18/4/97
Virtual
Reality Seder
This
year, experience a do-it-yourself seder.
Why is this night different?
That's a silly question, because it's
not: Seder night this year will be exactly
the same as seder night last year, and
the year before, and probably 3,000
years before that.
Yeah, I know, we Jews like it
like that. But maybe it's time we got
with it; you know, with a revamped,
all-new, totally relevant, virtual-reality
Pessah seder.
The first thing we're going to
do is get out our old Haggadot -- that's
right, put down this newspaper, get
up and rummage around until you've found
them, pile 'em up on the coffee table
-- and then don't forget to pick up
this newspaper again and take it up
from here.
Now: get a pen. Any color will
do. Doodle a few swirls until you've
got it working. Next, cross off all
the instructions that comprise the seder:
Urchatz, etc. Finally, replace them
-- and this is the beauty of the Virtual
Reality Seder -- with your choice
of any of the following, whichever
you feel best represent your traditional
seder experience:
Hashva'a: The seder officially commences early in the evening, in synagogue,
where according to tradition everyone
hosting a seder compares who they've
invited. This one's got a real Russian,
that one a Russian and two Ethiopians;
he's invited a former ambassador and
a big UJA donor; somebody else has an
Egyptian-Jewish bricklayer who just
immigrated.
Yeshiva: The seating arrangements. Who sits where, next to whom, who gets the
plush chairs and who the wonky folding
chairs, where to put the kids, who gets
stuck at the corner and who will have
the table leg at his crotch all night
long; who gets the good china and silverware,
and who gets the chipped dishes and
plastic cutlery.
Shvitz: Ma in the sweatbox kitchen, fretfully stirring and basting and deciding
which dozen pots can be removed from
the heat to make way for the next dozen
pots that are cooling on the counter.
Shvitzer: Pa, already comfy in his chair at the head of the table, proudly shows
off that he can host 31 people for a
seder, no sweat.
Ta'am
va-re'ach: Moments before
everyone is invited to take their places,
a crowd gathers in the kitchen,
checking out what's cooking.
Krechtz:
The Jewish mother's ritual piteous utterance,
when she finally sits after six straight
weeks of cleaning and cooking. According
to tradition, the mother is supposed
to say "oy" and nothing more.
Shpoch: the first glass of wine is ceremoniously poured. The first glass of
wine is ceremoniously spilled over the
Haggada.
Maror
horror: There's always someone tasting the bitter herbs
for the first time. He is required to
take a large bite and then state these
words: "This is not so -- WATER!!".
Oof!: Traditional rolling of the eyes of children when Daddy says, as he
does every year, that "this maror
really clears the sinuses."
Shikker
quicker: The second cup of
sacramental wine is imbibed. It is downed
in one gulp.
Yitzhak: All the drunken children giggle.
Yitzak: The giggling becomes infectious, and Dad shouts at the drunken children
to stop, which just makes them giggle
harder.
Haham: Precisely when everyone's starving, and silently praying for this part
of the seder to speed up, some wiseass
kid who's been learning higher-order
interpretations of the proceedings stands
up and delivers forth a protracted rabbinical
treatise.
Nu!: The kids are getting restless.
Tzil'tzel (Diaspora seders only): the phone rings. Happens every year. It keeps
ringing until it's impossible to ignore,
the seder is halted and everyone becomes
anxious that it might be an emergency.
By now frantic that maybe God forbid
somebody's been rushed to hospital,
the phone is answered with a hysterical
"Hello, hello, who is it?!",
and a dull-witted voice responds, "This
is Johnny, can I talk to Bruno?"
Ma
zeh?: The food is served. The children, unaccustomed to such exotic fare,
ask what it is. Tongue, they are told.
They are horrified. Mom has anticipated
this and brings out a plate of roast
chicken.
Hafrada:
Ceremonial separation of bones and meat,
to feed the dog.
Zichron: Over dessert, one uncle or another spins yarns of unforgettable seders
past, inevitably embarrassing someone
else at the table.
Revenge
of the youngest: the youngest child present, who earlier was entrusted
with hiding the afikoman, is by now
fast asleep, and the seder can not proceed.
Sherutim: Thirty people excuse themselves and slip off to the bathroom, urgently.
The poor woman who spent days over the
hot stove wonders why she bothered.
Zhlok:
The door is opened to allow Eliyahu
the Prophet to come in and sip from
the cup of wine set out specially for
him. Everyone swears the wine receded.
Some glum non-believer says it must've
been due to evaporation. (In the Diaspora,
a non-Jewish neighbor is required, at
this point, to pass by and ask why the
devil somebody's standing idly by an
open door.)
Nitzach (Canada only): it's 10:45 p.m. and everyone's dying to know the score
of the just-completed hockey playoff
game. The eldest boy is permitted to
leave the table and run to the nearest
Gentile home to find out.
Murmur: The boring part of the seder. It's read fast, and no one speaks because
everyone wants to get it over with and
anyway, the wine and heavy meal have
taken effect.
Nigun: It's singalong time, just as everyone's a bit giddy. Each participant
has a different tune, and everyone wants
to sing his own. And everyone does.
The traditional tune, passed down through
the ages, is, in fact, the caterwauling
cacophony of all these tunes combined.
Blessing
the State of Israel: O Lord, our God, we thank Thee for leading us to
the Land of our Forefathers, where we
don't have to do this again tomorrow.
Hashana
haba: Mom fervently prays that next year, we'll get an
invitation to someone else's seder.