Tzimmes (and don't forget the cheesecake and the strudel)

By Arthur Marshall Fell

Tzimmes (and don't forget the cheesecake and the strudel) is a humorous story about Dr. Sam Landover, an unpretentious high school mathematics teacher, grounded in Jewish tradition, who despite himself gets tangled up in the middle of choosing a rabbi for Shalom Center. Improvising his way through the confusing jumble, the story becomes a mixed-up stew, like the tasty dessert called tzimmes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781619278011

Book preview

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CHAPTER 1 - THE OPENING

Sam’s cell phone rang. He flipped it open. Max was on the line, breathless.

I’m telling you things are getting out of hand. This is a real mishegaas!

What’s out of hand? What mishegaas are you talking about, Max?

Listen, Sam. When you’re half-way across the stream you have to bite the bullet. We are in a tzimmes. You got me into it, so you’ve got to get us out of it. Max mixed his metaphors freely and peppered his language with Yiddishisms.

Max, I’m in a darkness here. What are you talking about.

Just hang on. I can’t explain on the phone. I’ll be right over.

The phone clicked off. Sam knew that a rattling heap of a Datsun with Max at the wheel would soon be pulling into his driveway.

He called out Ida? No answer. Sam went to the bottom of the stairs and called out again Ida, Max is coming over.

I’m in the laundry room.

What are you doing back there.

What do you think I’m doing? I’m doing our laundry. Washing your gatkes, if you want to know.

Moving towards the laundry room in the back, Sam said: Max is coming over.

Listen, Sam. I’m finishing up here. You deal with Max. I have to take Arnie to Dr. Bluestein the dentist.

To Dr. Bluestein. What, again?

Teeth, Sam, teeth. When you start up with teeth, with an orthodontist, do you think it’s in and out? One visit and it’s over? It goes on until you’re broke. Arnie’s next door. I’m going to get him to take him to Dr. Bluestein’s office. We’ll be back later. With that, Sam heard the back door clatter and close.

Sam actually had an idea what Max had called about. A problem had been brewing at the Shalom Center, the shul, over the choice of a new rabbi since Rabbi Epstein had passed away three months previously. Sam always tried to stay on the sidelines in such matters, while Max was in the thick of it because he was on the Board of Directors of the shul.

Sam had not wanted to be on the Board again. He had served his time in past years and was finishing up a three-year term when the election was held last year. There were seven slots on the Board to be filled. But, when it came time to vote, there were only 6 candidates at the General Assembly. At that point Sam nominated Max. His unanimous election came in a flash as everyone was anxious to fill out the Board, end the meeting and eat.

Sam recalled the catered kosher meal from Shapiro’s Delicatessen which followed the meeting and seemed to lift everyone’s spirits, even Max’s, although he was not entirely happy to have been catapulted onto the Board of Directors. Max did not like to speak in public and could not stand confrontation. But, Max’s misgivings dissolved into pleasure as platters of Shapiro’s knishes, pastrami, corned beef, chopped liver, kosher pickles, and rye bread were passed around.

Sam was pleased to be free from his obligations as a Board member. He did not enjoy the meetings. He did not care much whether the Center put up benches in front so members could sit and shmooze after services. He tended to tune out during long discussions about the details of the shul’s finances or the timing of events.

Waiting for Max to arrive, Sam went to the kitchen to fix himself a coffee. As he was sipping it and reflecting on dental bills, he heard the Datsun in the driveway. It had an unmistakable, characteristic sound, a mixture of rattles and panting exhaust. Max said he would drive it until the wheels came off and he was well on his way to attaining his goal.

The car sputtered to a stop and a car door closed with a rattle. The front door to the house opened and Max was there. He was only slightly overweight, balding with horned rimmed glasses and wearing a somewhat disheveled light blue shirt and chino pants with white sneakers. It was clear why Max could not explain anything over the phone because he could not speak without waving his hands and fluttering his fingers.

With a few wind-up gestures, Max began his explanation and with a swooping chop of his hand he said, We’re deadlocked. The Board is absolutely stuck in the mud and logjammed. In a ditch.

Wait a second, Max. You can’t be deadlocked. There are seven members on the Board. Unless my math is off, that’s an uneven number. In the worst case, it’s four to three. You can’t be deadlocked.

Yes, we can, said Max with his hands waving and fingers fluttering.

Impossible. I teach math, Max. The Board has seven members. That’s an odd number so you can’t have a stalemate.

With Shalom Center, everything is possible, even the impossible. Sam paused. Then, a bit sheepishly he said We voted three for and three against the new rabbi.

What do you mean three for and three against? That only makes six. What about the seventh member?

Max took a breath, waved his hands and said, I’m the seventh member.

And?

and….I abstained.

Sam, you can’t abstain. You’re deadlocking the Board. You have to take a stand.

Stand shmand. I know that, but I’m not Custer. I can’t take a stand. Rose Ginsburg is a flaming feminist and she wants this new female rabbi who is a candidate. Rose is a friend and a client of mine. She is thick with my wife Bluie. How can I vote against Rosie? Do you want me to have big time tsoros at home? Irving Moskowitz preferred the other candidate, the rabbi from New York who is a man. Irving is a client and a good friend, too. How can I vote against Irving and his group?

With that Max sat down and looked intently at Sam, who simply stared into the air. In fact, Sam understood the problem perfectly. Max had a small photography business, not overly flourishing, but sufficient to make a decent living. He could not afford to alienate clients. More important, Max was intensely averse to confrontation. He could change the subject on a dime to prevent a clash. Sam had never known him to have a harsh word or argument with anyone. He would immediately back off from any delicate situation and joke his way out of it.

So, what happened when you abstained? Sam asked.

Everyone looked at me like I was some sort of ganef and waited. George Levy, the President, asked if I would please take my responsibility as a Board member seriously and vote. I asked if I could split my vote in two, one half for each candidate. It got a laugh. Then Levy got serious and put the pressure on.

Then what?

I suggested we take a break, for a month or so, and all think about it. You know, cool off and take a breather. Levy said we can’t do that because we have to answer the candidates or we will lose them. We need a new rabbi now. There are several Bar Mitzvahs and Bat Mitzvahs coming up in the community in the near future and we need the new rabbi to steer them through, in addition to other things. He called a meeting tomorrow evening to settle the matter. I asked what’s the rush? Since we are split maybe we can interview more candidates. That did not go down well at all. Levy said that rabbis don’t grow on trees. We’ll never find two better candidates to come to Fairview, Illinois and we’ve already searched for months.

With that,