HG’s late mother, a woman who grew up in pogrom plagued Czarist Russia, believed that all non-Jews harbored an ineradicable hatred of Jews. HG found this ridiculous, but understandable given her background, and cited BSK as an example of a non-Jew devoid of any trace of ethnic, racial or religious animosity. “Just wait,” warned HG’s mother. That’s why, after almost a half-century of marital bliss, HG was startled by an incident last week. HG suggested a breakfast of post-Passover matzo brie. (For the uninitiated, matzo brie is an Ashkenazi Jewish staple — a mix of softened matzos and beaten eggs fried into crisp pancakes. When sprinkled with ground pepper and coarse salt, they are heavenly. Alternatively, sweet toothers like them with a pour of maple syrup.) BSK’s response: “Matzo brie is disgusting. Tastes like eggy old pieces of cardboard.” Wow. Could this be latent anti-semitism rearing its ugly head after all these years? HG then recalled BSK’s distaste for the chicken fat drenched food at Sammy’s Roumanian Restaurant in New York and her luke warm response to kishka (a goose or chicken neck stuffed with garlic and chicken fat enhanced matzo meal). And now this blistering attack against one of the cornerstones of the Jewish table…HG responded angrily: “So, BSK if you are through delighting in Mein Kampf you might want to browse the Protocols of the Elders of Zion and embroider your nightie with swastikas.” HG continued in this vein until BSK exploded: “Go on with this craziness and I’ll cover you in tuna melt and freeze you in a lime Jello mold.” HG has desisted. An uneasy peace prevails.
Well, Gerald, all I can say is that you might find it KINKY to share a bed with BSK sporting a swastika-embellished nightie! And even kinkier if she dons jackboots….
After a half century of marriage a wee bit of kinky could be pleasant. Jackboots, however, seem unattractive.