While the next part of the ‘shape up’ series will be shortly forthcoming, I’m a bit harried today, as I leave early tomorrow morning to Boston. One of my closest friends, Bobby Den, gets married a week from Sunday, and I’ll be serving as his best man (leaving him in the very dangerous position of handing me a microphone in front of his family and our mutual friends). Bobby has, over the past few years, become increasingly religious, and so this weekend I’m attending his aufruf, a Jewish tradition of having the groom come up to the Torah the Shabbat before his wedding.

The aufruf stems from a story about King Solomon, who supposedly had two special rooms added to the great Temple, one for mourners and the other for grooms, so the mourners could be consoled and the bridegrooms blessed. In the centuries since the Temple was destroyed, however, a custom evolved to instead have the groom come to synagogue before the wedding so people could bless him there. So I’m whipping out a yarmulke, dusting off my Hebrew, and heading up the coast to catch the action. A joyous occasion, an aufruf is celebrated with food and drink and more drink, so it could be a long night.

Further, as I’ll be staying the weekend, I’ll also likely be joining Bobby at synagogue to celebrate Purim, a Jewish holiday based on the book of Esther. The holiday lauds Esther, the queen of Persia, for owning up to her Judaism and standing up to her husband, King Ahashueras, to save her people from massacre at the hands of Haman, Ahashueras’ right-hand man. The celebration involves not only a reading of the book of Esther, but a Talmudic command to drink “ad d’lo yada”, or “until one can’t tell the difference” between the names of Haman and Esther’s uncle Mordechai. (Side note: Exactly how undercover could Esther’s Judaism have been considering she had an Uncle Mordechai?) In other words, the Talmud says I have to get blitzed. And who am I to forsake centuries of Jewish wisdom?

Steady, liver, this could be a long couple of days.