U N L O A D E D

Last week I had the chance to celebrate the Jewish festival known a Purim. This is a very loud and happy time that unfolds in synagogues around the world. The best thing about this day is not the fact that you can dress up in costumes (I did not) or the fact that you can get very loud, rather the true joy is that you COMMANDED to drink heavily! I love this. But before any of that could happen there are the informal formalities of the Purim service.

Purim is a festival celebrating the Jews escaping certain death while in Persia and the story is told in the biblical book of Esther.

In the twelfth month, which is the month of Adar, on its thirteenth day ... on the day that the enemies of the Jews were expected to prevail over them, it was turned about: the Jews prevailed over their adversaries. - Esther 9:1

Got that? Good. The book of Esther is read aloud at the Purim service and everyone gets loud and nutty while it's being done. Esther was said to be a hot Jewish babe who was pimped out by her cousin Mordecai to the King of Persia who dug her more than the other babes in his harem. She became queen. There was a hitch; the king (Ahasuers) did NOT know that she was Jewish. Save that for later, it's important.

A jackass named Haman, who was an adviser to the king, got pissy because Esther's cousin Mordecai wouldn't bow to him. Well, that was enough to send this insecure prick over the edge and vowing to kill every Jew in sight and beyond. The king left the fate of the Jews up to Haman since he so keen on this undertaking. But remember our friend Esther is with the king and is a secret Jew of sorts. Her cousin convinced her to talk to the king and smooth this out. You know, use his kingly powers to calm this Haman guy down a bit. She succeeded (at great risk to her safety) and Haman was hung by the neck until dead with the noose set aside for Mordecai.

Ah, the irony!!!!

As this harrowing tale is being read, we are all given noise makers to cheer whenever Esther is mentioned and boo whenever Haman is mentioned. Below is an illustration of the festivities.













The Rabbi dressed as Dumbledore from Harry Potter fame begins the reading.












Me holding the Purim service book containing the Book of Esther and a small but powerful noise maker.











Children scurry about the aisles during the reading with great urgency but no sense of purpose.








To keep the children from drowning out the reading with the noise makers a DON'T WALK sign is put up signaling that it is NOT time to make noise. A WALK sign indicates that it's OK to make noise. The signals were mostly ignored and the sign broke halfway through the reading. The Rabbi then had to yell "YAY!" and "BOO!" to let us know when it was proper to get rowdy.











More children scurrying about aimlessly. I almost stepped on one while trying to snap this picture.




When it was all said and done, the screaming and noise making had left me with a splitting headache. Already knocked Silly from a very stressful day of work, I was not ready for this. Others who knew me and saw the bags under my eyes asked. "Are you going to be OK? It's going to get really loud in her."

Yes it did, but it was fun. I did fulfill my heavy drinking commandment, but not until I was well rested. Next year I'll be more prepared.

Coming up.....

The drive.

Also....

How lovely is a woman with long red hair?

And...

Are women more ready to rumble than men?

With Valentines day just around the corner, I suppose it was only a matter of time before some in my local synagogue decided to take it upon themselves to find me a "nice Jewish girl" or at least try to. I suppose there are some benefits to this like not being served pork chops when it's time to meet her parents for a nice dinner or not being cajoled into celebrating Christmas and belting out Silent Night while pounding down eggnog. Then again, this is America where plenty of Jews will eat pork chops for dinner and sing Silent Night around Christmas time because.....it's a free country.

However, it's more than likely that this is not the type of women the matchmakers at my synagogue have in mind. No, they will only select a girl steeped in the traditions of Judaism and can quote the Torah as if she wrote it herself. From there I will be expected to marry her and produce numerous offspring to carry on the traditions of Judaism by sending them to Hebrew school and such. Tradition must be preserved!

Now ladies and gentleman, there is nothing wrong with this if that's your thing. But this is Ricardo we are talking about here and my mission (missionary?) statement has always been the same. I have said it here and I will say it again for all of you:

The Ricardo welcomes beautiful women of all races, creeds and colors.

That has been my way, it has always been my way and will continue to be my way. I've never been of the thought process that we should all just stick with our own. It's boring and I would have deprived myself of many a steamy moment with women of numerous races and backgrounds. The differences are the spice of life. They teach me something new, exciting. It's an adventure and makes me feel more worldly.

I WANT to run my hands up and down the endless legs of a tall blond in Reykjavik!

I MUST HAVE the sweet decadence and soft skin of a Tokyo starlet!

I WANT to sample (further) the well toned body of a woman in Sydney or anywhere in Australia! And I'm not just referring to the wonderful pictures I see of my muse, Nurse Myra!!!

I WANT to burn red hot and see the pink of a babe in Red Square!!

I WANT to explore and shag a buxom beauty in Great Britain!

I WANT to love the taste of curry in the morning with a rose in India!!!

Argentina, South Africa, Canada...wherever!!! There's a lot I have to do before I check out. And since I can fucking breathe again post Advair, I'm more than ready. And most importantly, I DON'T WANT TO SETTLE DOWN!!!

(looks at all of you to make sure you've gotten my point before continuing)

And now back to my story.

The Matchmaker

A service at my synagogue had ended, I was on my way out the door when an older man stopped me. In this case, I encountered a male Yenta, if there is such a thing. Also, that is what others have designated him as so this is how he will be referred to for the sake of our tale.

Male Yenta: Good Shabbos. I think we need to find you someone. You single?

Me: I am, yes.

Male Yenta: You far from here?

Me: Nope. 10 minutes maybe.

Male Yenta: Good! I think we can find someone for you. Shall we?

He gestures toward the hall where refreshments and snacks are served. It's also used for parties and gatherings.

Male Yenta: Figure....she's gotta be living on her own. Good job. Not too needy emotionally or with the money. Around 5 foot 7 for you. Not too short, you're kind of tall.

Me: I......

Before I can say anything he has lead me to the Head Yenta. This woman is known throughout the synagogue for making many a match for the single folk.

Male Yenta: (to Head Yenta) So what do you think? This young man here. Can we find someone for him?

Head Yenta: Oh, I think so.

Male Yenta: No one too short. She's got to be on the taller side and with a job. We don't need her breaking his bank.

Me: There's not much of a bank to break.

Laughter among all of us as in the back of my mind I think...."um....what is this shit?"

Head Yenta: I prefer to go the emotional route to see if there's a connection. I'm sure there are some you will like. I love doing this and I have a great track record.

Male Yenta: Yeah but some things, you know.....

Head Yenta: No I understand. I'm going to look.

Male Yenta: He needs a nice girl.

Head Yenta: He does. He does.

And suddenly, they vanished into the crowd. As if they were never talking to me. Or were they going to work in finding me the right girl?

Dumbfounded, I went over to my rabbi for guidance.

Me: Listen, can I talk to you for a second.

Rabbi: Yeah sure.

Me: The yentas are after me. They want to set me up with someone.

Rabbi: Who!?! What's her name?!?!?

Me: That's the thing, I don't know yet. But you know a lot more than I do about what's really going on here and I don't want to be slammed with damaged goods.

Rabbi: Before you say anything, no matter who she is, talk to me first. Don't give them an answer until you talk to me.

Me: Thanks, that's what I needed.

Rabbi: Ricardo, I like you and I don't want to see anything happen to you.

A voice of reason! As of now, I remain safe.

Of Course, There's always Room for the Right One

My dear readers, there is always room for the right Jewish girl as well. My outburst earlier was to illustrate that the right one can also come in many flavors. Could there be a taut Israeli sabra who's sweeter than apples and honey in my future? Perhaps. It's all the luck of the draw and where life takes me. Will this search bare any fruit? Doubtful. Still the push to pair me off with a nice Jewish girl will continue. I am now in the cross hairs and there is little I can do about it. Even my blogging friend and performance artist Maya Escobar (also Jewish) is determined to set me up with her lovely friend who is.......Jewish. When I asked why the best answer she could give is because this is what she wants for me. It has to be done. There is no rational thought to it but there is a raw insistence that is almost instinctual.

While I despise (LOATHE) musicals, I can't help but think of this number from Fiddler on the Roof. I imagine somewhere in the predominantly Jewish neighborhoods in my state that there are women at least mimicking the essence of this nonsense. Quite frankly, I'm frightened by it all.





Coming up next......

Final thoughts as this season of U N L O A D E D comes to a close.