The most important Sunday of the year in the United States is Super Bowl Sunday (it’s February 5th this year, mark it down). It rarely is a good football game; but it matters not. It is the ultimate party Sunday in America, and undoubtedly all the casual gambling and office pools sustain interest in following the game even if the participating teams are of little appeal.
And you don’t have to be a football fan per se, or married to one, to get caught up in the hoopla… the pageantry of the day… all the pre-game hype… all those pre-game “human interest” stories… the cornerback with one lung who cares for his grandmother (who raised him) and is wheelchair bound, and who graduated from Amherst… the cornerback, that is… with a 3.5 GPA and had to pay his way by waiting tables and taking in laundry…
Touching… when does the game start?
Luckily, if the game isn’t interesting you can simply enjoy the television commercials. You gotta know that “Madison Ave” struts their stuff on Super Bowl Sunday. Hands down, ads on this day can launch a new company to stardom (and the ad agency responsible for the creativity).
It’s just the way it is. The Super Bowl is a magnet for the devoted fan, the casual observer & the tag-along.
But what happens if you don’t give a twit about football? What happens if you don’t know if football is played on a grass field or on an ice skating rink (and couldn’t care less)? What happens if you think that Vince Lombardi is a capo de capo, or maybe a chef on the cooking channel?
And what happens if you think all these things and you’re a man (funny how women are given a free ride on this stuff)?
Well… all I can say is it’s a bit like being a “fish out of water”, isn’t it? All of America is watching the game, or at least “partying” with those who are watching the game… and there you are sitting in the front row of the 92nd St “Y” attending a recital of Edith Sitwell poems. Super Bowl? “Who really cares?”
Sure… hide behind a cloak of disdain. Pretend that the rest of the country is pandering to the commercial interests. Turn you nose to the air and say “not for me”… or “not for me, I’m better.”
But this is not a story about the Super Bowl, nor the unhappy souls who might feel inferior for not knowing (or caring) whether football is played in periods or innings. Although the stories do relate, after a fashion.
This is a story about Chanukah, and in part, its relationship to Christmas.
First… we have a problem even before the “coin toss”.
How do you spell it? I don’t think I have ever spelled it the same way 3 times consecutively. I’m a decent speller; but I cringe when folks ask me how to spell Chanukah. I have been able to spell Christmas correctly since the 4th grade.
Next… food. Real important to Jews, no? And the gastronomic highlight for the Festival of Lights? A side dish! Latkes (that’s potato pancakes, for those who don’t know).
Don’t get me wrong… I love latkes heaped with sour cream (my kids prefer apple sauce)… But somehow Roast Prime Rib and Yorkshire Pudding is a bit more satisfying.
And how is this for a holiday activity… let’s go to the video tape… a meek gambling game with the dreidel. A game that can’t retain the interest of a person with an IQ above a grapefruit for more than 10 minutes…
Let’s open up the presents. Chanukah lasts for 8 nights… a gift on each night! That will show the Christian World who is boss.
Great… in one fell stroke we send parents into debt paying for eight gifts, and at the same time incur the disgust of the Gentile population over this gaudy display of largesse.
Then add this critical detail. Truthfully, Chanukah is not that important a Holiday in the Jewish Calendar. In our own tradition Chanukah is like a divisional game in November… yeah, it’s important; but really it is a side show for what will follow.
Still, there is beauty in the story of Chanukah… and lighting of the candles on each of the night, in its simplicity is the true treasure of the Holiday.
And then importantly, regardless of all the presents, this Holiday is dwarfed by the breadth and importance of Christmas.
And understandably so.
And I guess you can go thru life pretending that Christmas is unimportant, or that it doesn’t matter… like sitting in Starbucks on Super Bowl Sunday doing crossword puzzles.
Or, you can go into the community, confident of your own traditions… and still fully enjoy the Tree in Rockefeller Center, warm to the richness of Midnight Mass, share the warmth of your neighbors, and bid peace and good will to each who we meet.
And how different are we really anyway? In the scope of things the spirit is much the same. It’s simply a beautiful time of the year. A time that everyone can enjoy the season and share in the richness of our traditions.
And in your heart I hope that you will forgive me while I boot that dufuss in the tail for not knowing the Colts are the best team in football (and I hope that they will be playing in the Super Bowl on February 5).
Cheers to all.