Brookwrite

Exercising rights

by Doug Brook
Deep South Jewish Voice Colunmist

This year's presidential election has proved once and for all that every single vote does count, if you voted for the right person.

While many people will use this election as irrefutable evidence that everyone should vote no matter how uninformed, uninterested, or unamerican they are, I sympathize with the silent minority. They're not much different than the rest of us. After all, so many of us just went to vote to get those politicians to shut up and return us to our regularly scheduled, far more enjoyable public service and personal hygiene commercials.

At least in exercising my right to vote I got some good exercise. I walked to the church where I usually vote, only to be told I couldn't vote there. They sent me to the other church whose name begins with "A" a mile in the other direction on the same street. So much for not mixing church and state.

But, when all is said and done, exercising my right to vote got me three miles of brisk walking.

Since you've heard more about this election than any of us want to, I'll change the subject. But before I do, the management insists that I inform you that, much to the chagrin of my mother, I have cleverly secreted in this column the name of who she voted for in this presidential election. Granted, I was almost two thousand miles away when she cast the vote in question. But we have our methods.

We could discuss something that will be easier to resolve to everyone's satisfaction than the Florida recount: the Middle East. But you came here to get away from all that stuff in the news. I understand.

We will now discuss, in detail, the deep religious traditions in the holidays featured in the month of Cheshvan.

Now that we have cleared that up for you, did you know there is now a Yiddish translation of Winnie the Pooh? Yes, it's true. Though it apparently translates the first paragraph of each chapter, then transliterates the rest.

As you might have figured out by now, there are no holidays in Cheshvan. None. Go ahead, check your calendar. This ink will wait.

HEY! YOU LEFT OFF RIGHT HERE! (That's to help you find your place after you went to check the refrigerator calendar and, since you were there, stopped to make a pot roast.)

By the way, do you know how to make a Jewish bachelor's pot roast? Put an empty pot on a hot burner and leave it there for two days.

Hey, don't complain. I could have said "get set up with a nice Jewish girl who cooks," or "go home for Thanksgiving," so back off.

Back to Cheshvan, there are no holidays in it. None. After all the holidays that the previous month (Tishrei) graciously provides, Cheshvan is a shock not only to the system, but to synagogue attendance.

To help you understand the reason for putting no holidays in Cheshvan, this column now presents a full account of the meaning behind the names of all of the months of the Jewish calendar, with special thanks to the ever-famous, long-lost Mishnah tractate Baba Gump:

Tishrei: With the High Holy Days, and the Cruising Altitude Holy Days, this month is intended to "teach" everyone a few lessons about themselves, about being religious, listening to sermons, standing and sitting in unison, and more.

Cheshvan: From the Hebrew word "choshev" which means, "to think," someone was obviously thinking when they decided to have no holidays for a month after Tishrei.

Kislev: This month contains Hanukkah (Yiddish for "that Jewish Christmas-thing"). Why do we get such a festive holiday? Not just because Christmas came along and commercialized the season, but "because ("ki", in Hebrew) we were slaves" long ago and could use a nice holiday.

Tevet: Everyone was always very upset when Channukkahh ended at the start of this month every year. When presented with a request to extend the holiday further because the people didn't want to lose the holiday for the next eleven months, the official rabbinical reply was, "Vhat? Tey vait!"

Sh'vat: From the Hebrew word "shev," which means "to sit," it's the time of year when rabbis are supposed to sit down and figure out why people haven't started coming to services again after taking a little break after Tishrei.

Adar: On Purim, we're commanded to get so drunk that you can't tell the difference between Mordechai and Hamman (the good guy and the bad guy, I forget which is which). This tradition started in a heated debate between two sage rabbis, whose names will be left out to protect their families and our credibility. A rabbi who opposed this drinking idea, said to the other rabbi, "I dare" you to tell people to get drunk on Purim.

Adar II: We're patient, but we're stubborn, so every few years, we are compelled to reply to Adar with "Ah dare you, too".

Nissan: This is the month when the Mishnah accurately predicted the invention of the foreign car.

Iyar: This month was created to commemorate another accurate prediction: the first writing of Winnie the Pooh, by A. A. Milne.

Sivan: This month remains a mystery. Especially because I once new a really cute girl who had this name. She had no idea what it meant, either. She and the name will always be a mystery to me.

Tammuz: There's a popular story that this month was supposed to be "Tammy's," named after the girlfriend of one of the single gentlemen involved in naming the months. However, when this rumor got to his other girlfriend, he submitted an urgent request for a last minute change. Since the calendars had gone to carve (no printing yet), he rushed in and stopped them just before they finished the "y" in her name.

Av: "Av" is Hebrew for "father." This month was originally supposed to include Father's Day, but this was tabled since it was difficult to agree on a date that wouldn't interfere with the start of the pennant race.

Elul: Obviously, this month is so named because it provides a lull before we get to Tishrei again.

Hopefully this clears up for you why it is biblically ordained that Cheshvan is the nadir of the calendar, with nothing to distract us from those bush-league politicians hagglin' and brown-nosing just to get a few extra votes so they can pat themselves on the back, no matter how much gore they leave in their trail.

Doug Brook is a technical writer in Silicon Valley, who did not flip a coin to decide who he would vote for, because both major candidates deserve to be the tail end of the coin.