Father of the Bat Mitzvah

I would like to say a few words about bat mitzvahs. I’ve just been through one. Not my own, my daughter’s. Some of you might understand. You have a little girl. She looks up to you. She appreciates your love of bagels, cream cheese and lox. Herring and whitefish salad not so much, but she likes latkes and brisket and Dr Brown’s CelRay. She enjoys going to the temple for Purim, Sukkot, and Simchat Torah. But then the day comes when she starts bat mitzvah classes, and from that day on, you’re in a bit of a panic. What kind of party are you gonna have? Will there be a band, a DJ? Where will it be? How much will it cost? So you don’t worry about it. You say to yourself, I’ve got plenty of time to worry about that. I’ll just put off thinking about it. And then suddenly it is upon you…

You love your wife — for any number of reasons. Plus she has a good eye, and a vision. The bat mitzvah will be something sophisticated, elegant. Warm, inviting. Not too big.

You’re cool with that and most importantly your daughter is cool with that. Further, your daughter wants a DJ. She wants her songs; the Stones, the Beatles, Taylor Swift. Also that Guided By Voices song you turned her on to.

You set up a block of rooms at a nearby hotel and decide to have the party there as well. It’s an ‘historic’ building but you like that it’s not all glass and steel and razor sharp…