That's Life 11-28-08

Posted

Issue of Nov. 28, 2008 / 1 Kislev 5769

Dear That’s Life,

I must admit there are times I have wondered about the after world — about heaven and, well, about the alternate destination. I just never imagined it was filled with turkeys.

The front page of Newsday this past Sunday brought attention to the shortage of turkeys being donated for Thanksgiving to soup kitchens and food pantries across Long Island. Due to the economic situation, many pantries were suffering serious shortages and they were concerned enough would not be donated to feed the numerous families in the area who depend on these charities for sustenance. Being a lover of Thanksgiving, I called Island Harvest to find out where turkeys can be donated and until when donations were being accepted. I wanted to give them a turkey.

But I also realized that charity begins at home and there were Kosher soup kitchens that were going to need turkeys as well. Coupon in hand, I went to buy myself a turkey and buy a second to donate to a Jewish organization. After I left with my two Empire turkeys, I still wanted to donate another bird to a non-Jewish organization, but was not sure about a small detail: Did the turkey I donated to a non-Kosher soup kitchen have to be kosher?

I called a well respected Rav in the neighborhood to whom I have asked many a personal — and also some weird — halachic questions. Was I going to have to buy another kosher turkey just to give it to a non-kosher soup kitchen? “No,” he said. I could buy a traif one, but of course, maarat ayin then became an issue. First I suggested going to a supermarket out of the area where no one would know me, which he said was fine, but then I opted to just ask a non-Jewish co-worker of mine to buy a turkey on her way home and bring it to one of the Island Harvest drop off locations. The next day, however, I couldn’t find her and in an effort to just make sure I had gotten it done, I headed to a King Kullen off the beaten path and decided to give it to my baby-sitter, who was going to bring it to the soup kitchen in her area.

As if I was on some kind of covert operation, I walked into the store, scanning the faces of everyone I saw, checking to make sure I did not recognize any of them. With my reusable shopping bags in tow (not the ones from Supersol — I wasn’t going to bring those to buy the traif turkey), I headed for the back of the store which I assumed was where the freezer section was. My hunch was right and all the way down some very long aisles, were waiting tons of non-Kosher turkeys — or as I referred to them — contraband.

Very uncomfortably and completely self-consciously, I put two turkeys into my cart, one for the soup kitchen and one for my baby-sitter. I could not get over the selection, the numerous choices in brands, and the prices. For the cost of one kosher turkey, I was going to buy two (larger) traif turkeys.

But then panic came over me and I covered the turkeys with my bright orange shopping bags. What if I ran into somebody? How was I going to explain this one? And would it be believable even though it was the complete truth?

I began to grab things off the shelves, big bulky items like oversized bags of chips, which I did not need, just to cover the birds. My cart began to fill. In a store whose kosher foods section consisted of matza, tam tams, and kosher for Pesach borscht, I knew I was in the clear but I was still pretty nervous.

I decided I was pressing my luck and that I needed to get out of the store before I ran into someone, even this far away from home. All of the registers were open (now there’s a concept) and there was no line on checkout 8 where Tom (no joke) was working the register. I decided to have the turkeys scanned first so I could quickly put them back in my cart and cover them back up with my bags. The finish line was in sight. I could hear the crowd cheering.

“No problem,” said Tom, as I handed him the first turkey. He scanned it and passed it back to me and so I switched it with the next one. But this was too easy, and the second one wouldn’t scan. Something was wrong with the barcode and I began to sweat. “Oh, no,” I thought, “please don’t do it. Please don’t do it.” But then he did.

Tom picked up the receiver for the overhead store announcements and in a booming voice he cried, “Can someone do a price check for a King Kullen fresh turkey in register 8?”

With a beet red face I thought, “So this is what it must be like.”

MLW

P.S. Just imagine, by the way, when one of them rolled out of the trunk of my car. It doesn’t get any better than this.

Dear Readers,

I’ve received a good amount of feedback from people who are enjoying my little game. While I am happy to hear that, I still wish you’d share your findings with the rest of us. It’ll be more fun if we can all play along. So in an effort to include as many people as possible, we’re extending the game for another week. Please submit your “most embarrassing song” in your music collection to letters@thejewishstar.com and don’t be afraid to share — I also have ‘Copacabana’ by Barry Manilow on my iTunes. If I can admit that, you shouldn’t be embarrassed to admit anything. Happy playing!

MLW

If something happened to you “that could only happen around here,” you’ve got to share! Was it funny? Outrageous? Hopefully, it wasn’t too painful. No matter what, if you type it up and sent it to letters@thejewishstar.com you’ll have a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to Burger’s Bar on Central Avenue in Cedarhurst — in other words, you could win an outstanding meal at one of Nassau County’s most popular kosher restaurants.

Submissions should include your name, your town, and your daytime and evening phone numbers. Sorry, but anonymous submissions cannot be considered. All decisions by the editors are final and all submissions become the property of The Jewish Star.

In case you were wondering, Burgers Bar is under the supervision of the Vaad Hakashrus of the Five Towns and Far Rockaway, and plays music you can find on MLW’s iPod.