Friday, March 23, 2007
Hello. I am your cousin.
Last night I attended a very peculiar concert. My friend, who grew up on the Upper west side, had a cousin who was performing at a venue in the village. Her very very Jewish and slightly crazy family required that she attend. The music was upbeat Argentinian, Columbian, and Venezuelan type stuff that one might witness drunken tourists dancing to hotel poolside. Instead of hotel poolside they were playing on the stage at a basement bar of a diner type establishment. And instead of drunken dancers there were middle aged to elderly Jewish folk sitting politely at tables facing the stage, sipping their one cocktail or glass of wine that would probably be a bit too much for one evening. Between sets, I was sitting next to my friend when a small man of about 70 approached us. He grabbed her hand with both of his and did not let go for the entire length of conversation to follow. He said in a Russian/New Jersey Jewish accent. "Hello. I am your cousin. You have never met me." She responds slightly apprehensively but cheerful, "Hi, really you're my cousin? how come we havent met before?" He says "well, I came from Europe. While in Europe I wore your cousin Phil's Barmitzva suit." At this point I started laughing pretty hard, but tried as best as I could to restrain myself. The conversation continued and he further explained his connection to her and her family. I had a smile on my face for the rest of the evening and repeated aloud multiple times in my very best pseudo Russian New Jersey little Jewish old man accent, "Hello. I am your cousin. While in Europe, I wore your cousin Phil's Barmitzva suit."