Every year my nephew Yitzhak, nee Eric, comes from Israel and stayed with me so that he could say something Jewish on his mother’s, my sister Phyllis’, grave.

This year her praying time came very close to Thanksgiving so he wanted to know if it would be an imposition for him to share the holiday with us.

Now this is no minor thing.

Though I do make Thanksgiving for the family, and we have a big family, there were 4 sisters, it isn’t that difficult a job because I usually just order Indian food. All I have to do is throw out a few cheeses and a cracker or two. Maybe a couple of pigs in blankets.

My sister Marcia always makes desserts

Now if Yitzhak comes all that goes out the window. He is kosher but not regular kosher, glatt kosher. The glatt is hebrew for fucking nuts.

Still I don’t even think twice. The thought of having him with us for Thanksgiving is too great. We’ll just have a traditional Thanksgiving and kosher it up.

Marcia and I can handle it even if it is a pain in the ass.

He can’t eat any food that isn’t kosher. He can’t touch any of my dishes, glasses, or silverware. So it’s all paper plates and cups and plastic silverware.

Yitzhak has 10 children. When 9 of them hear about him coming for Thanksgiving it was just too tempting. One of his daughters, Chaya has just had a baby so the kid was coming too. That makes 11.

When the American family hears that they are coming they are so excited. My nephew Barry who lives in Oregon even flies in. He and Yitzhak are the same age but haven’t seen each other for probably 40 years.

Now where will all these people sleep?

I have sleeping with couches etc for 5. That won’t do. I buy 5 blow up beds but it’s still touchy.

Then I decided to sell my piano. It takes up a huge amount of space and has become nothing more than a place to put family photos since the guy who played the piano ran away.

Luckily Jim Pugh, the best trombone player in the world and the sweetest guy was in New York with Steely Dan. He looked at the piano and decided to buy it for his son and daughter.

With that money I bought another sleeper couch. That made sleeping for 7. That took care of the boys. Where would I put the 3 girls and the baby?

Liz offered her apartment at first for my nephew Brian’s family but they found someplace else to stay so that was settled.

I just realized how boring this is getting.

No reason going into carving a turkey with a plastic knife and the long list of instructions Yitzhak gave me and Marcia to keep his family from eternal damnation.That will just make it more boring.

The Israeli kids are so happy and loving that it almost made me rethink my casual attitude towards religion…. almost.

Some of them don’t speak english but they make every effort to be understood and the one’s that do speak english translate.

Yitzhak’s youngest son understands english perfectly but he’s uncomfortable speaking it. He’s so adorable. He’s the only one who isn’t married. I told Yitzhak that if the kid would lose the beanie I could get him laid in 5 minutes.

I must pat myself on the back for thinking of name tags. That way the Israeli kids and the American kids will know each other’s names. Each  sister’s children would have their names written in the same color.

Ray, my family

Barry and Yitzhak

Everyone was so happy to be together.

The Entire Smith Connection.

But it wasn’t mighty Casey who struck out.

She stood with dignity against taunts about her family.

She waited for her chance to speak while the Other sent threats her way.

She listened while her years of public service were ridiculed and ignored.

She responded to hate and division with promises of working together and remaining great.

She heard the Other call her a criminal for using the wrong email while he proudly boasted about assaulting women against their will.

She responded to blatant lies with truths.

She gathered her friends and admirers to help her explain the wonderful plans she had for Muddville while he stood alone because even those who put him there didn’t want to be seen with him.

No it wasn’t Casey who struck out.

It was Muddville.

She was just too good for Muddville which turned out to be a dumber and meaner place than she thought.

My sweet friend Susan’s daughter Nicole had a bridal shower yesterday.

It was really fancy. Everywhere you looked there was something highfalutin to eat or drink, caviar, rare cheeses and luckily m&m’s WITH peanuts. I plopped myself right down next to them.

Plus Martha Stewart was there.

Nicole or Daisy, as she is known, is Martha’s make up artist and clearly friend since Martha didn’t just make an appearance, she stayed the whole time. I found it interesting that she was much smaller than I expected and really quite beautiful.

I was on my best behavior. I didn’t want to embarrass Sue and Nicole so I told the bartender to make my drinks strong enough so that I could get a buzz but not so strong that I’d take out my tits.

While I was sitting on the couch nursing my cocktail and shoving m&m’s in my mouth I went over what I’d say when I was introduced to Martha.

I finally settled on “Charmed, I’m sure”. I was thinking that if I said it in kind of an english accent I might impress her enough to invite me to one of her soirees.

I had already sent the couple a lovely engagement gift.  Even though I adore Nicole and have since she was a baby I saw no reason to give her a shower gift too.

I’m a woman alone and I’m counting my pennies but I didn’t want to look cheap to the other guests (Martha) so I gift wrapped a can of corn and just hoped that there wouldn’t be some big present opening section of the festivities.

I’m not really good at parties and I think the bartender may  have begun to ignore my instructions since I felt a bit warm and when I opened up my top button I figured that it was time for me to make my exit.

Next to the m&m’s were some coasters with the sweet couple’s photo on them. I assumed they were remembrances for the guests so as I was leaving I slipped one in my purse.

Hey if they didn’t want anyone to take them they should have glued them down.