For fun, I write. For my future, I’m in the process of composing a novel. For extra money to justify having my own personal credit card, I work part-time. I am currently the fundraising director/event organizer/other stuff doer for a group of Orthodox rabbis who do education and community outreach. Yes me, a bonafide punk, works for a group of very observant Jewish rabbis. It’s a bizarre combination, I must admit, but so far, it’s worked out due to a strange mutual admiration.
The rabbis believe in my competency and ability to get things done, and I admire their strong individualist attitude of living the life they want to live despite what the world tells them. Observant Jews honor the Sabbath completely, which means come Friday night; they don’t do anything that constitutes work. No washing dishes after dinner, no checking email, they don’t even turn on and off lights, because of an ancient restriction that bars Jews from lighting fire on the Sabbath. I once spent an entire Sabbath, which is sundown on Friday through sundown on Saturday, with one of the rabbis and their family. It was very relaxing, and made the weekend seem longer. Although I don’t know if I could do it myself, and my husband wouldn’t entertain the idea of taking on an observant way of life, I respect the purity in their lifestyle.
They buck the modern obsession to consume, and write off popular culture. When you attend one of their gatherings, the last thing they do is ask you about your profession, because they aren’t there to network, they just want to have a good time. Unfortunately, the world tends to see them as backwards and closer to the Puritans who founded this country, which is a complete untruth. Nobody knows how to party like observant Jews.
During Purim, which is a bullshit holiday that nobody believes really happened, but it’s fun, so we celebrate it anyway, Jeff and I were invited over to the rabbi’s house. A dozen people sat around two tables drinking, eating and singing. One of the objectives of Purim is to drink until you can’t differentiate the good guy in the story from the bad guy, and since observant Jews follow the liturgy to the dime, everyone was getting absolutely piss drunk. The kids were on the other end of the room dressed in costumes (which is custom), eating candy and bouncing off the walls, because no one was really in the mood to discipline them. I had a great time talking with the rabbis most of whom were wearing funny hats or had ties wrapped around their heads, and their wives who decided to wear heavy, drag queen-like makeup for the occasion. My wine glass was never empty, and needless to say, I don’t remember leaving the house or getting home that evening, but nine months later I had Rachael, so the rest of the night must have gone well at least for my husband, anyways.
I doubt the rabbis would acknowledge any resemblance between their lifestyle and those of the punk movement, but the similarities are endless. Both punks and observant Jews bunk fashion trends, neither group cares to get involved in the materialistic pissing contest so praised by our consumer culture, and they are loyal to their own philosophies of living despite being criticized by the majority. I thoroughly enjoy hanging out with punks and Orthodox Jews. I am judged by neither and welcomed by both, which I believe is the most important aspect when choosing people to invite into my life.
It’s so strange the people you end up with. I never would have guessed seven years ago, when the majority of my friends were punks, artists and musicians that in a few short years my friends would be Orthodox Jews, business professionals, and mommies. However, I’m not complaining, because the people I call friends actually want to be around me despite my pissy moods, endless political rants, and my bad habit of returning phone calls later than I should. I went from promoting concerts to organizing fundraising events for Jewish programs, which I find a bit strange as well. The upside is that I no longer work 60 hours a week, like I did in my concert promoting days. I do miss those days from time to time, and I am reminded of the chaos when my organization is doing a youth program with children ages 5-12. Let’s face it, when you’ve got 50 excited kids in one small room it’s the same noise level as any Motley Crue show packed to the hilt with drunken burnouts.
I have the ultimate flexible schedule, do the majority of work from home, and basically, couldn’t have asked for a better part-time job. I adore my co-workers: those amazing and fun people who constantly challenge me to think differently about the world. Those sometimes kooky rabbis who live to practice their craft, raise their families, and unbeknownst to them are more punk in their black hats and suits than any of those posers hanging at a Green Day concert.
No comments:
Post a Comment