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To sum it up, my name is now Mikakel Kaleekaku. That's how the good Jews know me. I don't say Gd's name in vain, and I will not allow my name to be the reason people are going to Gehenim. Thus, I added 'k's to the vowels.
My parents named me Brian. That was their mistake. I love them. To their defense, they didn't know that my name had a vowel. They didn't mean to be blasphemers, but they gave me the wrong name. It turns out they don't agree with that. And they also say I am still their child. Here is the full account. Visiting Mom and Dad I came home and told my parents they gave me the wrong name. My mom wasn't happy. Why? I don't know. I thought they would be happy I was visiting. She also didn't like when I told her she bought me the wrong sweater for Chanukah. That was when I was in third grade. I still remember her telling me that I will wear the sweater. They called our rabbi (at least it was their rabbi- I only grew up with him) and asked him and he said that Brian was my name. To quote, 'He always got called up to the Torah as Brian Ben Shlomo.' To note, my dad changed his name to Spencer. The rabbi refuses to call him up as Spencer. The rabbi was worried that the congregants wouldn't go for Brian Ben Spencer HaKohen being called up to the Torah. My mom brought out the birthing records and the legal documents. She even showed me my social security card. She started yelling, 'All of these say Brian! Brian!!! We sent Brian to school! I gave birth to Brian!!! I think your dad even said, "If it's a boy, we're calling him Brian." I was in labor and he said Brian!!!!! Your name? Brian!!!!!!!!' Follow Up Notes My parents refused to call me Mikakel Kaleekaku. So we settled on Brykin. After the whole debacle, Mom said we're eating dinner. I told my mom and dad that their dishes aren't good enough for me. They didn't like that idea either. I just don't think they understand what it takes to be a Jew. They raised me a Jew, but they don't know what it takes to raise a Jew. I'll bring that conversation up at dinner tomorrow night. I hope they don't overreact to that too. The Blog Tags Widget will appear here on the published site.
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Comedy in Crisis… Yes! A stand-up show about sickness! Three years in the waiting room and David shares the reality of love, hardship and joy with you in laughs.
Sunday - October 18 @ 8pm Shir Hadash - Jacob Rubin St. #1 Jerusalem, Israel For Tickets Click Here My friend’s pig wanted to wish you all a Hog Sameach. You get it? Chag Sameach. Americans can’t say the “Chet.” They say “Hag Sameach.” But this is a hog. So, Hog Sameach. A pig would say that. Most American say “Happy Holiday.” Americans aren’t pigs. Eating too much on Sukkot does not make you a pig. It makes you a person with an upset stomach, who put on twelve pounds. I hope that clears up any misconceptions about why the pig is saying “Hog Sameach,” and people from the US do not. Though, Americans can be quite friendly. Sukkah- A hut that is poorly built. Not a mitzvah. H’ knew that is the best a Jew can do. No Jew can build anything that lasts longer than seven days. And that is without rain. My Brother-in-law Teaching his Son to Build: ‘What you gotta do is take the soft side. Then you take the hard side of the Velcro. Tap as such… take the metal. Slip it through canvas. That’s how we build…’
Hakafot on Simchat Torah isn’t a Mitzvah. It’s tradition. Please don’t pull me into the dancing circle. It’s very uncomfortable. I don’t know when the tradition of pulling self-conscious people who don’t know how to dance, into a circle of people who don’t know how to dance, started.
I love the Torah. Let me celebrate the Torah as I do, by throwing candies at kids. Categories
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11/18/2022
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