U N L O A D E D

To all my fellow Jews out there, I hope you had a great Passover. To those of you who are not, try to finagle your way into a Seder sometime as it's a great excuse to stuff your face and bang down lots of wine.

I went to 2 gatherings this weekend and I had a great time at each of them. The first family who hosted yours truly are from my synagogue and were some of the first friends I made there. Each year they have had me over and treat me as if I'm family. They are truly awesome people in every sense of the word.

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.

Or Happy New Year to all the fellow Jews out there. Yes it's Rosh Hashanah!

So far my new year has started of being a bit rocky. If I can use a word to describe it, it would be "meh." That's not really a word but it's how I feel right now.

A quick rundown of the picture above. The apples and honey you see are a treat commonly served on this holiday to symbolize our wish for a sweet new year. The rams horn you see is called the shofar which is blown many times and very loudly at the services. A series of notes are played with one big final blast at the end. No one is sure how this tradition started but some see it as a call to repent for all your naughty sins that you did throughout the year. Sounds good to me.

Finally, many people will cast off all the bad stuff they did symbolically. This is done by throwing pieces of bread into flowing water. I performed this ritual after work. Our office is right by the ocean. I had bread from the Italian dinner I had earlier that day. Eggplant Parmesan if you were wondering. Anyway, I walked out to a very small cliff to be alone and was shocked to find a bunch of Mexican day labourers fishing and having a good time. It was 8:30 at night, but to each their own. I know they are day labourers because I see them standing on the corner early in the morning waiting for trucks to pick them up and take them to work. They'll work just about anywhere to earn some cash. Not an easy life, for sure, and there are a lot of them doing this.

So, once I found a private spot, I began my casting off. I felt some relief and the ocean breeze and moonlight were pleasant enough. I thought that I should do this more often as well. There was a very therapeutic value to it.

I found something that is both sinful and sweeter than apples and honey; Jewish model Moran Eizenstein. There's a 99.9% chance we'll never meet or date but it did make me feel a bit better and certainly less "meh."


Coming up ext on U N L O A D E D.........

Fear of falling.

They come and go and wake us from our sleep in a fight. Nightmares are a part of life and our brains way of working stuff out. At least that's what some people say. I personally can do without them and at one time they were few and far between. That all changed with this recent battery of medications I've been taking to curb my anxiety and tame my slight touch of asthma. The 2 conditions can feed off one another and can totally fuck up your day. I don't like this so I take the medications while I search for an alternative to deal with the issue. I've told you here before about the side effects of these drugs and both can give you what are called "vivid dreams." I wouldn't mind this if it involved Hawaiian Tropic or Victoria's Secret Models, but they usually don't. Hell, I'd even take a visit from the succubus but no luck there either. These are good old fashioned nightmares and they suck. Today I'll give you a rundown of my nightly trips into the twilight zone.

Nightmare #1: The Super Duper Ultra Orthodox Jew in Brooklyn

There is a BIG, BIG difference between the type of Jew I am versus the SOME of types you'll see scurrying about in places like Williamsburg Brooklyn. Those of you who have been to this part of the Big Apple have seen them all in black with the big beards and all. They have a very tight knit and insulated community which is highly self sufficient. And sometimes they can be a tad unwelcoming to Jews who don't tow their line. But just a tad. Now let's be crystal clear here; I'm not coming down on this sect of Judaism at all, but the ultra orthodox lifestyle to me is.......a FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!!

Dressing in black 365 days of the year, wearing big black hats and growing a big bushy beard is not my cup of tea. Factor in the rule that if you're caught doing anything on Saturday like using the phone or any type of electricity (which warrants a royal beat down) and you'll see it's not fun at all.

Tis the theme of our first nightmare ladies and gents; getting caught using electricity on shabbat. There I was, all in black, living in Brooklyn with a wife I never had before in her standard issue wig and head scarf. We were sharing a cramped apartment with her brother and sister. Everyone was engaged in prayer after an all day affair at synagogue. It was almost sundown and I had to take a leak badly. I got up, went to the bathroom and.....I flipped the light switch. "RICARDO!" Shouted my "wife" followed by a barrage of cursing in Yiddish. Soon her brother and sister were in on it too and then all the Yentas in the apartment complex were knocking on the door waiting for their turn to yell at me.

The next day I was banished from the community which is devastating because ones entire life is supported by the community from cradle to grave. The Head Rebbe ordered me to be stripped of my marriage, apartment and 98 Cadillac which was bigger than my apartment. It was devastating. No one leaves the community and if you do, you lose everything as I did. My support system was shattered and I was forced to live like........a goy!!! Oy vey!! What a nightmare!

Nightmare # 2: The Deadly Mutant Electric Eel in my Aquarium

This was no ordinary electric eel ladies and gents, it was mutated! Like something you see in in the horror movies and highly intelligent as well. Naturally this pulsating bastard ate all my fish and somehow multiplied and spread throughout my apartment. They were in the sink, toilet and bath tub. The HORROR! Not only that but with my little fishies gone there were new mutant creatures swimming about with the eel. Like freakish looking lobster, crabs and fish with giant razor sharp teeth. I was helpless to control these monsters and trapped. Death was certain.
What the fuck?

Nightmare # 3: I'm Stuck in High School

Everyone I graduated with is in their 30's yet we are all still attending High School!!!!! WHY!?!?!? It's half prison, half reform school, part reunion.

I went to a strict all boys Catholic school and hated it now that I look back on it. There is nothing that I wish to relive about it. No girls, no fun, no nothing! It's behind me and then this dream comes up and I'm right back in there. The sad thing is no one else seems to question it. They simply agree to attend class and a fall in line. But not me, I rebel!!!

Why? Because I'm flunking my classes and can't pay attention to the BS, that's why!!! Not only that, we're all in our fucking 30's. My fellow brothers, get a fucking hold of yourselves!!!! I decide to break ranks alone, there is no getting through to the others.

I discover the world outside is a police state. I live my life on the run and in fear. If I am caught, I will be sent back to the evil school.

Not for nothing, but what is this?

Nightmare #4: This House Possessed!

I'm back home living with my grandparents and all seems normal and then, it's all gone. The living room is stripped bare except for the TV and my grandfathers easy chair. The clock on the wall goes backwards and the basement is slightly flooded with just a few items from my childhood and my grandfathers desk and typewriter.

I carry on my life there as best I can. The kitchen is empty, no table or anything. I can't go upstairs for some reason and I'm worried about letting intruders from the outside in.

Then, my grandparents are back and the place is normal. Well.....sort of. One of them will usually be very ill and I have to keep tabs on them and I'm inexplicably driving a late 80's Volvo station wagon. I finally work up the nerve to venture outside and it's nothing like the place I grew up in. It's rather nice but all of my things are packed up in the Volvo. I can't leave, my grandparents. They need me after all but then......poof...they're gone.

What the fuck was that shit?

Dreams and Nightmares

I could go on, I suppose, with more but this is enough as I am exhausted from recounting these stories. I wouldn't mind if they were good dreams but they aren't and some of these are recurring ones. They all started when I began taking these damn prescription drugs!!

The last good dream I had? I met model/actress Mila Jovovich at a store, we hit it off and I wound up making out with her. The dream ended far too early and it's been a long time since I had a good one like that.

Are these nightmares trying to tell me something? Maybe, maybe not. The could be past things I have yet to resolve or my brain simply short circuiting in the dead of night. I don't think I'll ever know but we all have them now and again. I just wish they weren't drug induced for lack of a better term.

Have you had some weird dreams? U N L O A D them here if you'd like.

Coming up next on U N L O A D E D....... The value of a slow cooked meal. With everyones busy schedules, has this become a lost art form? Are we destined to eating pseudo fast food from here on out? I'll share my thought's next on U N L O A D E D.