Are You Talking About Cheeses of Nazareth?

Ancient Nazareth
Native Nazareth?

by Richard Oxman

A young Jewish man gets married to a Native American woman. His mom freaks out.

When the mom finds out that her only boy — on top of *that* — has decided to live on a reservation with his bride…she stops speaking to him. Threatens to disown him.

After 9/11, the son telephones…trying to break the ice (at a time when there seemed to be a window of opportunity respecting estrangement in families coast-to-coast). He did have *other* news, additional news…from where they had left off.

He and his wife were expecting a baby!

So…though there still was tension in the air, they did start talking once again.

Nine months later…another call: “Just wanted you to know that last night my wife gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I also wanted you to know that we talked it over and have decided to give the boy a Jewish name!”

In spite of the fact that the mom had to restrain herself on the question of circumcision, she jumped for joy with her words over the phone. “Oh son, this is wonderful,” she gushed. “I have been waiting for this moment all my life. You have made me the happiest woman in the world.”

“That’s great, mom,” replies the son.

“And what,” asks the mom, “is the baby’s name?”

“Smoked Whitefish!”

If you try to please your parents (teachers, neighbors, colleagues, peers…and so on) on matters that mean the most to you, you’re not gonna make anyone happy, are you? I mean once Smoked Whitefish grows up, he’s gonna do way worse than not call home enough, yes? Gonna go some route that’s quite a hoot, and quite a distance further than that boy named Sue.

Which reminds me…if you’re lookin’ for *reconciliation* in This Life, you might as well go around askin’ where you can get good Jack in Palestine these days.

“Monterey Jack” Richard Oxman is dueleft@yahoo.com, not very far from where the next bus is gonna blow in Tel Aviv. And he’s lookin’ in the Torah these days — when he’s not offering up postings at www.oxtogrind.org — trying to find where it instructs readers to not worry like Woody Allen over allusions and the like…as long as they’re getting a few laughs, and getting a few insights into illusions.
Johnny Cash
Johnny Cash - “Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad”