I’m so sick of Ms. Pollyanna Purebread and her minions. How is it that their optimism is so fragile that my kvetching is a threat?  They get so damned resentful that this little heeb can, with a couple of well placed gripes, pierce their WASPY suits of  I-must-be-optimistic-or-cry armor. On top of that, they resent that I consider kvetching to be an art form — though admittedly, a dying art form. They don’t understand that there is comedy in kvetching!

An old friend named Blair recently used a quote from Eddie Hunt as his Facebook status. It read, “LA’s Fine. Nothing terribly bad or terribly good will ever happen here. In NYC amazingly good and amazingly bad things can happen.”

Oy, what a tumult it caused. A band of insecure LA anti-kvetches went ballistic, not realizing that one interpretation of the quote could be that LA is a heck of a lot more even-keeled than New York. New York’s extreme ups and downs — while perhaps tremendously exciting — are, for the most part, the urban cultural schizophrenia most Angelenos prefer to avoid. Angelenos, that’s okay.

Blair didn’t know what hit him when the anti-kvetches began to flame his status message. First there was (LA spokesperson, I guess) Robert C:

ugh…blair, you used to live in Los Angeles…you know better than to make such ridiculous statements. reveals a new york provincialism that at this point in history is just laughable. when new yorkers talk like this their insecurity is showing.

Our insecurity? Really? And, is it provincialism to say what we all know but just can’t say in Los Angeles (and — I know from experience — in San Francisco) that New York is the capital of the world? (It probably is provincialism but let’s move on.)

Of course, I had to take this on. Admittedly I was in a somewhat grumpy mood:

When New Yorkers talk like that it’s because it’s true.

Then I took another swing. A New York right hook — right below the belt:

Face it. LA is a sleepy suburban sprawl that gets up late and closes early. It is a movie-set facade of a city that many people seem to enjoy. They say it takes at least 3 years of living in LA to actually like it. I’ve got two to go…

I thought that was funny. Ed, another one of Blair’s friends, did not. I was told by Ed to:

“hop back on that jet plane to NYC. (Stereo)typical New Yorker.”

Ed did not understand that kvetching = fun! I made up my mind to prove it to him.

To drive the point home, I told him I’d be staying in LA until I was done complaining. Ha! Anyone that knows me knows that that was code for me staying here indefinitely. Suck it Ed!

I also told him to think of my kvetching as punishment for not being able to find restaurants in LA open after 9:30 PM. Major LA kvetch! How can you consider yourself a major metropolis if everything shuts down by 9? Huh Ed?

Next came the Ms. Purebread ultimate (I left her spew unedited):

“we have ,sun,beaches,culture,fashion,film,radio,tv,top ranking colleges,desert mountains,green grass,clean city,oppurtunity,architecture,Inice people,beautiful beautiful people,1 recovery in the world,low stress,cars,every race possible,……LA is just the place for people who already figured out who they are,what they want,andwhere they want to be, and to do it in a beautiful atmosphere…….and don’t have to prove to everyone else………why struggle in the land of cement!!! carry stuff on your back,freeze your ass off,and it doesn’t matter how much money you have…..still complain. Love NYC,to visit,and then get back to real life!!!!!!!!!!!!!! why does everyone come here then complain,NYC is NYC,and LA is LA. Dig in and allow yourself to enjoy all that LA has to offer.

Already Ms. Calm-and-Collected LA Purebread is breaking a sweat and her low stress veneer is melting all over the beautifully manicured green LA grass. And, by its rambling nature, we know one thing for sure: She should put down the crystal meth pipe right away. Right away.

But never one to pass off an opportunity to infuriate a crackhead, I hammer my point home, again:

“I guess kvetching is just an art form that is undervalued and so misunderstood here in la la land…”

He shot back,

“…..we have just outgrown it.

Touche. Exactly my point. RIP New York Jewish cynicism, particularly when it rears its ugly head in LA.

One more volley from me:

“Yes. So advanced here. You need a light to tell you when to cross the street. Can’t figure it out for yourself?

Then Ms. Pollyanna Purebread snapped, choking on soured optimism. Oozing from her pores came doom and dread.

“at least the streets r not filed with rats…….clean,beautiful,and green grass. Is life about being advanced,or just the joy and gratttitude to be alive??????? Whats it like to be so advanced?????????? r u discovering any cures,or changing life?

The horror. The horror.

The movie set facade of her life had shattered. Her distaste of me and, by extension all kvetching New Yorkers drooled from her lips. We had pushed her over the pessimistic edge. Her life would never be the same.

I felt vindicated and alive!

And, of course, I felt some guilt. (It’s Jewish law.) Was I really just a pessimist curmudgeon that couldn’t enjoy LA?

During my hiatus from ObJew I pondered that very question. Should I too be an optimist? Should I embrace LA and all of its great attributes?

Nah.

I decided to embrace my inner, and outer kvetch. I decided to complain with gusto as if my life depended on it! I will not let the anti-kvetch automatons win!

What would Jesus Drive?

He might drive an old Plymouth because the Bible says “God drove Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden in a Fury.”

However, in Psalm 83, often called the “Prayer for Israel”, it is suggested that Jesus preferred the Pontiac and a Geo, for the passage urges the Lord to “pursue them with your Tempest and terrify them with your Storm.

Jesus apparently did not like Hondas. In the gospel of St. John, it is claimed that Jesus said “For I did not speak of my own Accord, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say.” No doubt, he would have had some apprehension about driving a Pilate.

After wasting a great deal of time researching Bible quotes and others’ thoughts on this subject, I have concluded that whatever car Jesus might drive, it will, no doubt, be a Chrystler.

Created by Kent Victor Schuelke and Written by Larry Silverman

Here’s the script:

“Why can’t I carry my bag on the plane?”

“What, no meal? I paid $300 for this ticket and all I get is a little bag of peanuts and a package of Biscoff cookies. I can’t eat the cookies. I have to watch my blood sugar.”

We got better service traveling to the camps than we get on this airline.”

“Stewardess, can I get a blanket?”

“Stewardess, can I get a pillow?”

“Two dollars for some earphones? You cheap bastards. Just give me the fakakta Sky Mall catalog.”

“I didn’t see the seat belt sign. I was in the bathroom. Forgive me for having a small bladder.”

“I should have flown Eastern Airlines to Miami. Now that’s an airline!”

This Getting-to-Know-Jew post was sent to ObsessiveJew.com by Capettawitz. We have no idea where he got it or who the original author is, so please tell us if you know. We’d love to give credit where credit is obviously due.

Jewish Information

As a general principle, Jewish holidays are divided between days on which you must starve and days on which you must overeat.

Many Jews observe no fewer than 16 fasts throughout the Jewish year, based on the time-honored principle that even if you are sure that you are ritually purified, you definitely aren’t.

Though there are many feasts and fasts, there are no holidays requiring light snacking. NOTE: Unlike Christians, who simply attend church on special days (e.g. Ash Wednesday), on Jewish holidays most Jews take the whole day off.  This is because Jews, for historical and personal reasons, are more stressed out.
 

The Diet Guide to the Jewish Holidays:

There are many forms of Judaism:

 
You know you grew up Jewish when:

·      You did not respond to the teacher calling roll on the first day of school because you thought your name was “Princess.”

·      You’ve had at least one female relative who drew eyebrows on her face that were always asymmetrical.

·      You spent your entire childhood thinking that everyone calls roast beef “brisket.”

·      Your family dog responds to complaints uttered in Yiddish.

·      Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents.

·      You’ve experienced the phenomena of 50 people fitting into a 10-foot-wide dining room hitting each other with plastic plates and forks trying to get to a deli tray.

·      You thought pasta was the stuff used exclusively for kugel and kasha with bowties.

·      You watched Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan every Sunday night.

·      You were as tall as your grandmother by age seven.

·      You never knew anyone whose last name didn’t end in one of six standard suffixes (-man,-witz, -berg, -stein, -blatt or -baum).

·      You grew up and were surprised to find out that wine doesn’t always taste like year-old cranberry sauce.

·      You can look at gefilte fish without turning green.

·      You grew up thinking there was a fish called lox.

·      You can understand some Yiddish but you can’t speak it.

·      You know how to pronounce numerous Yiddish words and use  them correctly in context, yet you don’t exactly know what they mean.

·      Is that Kenahurra or is that kaninehurra?

·      You have at least one ancestor who is related to your spouse’s ancestor.

·      You grew up thinking it was normal for someone to shout “Are you okay? Are you okay?” through the bathroom door if you were in there for longer than 3 minutes.

·      You have at least six male relatives named Michael or David.

Baruch Hashem and G-d willing, may you have a day full of mazel and shalom!