Hey Folks
just getting ready to run outa town but I thought I would leave you with this little ditty I wrote many years back for one of my columns and have rekindled several times since then around this time of year
it's my tribute to jews on Christmas
so here goes
Kitshmas
by Rossi
I like to think of being Jewish as a marathon sport. I can dole out a soul crunching guilt complex from a hundred yards, spot two people that just have to meet each other from a crowd of thousands and be counted on for any occasion to have enough left-overs in my refrigerator to feed Pittsburgh.
Eleven months out of the year I celebrate my Jewishness as my god given right to be neurotic-not to mention amongst the chosen ones-, but when Christmas season rolls around I feel like the only one locked out of a killer sample sale.
“Let me in! I’ve got credit!”
Suuuuuure. We’ve got Chanukah, 8 days of it. 8 days trapped in the living room while your parents discuss the time you were constipated for a week from too much egg salad. 8 days when your gifts are doled out agonizingly, one per day to keep you coming back for more.
Christmas always seemed so much more merciful. You have a huge Christmas Eve party, wake up, open your gifts, eat and leave. If you decide to watch television, every single program is custom tailored to your special day. Growing up, the closest I could come to a Chanukah program was the Twilight Zone marathon.
So what’s a Jew to do on Christmas?
You could get into the spirit of things, by making a Chanukah bush, but let’s face it, there’s something really depressing about a six foot Rubber Plant adorned with hanging dreidels, Moses statuettes and pictures of Barbara Streisand.
No, to really to beat the Christmas blues one must think bigger than Barbara. Which is why on December 25th of this year, I will be instituting the first annual Kitschmas. On the eve of this festive holiday, Jews in leisure ware-think Catskills by way of Loeman’s - will feast on a wide array of exotic canapés like liverwurst spread or anchovy salad and sip champagne punch with floating honeydew ball garnish.
In the morning the family will awaken, find the square on the Twister Board with their name taped to it and open their gifts. Aaah the splendor of it all; 20 packs of Ritz crackers with accompanying Cheese Whiz , Barbie in her mini-skirt faze, a Daniel Boone hunting kit and for mom; a complete set of matching polka dot Tupperware.
After a lazy afternoon of watching “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes” and “Revenge of the 50 Foot Cowgirl” Kitshmas dinner will be served and what a magnificent spread it will be. Pastrami Wellington, tuna fish casserole, ice burg lettuce salad, marshmallow covered sweet potatoes and fish sticks, lots and lots of fish sticks. Don’t forget to save room for dessert; a giant Jell-O mold shaped like Elvis and, of course, baked Alaska.
After dinner, we’ll sing show tunes around the fire. Then it’s Merry Kitshmas to all and to all a good night.
“Oy... now who’s going to help me with these dishes? All the years I slaved for you children and what do I get? Maybe one letter a year asking for money. 36 hours of labor and I don’t even qualify for a post card on Mother’s Day............”
