that the word Paramus means “land of the wild turkey,” in the Lenape language of the Native Americans of Northern New Jersey. Some say it means “pleasant stream.” I have always believed it meant “the land of the wild shopping mall.”

 

You can find a store in Paramus that sells almost anything. The Shade Store on Route 17 specializes in window treatments. The Dance Bag specializes in clothing for dancing, although they are also happy to help you with other exercise equipment as well. Batteries plus Bulbs sells just what you’d think. And Yankee Candle in Paramus Park sells, well, you get the idea. Of course there are misleading names as well. The Fossil Store has no geologic samples offered for sale. Anthropologie has nothing to do with “the study of human beings through time and space.” Wild Birds Unlimited is a tossup. Yes, it had bird feeders, but there are no actual birds in the store. And what people—especially Jews-- do in the Christmas Tree Store in February remains a mystery to me.

 

So as a native of Bergen County it should have come as no surprise to Walter Weinstein that on Route 4, just past the Hyundai dealership, there was a store called Doorknobs by Diane that featured only doorknobs. But it did. When his wife Rachel told him they were going to spend the morning shopping there for doorknobs for their new house, Walter thought she was kidding.

 

She was not.

 

It was a wondrous establishment, filled with every possible doodad you could possibly imagine to open a portal. Rows and rows of them. Walter was looking up at a doorknob near the ceiling that seemed to resemble a large emerald, when a salesperson appeared before him.

 

"Hello."

 

"And who might you be?"

 

"Walter. And you are?"

 

"I am Diane."

 

"The Diane?"

 

"One and the same."

 

Rachel then appeared from behind a display of brushed nickel knobs.

 

"Oh, I see you've met Diane."

 

"I'm truly honored," Walter said.

 

"Yes, I get that a lot."

 

"So to continue our conversation," Rachel said," I was looking for something bold for our bedroom. Something that would really stand out."

 

"Have you considered one of our estate knobs from the new Dynasty series? There is something truly striking in Venetian Bronze. And it comes with a six option lock set, if you truly crave privacy."

 

Diane popped it up on her iPad and showed it to Rachel."

 

"Hmmm. No, I think I want to go more traditional."

 

"Well then. I think you'll really like our fluted glass knob on a traditional bronze base. Not only is it elegant, but it can be linked to an Amazon Echo to lock and unlock remotely."

 

Diane showed Rachel another picture, and this time she oohed and aahed appropriately.

 

"That IS nice. Honey, what do you think?" Rachel handed the iPad over to Walter.

 

"I think this is a bit crazy."

 

"Surely you jest," Diane said.

 

"No, I do not jest at all, not one iota. I know that we live in the ultimate consumer culture here in the U.S., but even so, I just can't get that worked up over doorknobs."

 

Rachel gasped, and for just a moment, Diane looked like she was going to faint, but she quickly regained her composure. She was a doorknob professional, and she was not going to let a skeptic get in her way.

 

"You know, Walter, they say G-d is in the details."

 

"I have no idea what that means," Walter confessed.

 

"It means that whatever one does, one should do thoroughly, and that details are important. In fact, if you take the time to look you'll see that this week's parsha is filled with important details."

 

Now Diane has his attention. Who knew that a doorknob specialist would be giving him a dvar Torah in the middle of her showroom?"

 

"What do you mean?" Walter asked expectantly.

 

"Well, in parshat Trumah, when G-d tells Moshe about building the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, He gives so many design details, it's astounding.  When He describes the building of the shulchan, the table, He goes out of His way to describe the molding that should be built. What an astounding level of detail. And many of the commentators ascribe great allegorical meanings to all these details."

 

"Fascinating," Walter agreed.

 

"Oh, you have no idea," Diane said proudly. In the description of the menorah, G-d states that the arms should be decorated alternately with kaftor vaferach. A ferach is a flower. But do you know what a kaftor is, Walter?"

 

"A button?"

 

"According to the Artscoll translation, Walter, it's a knob. And according to the Soncino Chumash it's a knop."

 

"What on earth is a knop?" Rachel asked.

 

"It's a decorative form of knob," Diane said proudly.

 

"The Abravanel suggests that the seven branches of the menora correspond to the seven types of wisdom represented in the Torah, "Diane continued." And the cups, knobs, and flowers symbolize the various sciences that branch out from each other. That's just one of many interpretations that exist. But no matter how you look at it, knobs play a prominent role in the menora. They add to our appreciation of one of the most enduring symbols in our tradition.*

 

"So are you suggesting the Menorah was decorated with doorknobs?" Walter asked, rather flabbergastedly.

 

"I think you should draw your own conclusions," Diane said. "I'm just giving you the facts."

 

"So this somehow relates to our buying fancy doorknobs at your store?"

 

"That connection is entirely up to you. I just think that the symbolism of a knob may add meaning to your life, whether spiritual or intellectual. And if that comes from a beautiful doorknob, then so be it."

 

"Diane, you present a compelling argument," Walter observed.

 

"Well, I am the doorknob queen," she said semi-modestly.

 

"I would say that is a title you have earned beyond a shadow of a doubt."

 

"Thank you."

 

 

* Unlocking the Torah Text, Rabbi Shmuel Goldin, Shmot, pgs 234-5

 

Mishpatim: The Sweet Tooth

 

 

Shmot: 21: 26-27

 

 

 

“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you without my lawyer present.”

 

“Manny, we go back a long way. I think we can discuss this like adults without having to lawyer up.”

 

“Fine, but I don’t think there’s much more to discuss, Hyman.”

 

“How many years have you worked here at Darton’s Kosher Chocolates?”

 

“I’ve been here twenty-seven years.”

 

“That’s quite a long term of employment!”

 

“Yes, and most of them were happy years.”

 

“And you’ve been our chocolate taster all those years?”

 

“No, I started on the factory floor, managing the boxes and creating chocolate molds. It was only after you noticed my incredibly sensitive palate that you moved me to chocolate taster.”

 

“And were you always the chief taster?”

 

“No, I apprenticed under Fred Hammerschmidt for seven years, G-d rest his soul.”

 

“G-d rest his soul.”

 

[Appropriate moment of silence]

 

“And would you say we’ve treated you fairly?”

 

“For the most part.”

 

“From what I recall all your kids went through yeshiva day school and college thanks to your salary and benefits from Darton’s Kosher Chocolates.”

 

“Yes, that’s true. But now you’re forgetting all the contributions I’ve given to the Darton family that have enriched your life.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“You had never heard of nougat until I showed it to you.”

 

“I suppose that’s true.”

 

“And who came up with the seder mints?”

 

“I thought Sid in marketing did that.”

 

“It was me, Hyman. It’s always been me.”

 

“Well, that was a big product for sure! Many chocolatiers have made chocolate covered mints over the years, but the association with Passover Seder? That was genius!”

 

“So as you can see, I have been very valuable for Darton’s.”

 

“No one doubts that, Manny. We definitely appreciate your contributions. So then what seems to be the problem?”

 

“You know what the problem is, Hyman. It’s my tooth.”

 

“I’m sorry. Forgive me for being obtuse, but I still don’t get it.”

 

“Let’s review the situation, shall we? For the last three weeks I’ve had a nagging pain in my mouth. It’s been getting worse for the last few days.”

 

“O.K., I’m with you so far.”

 

“So I went to my dentist, and he tells me it’s a cavity that has now developed into an abscess. He thinks it’s not worth doing root canal, and wants to extract the tooth.”

 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Manny.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“But I don’t really understand what that has to do with your job here at Darton’s.”

 

“I guess you’re not that familiar with this week’s parsha, then.”

 

“Actually, I’m VERY familiar with Mishpatim. It’s my Bar Mitzva parsha, and I read it for the first time at Anshe Chesed of Hoboken forty-seven years ago this week.”

 

“So then can you tell me the pasuk in the parsha that deals with teeth?”

 

“Sure. The parsha states that if you have a slave, Ve’im shein avdo o’ shein amato yapil, lachafshi yeshalchenu tachat shino.”

 

“And how would you translate that?”

 

“And if he knocks out the tooth of his slave, or the tooth of his maidservant, he shall set him free in return for his tooth.”

 

“Need I say more?”

 

“Yes, I’m afraid you must.”

 

“I’ve been tasting chocolate for you for over twenty years. That’s a seriously high sugar job, with significant hazard for dental surfaces. Now I must lose my tooth. It’s as if you knocked it out. So now you are responsible for setting me free.”

 

“Huh! That’s an interesting interpretation of the pasuk.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And how do you interpret being set free?”

 

“Either full time disability or a generous retirement package.”

 

“While I totally respect your attempt to analyze the parsha, I beg to differ with your interpretation.”

 

“Oh? How so?”

 

“I would say that when G-d tells us to set a slave free if we knock out his tooth, He is saying that we must treat our workers with the respect that they deserve.”

 

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

 

“It’s also a small step against slavery, teaching Jews that every life has value, but forgetting that for a second, let’s focus on the worker for a moment.”

 

“Sounds fair to me.”

 

I believe that the pasuk is saying you cannot physically abuse your workers. You must treat them with respect, like providing them with excellent medical insurance, and a generous dental plan—to protect them against any toothy mishaps--as I have provided for you.”

 

“True.”

“You should also give them good retirement benefits like a 401K plan with matching funds from the company so that they can retire whenever they choose, whether their teeth are healthy or not. They can even retire early if they want to”

 

“Interesting. So you’re saying that, according to your interpretation of the parsha, I am not due for a bonus package because of my dental pain and suffering.”

 

“That would be a correct interpretation of my understanding of the parsha.”

 

“That also seems like a valid point of view on Mishpatim.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And you’re saying that perhaps I should get back to work now?”

 

“That might be a good idea.”

 

“Thanks, Hyman. It was very illuminating discussing the parsha with you. I’m going to go back to tasting chocolates now. And when you have a chance, I want to discuss with you an idea I have for a line of spicy jalapeno chocolates. Maybe we can tie them in to Passover marror somehow.”

 

“Sounds interesting. Write up a proposal and we can talk.”