Monday, September 06, 2004
The Toughest Job In The World
This weekend I was in Chicago for my cousin Jodie's Bat Mitzvah. It was a fun affair - lots of family, and tons of friends. Jodie had 80 kids there. I don't want to launch into a "back in my day" speech, but the differences between this Bat Mitzvah and mine and my brother's were stark. ("Hee hee! Dave, you didn't have a Bat Mitzvah! You're a boy!" I know. Shush.)
At my Bar Mitzvah, I believe we only had about 20 kids. To picture it, think of a sparse wedding reception - dancing, a band or DJ, dinner, dessert, a couple speeches, that's about it. Fun, nice, celebrating a tradition. But this Bat Mitzvah was unlike any I had ever seen. It wasn't incredibly lavish, although it was quite nice. Rather, in order to corral the 80 kids, it was strictly regimented fun, clearly aimed towards 13-year-olds. At mine, we had a couple standard "dance-related" games, like "Coke and Pepsi" (a combination of Red Rover and musical chairs, if you will), and maybe the limbo. Of course, there was the standard Hora, which may simultaneously be the most fun and most silly religious tradition that I've experienced.
At Jodie's, instead of just a DJ, Jodie's parents had hired what seemed like a mixture of a DJ, dance troupe, and violent militia. There were five of them plus an invisible DJ, and basically they led the kids in a gigantic series of dance steps for four straight hours. Picture the "Electric Slide", except to every song, going on nonstop, in front of five adults with permanent smiles and seemingly drug-infused energy. Honestly, it was kind of frightening. Every song, every game, every single step was choreographed, or so it seemed. Personally, I'm what you would call a "freestyle dancer", if you were feeling kind, or a "spastic, no-rhythm, white boy" if you weren't. Either way, I like to dance, but I like to do it my way. I figured out long ago that the most important part of dancing was not caring what you looked like, and if you can do that, you'll look fine.
At any rate, in front of this frightening crew, everyone was dancing the same way, and everyone had to face the DJ, so it was essentially like one big line dance (with many lines, of course). If you didn't go in the right direction at the right time, then you were most likely going to be trampled. The dance crew were always in sync, and always performed each step with the utmost intensity. In case you were curious, they were named Ryan, Ricky, China, and Isabel. The DJ was Lou. About every ten seconds during a song, he'd inform the group of the next step to perform: "cha cha cha" or "windshield wipe" or "spin to the right" or "three steps back". It was quite robotic, but what amazed me was how regimented it was, as if they had done these exact songs, in the exact order, about 500 hundred times previous. Part of it felt like an aerobics class, and part of it felt like a revival. Hallelujah!
I can understand why this configuration was good for the kids - with 80 hormone-drenched 13-year-olds, you need to keep them occupied. You could think of these dancing fanatics as really expensive babysitters. And, if Jodie and her friends enjoyed it, then that's what matter. It was actually quite impressive to witness the dancers go nonstop for four hours. At the end, they were drenched with sweat, but that didn't stop them from performing each step as if they were starring in an aerobics video. I can only imagine the conversations they must have upon returning home from work and seeing their friends:
"Hey, Ricky, how's it going?"
"Not bad. How was your day at work in the coal mines?"
"Well, it was pretty tough. I worked for about 15 hours, getting paid minimum wage, and one of the mines collapsed yesterday, killing three of my best friends."
"Damn, that does suck. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Hey, it's ok. It goes with the territory. But it is a pretty hard job."
"Hard? HARD? You spend 15 hours in the coal mine and you think that's hard? I spent my night TEACHING JEWS TO DANCE!"
"Whoa. You're right, buddy. I'm glad I'm not you. You've got the toughest job in the world."
At my Bar Mitzvah, I believe we only had about 20 kids. To picture it, think of a sparse wedding reception - dancing, a band or DJ, dinner, dessert, a couple speeches, that's about it. Fun, nice, celebrating a tradition. But this Bat Mitzvah was unlike any I had ever seen. It wasn't incredibly lavish, although it was quite nice. Rather, in order to corral the 80 kids, it was strictly regimented fun, clearly aimed towards 13-year-olds. At mine, we had a couple standard "dance-related" games, like "Coke and Pepsi" (a combination of Red Rover and musical chairs, if you will), and maybe the limbo. Of course, there was the standard Hora, which may simultaneously be the most fun and most silly religious tradition that I've experienced.
At Jodie's, instead of just a DJ, Jodie's parents had hired what seemed like a mixture of a DJ, dance troupe, and violent militia. There were five of them plus an invisible DJ, and basically they led the kids in a gigantic series of dance steps for four straight hours. Picture the "Electric Slide", except to every song, going on nonstop, in front of five adults with permanent smiles and seemingly drug-infused energy. Honestly, it was kind of frightening. Every song, every game, every single step was choreographed, or so it seemed. Personally, I'm what you would call a "freestyle dancer", if you were feeling kind, or a "spastic, no-rhythm, white boy" if you weren't. Either way, I like to dance, but I like to do it my way. I figured out long ago that the most important part of dancing was not caring what you looked like, and if you can do that, you'll look fine.
At any rate, in front of this frightening crew, everyone was dancing the same way, and everyone had to face the DJ, so it was essentially like one big line dance (with many lines, of course). If you didn't go in the right direction at the right time, then you were most likely going to be trampled. The dance crew were always in sync, and always performed each step with the utmost intensity. In case you were curious, they were named Ryan, Ricky, China, and Isabel. The DJ was Lou. About every ten seconds during a song, he'd inform the group of the next step to perform: "cha cha cha" or "windshield wipe" or "spin to the right" or "three steps back". It was quite robotic, but what amazed me was how regimented it was, as if they had done these exact songs, in the exact order, about 500 hundred times previous. Part of it felt like an aerobics class, and part of it felt like a revival. Hallelujah!
I can understand why this configuration was good for the kids - with 80 hormone-drenched 13-year-olds, you need to keep them occupied. You could think of these dancing fanatics as really expensive babysitters. And, if Jodie and her friends enjoyed it, then that's what matter. It was actually quite impressive to witness the dancers go nonstop for four hours. At the end, they were drenched with sweat, but that didn't stop them from performing each step as if they were starring in an aerobics video. I can only imagine the conversations they must have upon returning home from work and seeing their friends:
"Hey, Ricky, how's it going?"
"Not bad. How was your day at work in the coal mines?"
"Well, it was pretty tough. I worked for about 15 hours, getting paid minimum wage, and one of the mines collapsed yesterday, killing three of my best friends."
"Damn, that does suck. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Hey, it's ok. It goes with the territory. But it is a pretty hard job."
"Hard? HARD? You spend 15 hours in the coal mine and you think that's hard? I spent my night TEACHING JEWS TO DANCE!"
"Whoa. You're right, buddy. I'm glad I'm not you. You've got the toughest job in the world."
Comments:
up here where i live, everyone is rich, and there are lots of jews... my friends who own the knitting store in town are jewish and when their son had his bar mitzvah (about 2.5 years ago) i remember her talking about how insane they are, like wedding receptions (not even miniature ones)... there are always women coming into the store wanting to knit or crochet yarmulkas (sp?) for the bar/bat mitzvahs coming up in their family, 2 or more years in advance... because they have to make a billion... it's all crazy... wedding receptions too, but that's another topic
laurel
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laurel
# posted by 
: September 8, 2004 at 10:15 PM
: September 8, 2004 at 10:15 PM
