So I had this great idea for my summer columns. I was going to try new and fun things with husband #1 and then I would write about them.
The one I was most excited about was taking ballroom dancing classes with him in that Cedar Lane promenade area — wow, that sounds really fancy, a promenade. As I recall, for a few Thursdays in the summer, Teaneck offers dance classes, and I wanted husband #1 and I to learn the rumba. Don’t ask me why. It sounded like it would get the funniest column, but since it didn’t come to pass, it doesn’t really matter. Now, it almost happened — like we ate dinner across the street, with me hoping that when we walked outside husband #1 would hear the music and see all of the dancers and get inspired. But, alas, what we saw were a few cute old couples, and husband #1 ran back to his car. COWARD! And he didn’t really run, he just walked briskly. But, still a COWARD.
So, since he knew I now had no column idea, he gave me permission to tell the following story about him. This was my reward for him not wanting to learn how to dance the rumba.
Now we must go back in time to when husband #1 was commuting to work by bus. The heavenly New Jersey Transit. I believe the year was 1998, and it was his first foray into commuting life. He found a legal place to park, he had his new briefcase in hand, I packed him his lunch and snacks (just kidding, I never did that…yes, I am just awful and how does he live with me — blah blah blah). He was all ready for his trip to work.
Because he had stayed up late with his babies, he was so very tired (he was probably tired because there was a Yankee game on, I was tired because of the babies, but whatever). The poor guy fell asleep on the bus. When he woke up, he realized the bus was back on the New Jersey side of the tunnel. That’s correct, my husband #1, who you all think I am so mean to, that all I do is make fun of him, fell asleep on the bus, went through the Lincoln Tunnel, stopped at the Port Authority, let a whole bus full of people off, went back through the Lincoln Tunnel, and then was back in New Jersey, heading for the bus depot. All that happened whilst my spouse was sleeping like a baby.
Listen, folks, if he didn’t give me such great material, what else could I write about? Does anyone really want to hear about why my parents’ summer was so utterly miserable? No! And that is why we have to keep dragging husband #1 into the spotlight…
When he finally woke up and realized where he was — of course it took him a few minutes trying to figure out where everybody went — he stood up, walked up to the driver and asked, “Why didn’t you wake me up?” The driver looked at husband #1 and said, “Hey buddy, I ain’t your mommy. It’s not my job to make sure that you are awake!”
Husband #1 was at a loss. He still had to get to work, and he had no idea where he was or what to do. The mean bus driver was kind enough to instruct him to take one of those jitneys. Long story short, he made it to work before the work day was over, and when he came home and told me that story I had a really, really good laugh.
But why was I even reminded of this tale of woe? Well, I went into the city on Thursday to see Broadway in Bryant Park, which is something I love to do every summer, and when I was getting off the bus, I noticed that a friend of mine was still fast asleep with headphones on. He was really, really asleep. So I started tapping him on the shoulder until he woke up, which actually did take a while because he was really sleeping.
Now, I could have let him sleep, because, well, that would have been the funny thing to do, but, because it is now the month of Elul, and I knew it was approaching quickly on Thursday when this happened, I decided to elevate my spirituality and wake the poor guy up. Can you actually elevate your spirituality by doing that? I will have to ask my local rabbi. Or one of my rabbi-like sons…
In any event, I hope he had a great day at work, I hope you enjoyed my story about husband #1, and I hope that now that we are in the month of Elul — the month before Rosh Hashanah — you can take stock of the stories in your life and see if there are any changes you would like to make.
And there you go — a teeny tiny d’var Torah. My boys will be so proud.
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is so excited to use her “sanitize” cycle on her washing machine when her boys come home from camp!!!!!