MY HAT HAS THREE CORNERS, BUT MY BOOK HAS FOUR

I’ve been taken to task for my bloglessness.  What can I say, I’ve been busy, hm, posting pictures of pastry on facebook.  Not much of an excuse, is it?  But look:

That’s not just any pastry, it’s hamantaschen, and as a class it holds a large, sticky space in my childhood memory cache.  Hamantaschen is Purim food–triangular like bad boy Haman’s three-cornered hat.  It comes in two forms, cookie and pastry.  The cookie kind is hard to find here.  The pastry kind simply doesn’t exist in goyische Seattle.  But that’s the stuff, people.  With a sweet poppyseed filling.  Ohhhh yeah.

Well, you never get over your childhood favorites, do you?  I still love Lucky Charms too.  It is my curse that, unlike hamantaschen, Lucky Charms are easy to come by and therefore must be resisted.  I do try to follow the advice of my current guru Michael Pollan and “Eat food.  Not too much.  Mostly plants.”  And those cunning little marshmallowy hearts, moons, stars, clovers, diamonds, and new red devils are so many wonderful things but not, alas, food.

So an old buddy from my hometown, recently rediscovered on that other site that sucks up all my blogging time, offered to send me a box of poppyseed infused Jewish crack.  Other flavors too.  I sat on the front porch for days waiting for the man in the brown shorts to show up with my stuff.  When he arrived he looked a little concerned when I fell on the box and ripped into it like a ravenous animal, but hey, Purim only comes once a year.

Another activity that has kept me from Xanga is visiting the library repeatedly, hoping to pick up the Warriors book that Little Bit has been waiting and waiting for.  We put it on hold weeks ago, and we’ve been tracking our progress through the hold line.  Yesterday we’d made it to number one on the list, but still the book had not appeared on the hold shelf.  Disappointment ensued.  Don’t get between LB and her Warriors.

Today I stopped in again and had a confusing and unpleasant interaction with another patron.

Before I tell you what happened, I want you to know that I don’t have a big issue with door holding.  When people hold doors for me, I say “thank you.”  If they sail through the door and fail to hold it for me, I open it myself.  Whatever.  If there’s someone behind me when I go through a door, I hold it for them.  Common courtesy, right?

Well today, distracted by thoughts of Warriors and hamantaschen, I failed to notice that someone was behind me.  I went through the door and let go of it.  Let me assure you it was not an elderly, disabled, or pregnant person behind me.  Nor was it a mother maneuvering children and strollers.  I would feel bad in those cases.  But it was a young (20’s, I think), able-bodied man, unencumbered by even so much as full hands.  Fully capable of pulling the door open all by himself.  So I didn’t fret.  But he did.

When he walked in, he said “Mfdb sklmn bdd door.”

That’s what it sounded like to me, anyway.  I’m not sure what nationality the man represented, but his accent was thicker than poppyseed filling.

“Sorry?” I said, giving him a chance to express himself more clearly.

“Mfdb sklmn bdd door,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you’re saying,” I said, regretfully.  Sort of.

“Yes, you can pretend,” he said, huffily, before stalking off to the stacks.  How come he could say that clearly?

So I felt rather peeved.  Where did this guy get off, griping that some woman didn’t hold the door open for him?  Then I felt chagrined.  I had neglected my basic human door-holding responsibility.  Then I moved to feeling uncertain.  Perhaps I’d misunderstood the whole thing, and he was making incomprehensible complaints at me about something else.  But what?  What could I have done even more egregious that letting the door close behind me?

And damn it, the Warriors book still wasn’t there.

Luckily, I came home just in time to greet my smiling children, returning from their day of learning and fun.  And then the man in the brown shorts arrived with the hamantaschen, and also with some new cd’s I’d ordered.  And now I’m digging the Derek Trucks Band and posting pastry pics, so screw the dude at the library.  It’s all good.

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18 thoughts on “MY HAT HAS THREE CORNERS, BUT MY BOOK HAS FOUR

  1. Never had this particular pastry, but I do love kolaches with poppy seed filling.   I have a can of it in the pantry now in case I get industrious and decide to bake a batch.   

  2. You still buy CDs????  Haven’t you heard of iTunes?    I grew up in metro-NY and had many, many Jewish friends.  I remember one mom coming in one year to bring trays and trays of hamantaschen for us to eat.  Yum.  

  3. I remember reading about Hamantaschen when I read the “All of a kind family” series as a kid and I was always curious about them.I don’t get the door guy at all. 

  4. bless you. oh wait, it’s a pastry…I’ve learned that we judge others by their actions but ourselves by our intentions. say if someone didn’t open the door for us, we take it as a slight. “how rude! how disrespectful! what happened to courtesy!?” then on days when we’re lost in our thoughts, extending a polite gesture may slip by us. the other person makes his/her mild displeasure know and we think, “how rude! how disrespectful! how could s/he be so presumptuous and think I am so self-centered?”things happen, lost in translation, you meant no harm, you don’t need the approval of strangers. admittedly, when it happens to me, sometimes i try to flag the person down to explain but often is the case it happens when i’m behind the wheel. and two people screaming through closed car windows doesn’t lead to meaningful conversation. oh the things we do for validation.and hey, have you heard the derek trucks band cover of paul pena’s “gonna move?” i particularly like that one. and also “drown in my own tears”also, that library man sucks. he should have ran ahead and opened the door for you! he deserved to get a nose full of glass. RIP, chivalry.

  5. @transvestite_rabbit – YES!!! i’d like to say it’s my fine-tuned ear but I think anyone can tell the difference in quality of sound. I still buy CD’s.i mean, i do iTunes also (believe that), but just for the quick fix. if it’s a favorite artist/band, give me the CD. something tangible, album art, something i can pop into a slot loader while on the road without having to jump through a few hoops and burn my own mix.

  6. The synaptic string that makes up your blog posts continue to amaze, mystify and amuse me.  Careening from hamantaschen to bad manners, fun and unexpected.  Not unlike my font selections.  Hope you have a great day, and Mmmmmmmmmmmm…  hamantaschen aaaaaaaagh. (in the style of Homer Simpson)

  7. Imagine I could find those on the other side of our city. I think I’ve eaten them at a festival here years ago.Now go stalk the angry young man and mumble at him.

  8. I’m so proud of you! (-:I want to make some of those purim things. I read about them on another blog too – funny that I’ve never been around anyone who has celebrated that holiday before. I LOVE the story of Esther! Love it!

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