After our pastor -- or M.C., as you prefer -- made his introductions, the roadies dimmed the lights over the pews and threw the spotlight onto our guest speaker and his prop table. This was an exciting set up, much different than usual. One could just feel the specialness of the moment.
The crowd already warmed up from the outlandish antics of the little Africans and Mexicans in the children's Easter singing presentation, he started right in with the wisecracks. "Oy! Who let all these gentiles in here?" Laughter. "Can I get an 'Oy vey'?" "Oy vey!" shouted the congregation. Uproarious laughter. Ha! It was great, just great. Hey, if you can't go to Vegas to catch a show today, why not bring a Vegas show to you? Can I get a 'shalom' up here?!
While he was ingratiating himself and knockin' us over with his lame jokes, I was debating whether to escape into the foyer or stay to see if he might, against all odds, say something worth hearing. Using his Jewish superpowers, he sensed my indecision among the hundreds of ridiculous goyish souls, reached over to his prop table, and put on his little skull cap.
I walked alone through the empty foyer on my way to the back office to search for a yellow pages but was stopped dead in my tracks by a table someone had recently placed right in the walkway. The top of it was completely covered with the speaker's books, keychains, CD's, bookmarks, t-shirts, and other Jewish junk he had brought to sell to us. Every article had a large, prominent six-pointy star on it. I sighed. But then, as I caught sight of the two plastic "We Take Visa" teepees at the edges of the table, my mood changed instantly from consternation and confusion to amusement. This was too much. What could I do but laugh? "How typical," I smiled.
Please don't condemn me for not turning over the table. It would've been very loud and would've disrupted the chosen one and his schtick inside the sanctuary (sic). The congregation was truly enjoying themselves, judging by the laughter. Besides, who am I to turn over the tables of the money-changers in someone else's temple? Would anyone in this God-forsaken place understand the gesture? I seriously doubted it. Anyways, I did at least put my hands under the edge of the table, to see how heavy it was.
Happy Oester. May the rest of the day be a happy one, first of many more to come. It promises to be very nice. The earlier rain watered the fruit trees and my newly planted garden, und die Sonne scheint jetzt ganz hell. The birds are chirping, the women folk are preparing the traditional Easter dinner, and I have the yellow pages open to "churches." Ahhhh, a time for new beginnings. Spring is here. Bonam Fortunam, Amici.