Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Back in the dark days of January when Dad passed away, the entire family gathered to divide up the mementos. It was like the NBA draft, with a drawing for first pick and elaborate trades. I wanted very little as we don't have a lot of room here in New Zealand.

The one thing I really desired was a

paperweight that came from Dad's parking lot business. But brother Rick got it in the blind draw. Later, he surprised me by handing it over. I am eternally grateful. That was a generous move.

When all the dealing was done, everyone left for their homes. I hung around for a few days as did brother Barry.

One morning we noticed that nobody had claimed the mezuzahs on the doorposts.

A mezuzah is a little metal symbol that is attached to the door of a Jewish home. In Hebrew, it means "doorpost" I'm sure my friend Eyal could give me 30 minutes of discussion on every historical meaning of every letter.

Inside the little thing is a piece of paper that is illegible but VERY important all the same. Maybe it contains the directions on how to part the Red Sea. Do not purchase a mezuzah without the paper or you are wasting your money.

On one of Dad's the paper had come out in the past because he had it ducttaped back on. So we knew it was a crucial parchment.

The mezuzah tells people that a Jew resides somewhere inside, kind of like that fish symbol does for Christians. Why this bit of information needs to be advertised is any one's guess. These days, you would think Jews would be keeping on the low low. I mean, it's like we are leaving a breadcrumb trail for the suiciders.

None the less, Barry and I decided that we might as well take down all we could find. The house was going to be sold eventually and we didn't want these items to go to waste or to Goyim who might us them to hang their Xmas lights from.

Now there are heaps of rules involving the removal of the mezuzah as I found out later. Prayers are to be spoken, rabbis are to be notified. Israel must be alerted. There has to be a full moon and no pork can be within 5 miles from the site. These are just the easy rules. There are about 600 more.

Since we didn't know about any black and white regulations at the time, we went to the grey area of reason and found a screwdriver and pried them off one by one. I'm sure my sister Mickey is reading this and rushing to Rabbi Steve or Dave or whatever his name is for some magic wine to keep us from going directly to the Underworld on an express train.

No need, I am going to rot in Hell, and then some, according to a certain ex-wife.

And the some? What more could possibily happen after I am rotting in Hell??

None the less, the other day, Kimberly and I felt it was high time we advertised to our Nelson neighbors that we were members of the tribe, albeit atheists.

(Do atheists have a symbol?)

So I got out the hammer and nails. I found some yarmulkes (skullcaps) in a coat pocket. I must have worn that coat to some Bar Mitzvah 10 years ago. And so we went to work affixing them to our doorposts. I don't think prayers we said other than perhaps the beginning of the blessing over the wine. It went something like:

"Barouch Atoh Adonoy...Mezuzah.. Amen"

Just when we finished, Eyal came by and said we forgot some ritual or other, but I had already put away the tools and the deal was done.

So to summerize, Dad is laughing, we have muzuzahs on the doorposts, but have no idea of their deep meaning. I am going to Hell.

And then some.

Barry and his Shiksa wife put theirs up with no fanefare so at least I will have a golfing buddy down there on sunny days.

To make things even more confusing, we will likely have a goddamn Christmas tree up in December.