Monday, April 20, 2009
Moishe: Exploits Your Grandfather Should Have Told You
I told you in the last post about the big new idea for “selling” passover to the elusive younger crowd: The Legend of Moishe the Passover Stoat. I explained then just exactly how genius brilliant an idea it was, so you can read it there and marvel. But today, I want to share a few of the legends themselves. These are the stories we’ve learned about Moishe, theoretically, at seder after seder, year after year, tradition after tradition. Moishe, these are your legends. I mean, here they are - again.
The Disharmony of the Sages
Tarphon, Hillel, Amaranth and Kori were in deep discussion one seder night. One sage thought that each of the plagues was multiplied because things bounced, rubber-like, off the Israelites and stuck, glueishly, to the Egyptians. The other three believed this to be hogwash but they didn’t want to sound like blowhards so they all just sat around stroking their thick, full beards, and giving each other the hairy eyeball. Then a stoat came upon them suddenly and scampered up Kori’s vestments, and fetched him a grievous but unmentionable injury. But it had not been Kori who had imagined the stupid idea about the plagues, from which they learned: THE STOAT DISFAVORS BOTH ERROR AND ACQUIESCENCE. The remaining rabbis acclaimed the wisdom and charismatic charm of this gifted weasel, and thus was borne the legendary Moishe the Passover Stoat.
The Garden of Redemption
Moishe was reading QBVII in his tidy garden when he noticed that his horseradish and arugula were looking sad and chewed-upon. As he took a closer look at the damage to his beloved little plants, he saw a bunny - possibly wearing a top hat and/or waistcoat- gnawing on a tender stalk of garden celery. “Why, I never,” thought the Stoat refulgently, “that rabbit is reaping the fruits of my handiwork. Let me enlarge him!” And with that the Stoat scampered over to the bunny and eviscerated him with a Garden Weasel. As he returned to his novel, Moishe looked back over the rabbit’s twitching remains. “If you can come back after I’ve done that to you, he cheerfully intoned, “you’re welcome to try me again!” FROM WHICH WE LEARN: A GENEROUS INVITATION COSTS NOTHING UP FRONT.
The Runaway Macaroon
Moishe was wandering the arid tablelands, when he spied a macaroon tumbling toward him. “Where are you going, my moist cocoanutty friend?,” the Stoat asked, but he received no reply because the macaroon was going too quickly and was a cookie anyway. Moishe watched the macaroon roll and roll and roll right off the table and onto the floor, where the old family dog made ready to pounce upon it. Moishe saw his friend in mortal peril, so to save the macaroon he scampered down off the table and used his sharp claws and powerful foreshanks to eviscerate the old dog right there in the dining room. He then carried the fallen macaroon to a new seder where it could be properly appreciated. FROM WHICH WE LEARN: A STOAT PROTECTS HIS MACAROON FROM DOGS AND DISRESPECT.
The Stoat and the Fruit Gel
Tehe desserts were arguing about which one was finest. The chocolates emanated an extravagant chalky confidence; the fruit bowl glistened lubriciously and the angelefood cake shone like a chaste queen. (The macaroon was, of course, already gone.) With merry banter, they each advanced themselves as the perfect ending to a perfect seder. “So rich and indulgent, for we were once slaves but now are free!” “So sweet and satisfying, the promise of springtime fulfilling itself, and it’ll help you shift that matzoh through your system if you know what I mean.” “Cake… sweet, cakey sweetness....” For hours they went on in this way, each professing ultimate supremacy.
But then, shortly after supper plates were cleared, a new box arrived in the kitchen - a new dessert had been brought by a guest and was being placed in contention at the last moment before the ultimate judging of the pre-aphikomen course. Sneering, the three other desserts watched the frosted translucent semicircles being transferred to a serving plate, four day-glo colors with slightly muted rinds, garish and exposed to the derision of the other desserts. “What are you, to have earned a place among us?” they demanded.
“I am honored to share a table with you,” the fruitgels replied. “I am a token of that gratitude for that very honor. I am man’s work wrought in nature’s image; I am emulaiton; I am innovation. I am light and cloud and honey-sweetness. I am an object of desire and satisfaction; may it be your desire I am so fortunate as to satisfy.”
Then the back door blew open and who stood there but Moishe the Passover Stoat? Quick as a whiskerflick he scampered into the kitchen and onto the table to see what was happening. “Let us appeal to Moishe!,” acclaimed the desserts. “He will decide! Moishe, Moishe - which of us is the best dessert?”
Moishe took only a moment to look at the cake, the chocolates, the bowl of fruit, and the glittering, jeweltone fruitgels. He leapt forth and devoured - first the cake; to the very last crumb; then he turned upon the chocolates, leaving nary a morsel on the plate. Next, he unleashed his ravenous jaws on the parvenue fruit gels, smacking and salivating as he struggled go unstick the glutinous candy from his teeth.
Finally he turned to the fruit bowl, the last remaining dessert. He picked up an apple, a pear, and an orange, and contemplatively juggled them for several minutes. Then he put them back in their bowl, uttered a brief prayer, and left. FROM WHICH WE LEARN: ONLY JUGGLEFRUIT IS SAFE WHEN A STOAT’S IN THE PANTRY.
Elijah’s Helper
It was late in the evening. The third kiddush had been completed and every one at the splendid table was very full and comfortable. Some fought sleep but the seder was far from over. It had come time to throw open the door for the Prophet Elijah, to invite him to his seat and to drink his reserved cup of wine.
The youngest at the table was sent to the door and opened it with childlike glee. But much to his surprise, instead of Elijah, a majestic stoat stood on the doorstep. “It’s Moishe!,” squealed the child. “Invite him in,” encouraged the grandfather, “as an honored guest.”
The child stepped aside. The stoat threw a macaroon at the grandfather and scampered up onto the table. He knocked over Elijah’s cup and then caught his tail on fire on the candles. With a haunting squeal he knocked over a chiffonaire and behind it, stuck to the wall with an iron spike, was the aphikomen. Grandfather broke down in tears, and the child just kept looking out that front door for two weeks. FROM WHICH WE LEARN: NOT ALL LEGENDS ARE SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD. BUT AT LEAST THIS ONE HAD A STOAT IN IT.
There may be more to be said about Moishe at some point in the future but I’ve got so much other stuff all of a sudden. And some of it’s even blogfodder. Lucky you.
