There is one time a year when I allow kitsch into my house. Not only I allow it, I welcome it, and go out in search of some more cheesy kitsch, and even pay good money for it. Somehow, it's the absurd that makes us laugh. We laugh at a joke, because we hear something unexpected.
Kitsch is the ultimate absurd - too much, at the wrong place, at the wrong time. A cat with a goffered collar, roses and glitter. It's a kitsch holiday, populated with kitsch people. Somehow, absurdities gather up till they tip the scales, and then I just laugh and laugh, and need to share.
A woman lands next to me at the bus stop. She's got screaming red nails, a Hawaii skirt, and dirty toenails sticking out of worn sandals. Her trolley slams into my knees. Looking right into my face, she proceeds to stick her fingers up in the air, folding them back one by one, then screams: "it's my birthday in one-two-three- eight days!" Umm.... what would you do? I wish her a happy birthday. That she should be only-only happy. She shows me the cake she bought herself, then tells me the bus drivers don't like her. I jump on my bus before she smothers me. Why me? God only knows.
I'm teaching seventh grade, cute kids the same age as my son. Suddenly, the door opens, and a big guy, maybe 17 years old, who needs a shave badly, walks right in, and lies down on his back across the desks. His feet are up in the air. Teecha, he says, you are a Russian Suka. (Bitch) I've never seen him before, no idea who he is. Succot kitsch plus a clash of cultures. What would you do? Before I had a chance to do anything, he threw a chair on one of my students and was gone.
I'm on the bus, and I pass a sign saying, men ahead, women inwards. I know they mean the separate buses, but these guys clearly never took geometry. That's quite a feat, to achieve what they demand, if you think about it. I heard there is a yoga studio in that neighborhood. They'll need it.
Walking on one of the main streets of Bet Shemesh, I spot two plastic heads, demonstrating women's head coverings, leaning towards each other for a delicate kiss. God bless the shop owners.
Walking to the gym, I spot a man of about 70 doing stunts on a tiny little bike in a school yard. He's quite impressive, and I stop to stare for a bit. His long grey beard is stuck into his jacket, and comes out again where the jacket ends. Long grey peot are flying in the wind. He walks up and down steps on his bike, jumps, and twists around in the air.
We go get groceries for the chag, and what should stare me in the face at the supermarket, but a New Year (X-mass) tree. Why is it here? They don't know. Kacha.
But at least they have Krembo there. That they know. Krembo equals winter. And it doesn't matter that you could still fry an egg in the sun outside. If you see krembo, you know you need a jacket and boots.
If you don't want Krembo, you can have some nuts oil. For real.
Sometimes the absurd is out there in the open. So much that it makes me think of the USSR. Because this is just so classic:
Absurd in my house - one kid turns the house up-side-down and over looking for the new shoelaces I bought. When another returns home, he cracks the mystery - someone put them in the butter dish, so they don't get lost. Go figure.
In my building there hangs a sign advertising a succot show. It's called "Babushka". Seriously, my mom is not taking part in it. I know they mean Russian dolls, but I still crack up every time I see it. The whole building refers to my mom as Babushka.
And the cherry on the cake - I come up to a guy selling stuff for Succot on the street and ask him if he has a vagina. No, I haven't joined the kitsch party and gone mad. A "nartik" is a case to keep your lulav in. And yes, also that part of a woman's body where the monologues come from. Love Hebrew, love the absurd. He knew exactly what I wanted.
And this is a good reminder - love and laugh. Lots and lots. They say it heals the soul. And a kitsch a day keeps the depression away.
