SIDE EFFECTS

Bet you are thinking that here goes another diatribe re side effect excuses for not getting the vaccine. Or perhaps the side effects that arise from this nonsensical and dangerous game of chicken over the debt, the infrastructure's necessity for infusions of cash. And why. Uh-oh, here comes the shadow of Trump. Well, you are wrong. Yes, these are indeed issues of great importance, but this morning - a different take on side effects.

Every year, in September/October, depending on the Jewish calendar, there are days of great challenge for members of the Jewish religion, particularly those who are more stringent about observance. First there are the two days of Rosh Hashanah and then comes the meal before  Yom Kippur and then the break the fast meal. Four days later are the two first days of Sukkot, followed by four days of semi holiday, topped off by yet two more days of holiday at the end.

Sounds great right? Wrong. Ever so wrong. See, this is one proof that G-d is more male in character as no woman in her right mind would schedule so many days of holiday so closely. The resulting demands are exhaustive and exhausting. Trust me. I know. Been there, done that, still doing so, though at a lesser pace as the next generation picks up the responsibility.

What responsibility? That of the food! One holiday festive meal after another. Families and friends gathering. Friendly (yet, at times ruthless) competition over the lavishness, the variety, the complicated dishes that appear on the table, one after the other. Then the bemoaning by the hostess how so much food is remaining. Followed by the bright face of said hostess as she realizes how many meals could be gotten out of the leftovers. Thinking ahead to the next meal, to the next holiday, to the next year all the while her tablemates are groaning at the thought of more food, more meals, the food that accompanies the family on holiday outings. Then - the worst. The dreaded side effect. What could it be?

Even as all are sitting around the table, or relaxing and indulging in the holiday 'grazing' . There is that dread that stares them in the eye. That haunts their days and nights. That permeates every forkful, every luscious bite of sheer indulgence. What could be so consuming of thought, of mind? And eventually the body? Well, hint.

 There are the new clothes bought for the holiday, for the new season. There they are, sending out warning rays. Do not eat. Do not eat. Skip the desserts. Most definitely. But how could that be, when the desserts are so tempting: the sweet melons, the tart fruit and the cakes oh, the cakes.

So we make excuses. We are celebrating holidays, sharing in joy, in the holidays which have kept us together through the centuries. We gladden the heart of the hostess as she 'kvells' at how well it all went, already thinking of the next year, what could be improved, how could she outdo herself - and her friends! And we are celebrating even as we remember and recall the times in history when there was no food on the table, none to be had, a bad time for Jews, oppressed, imprisoned in ghettos,  prisons, concentration camps, denied economic opportunities, education. So we rejoice at the changes that came our way. So, we eat. a forkful for us. A forkful for our ancestors.

But wait. There are the days and meals of the Sabbath as well. By now we are all rolling around, real and true roly-polys - and here are the clothes, hanging in plain sight. Especially the garment awaiting that special occasion. You have to, must, no two ways about it, fit into that gown. No alternative. Even as you look down at the scale and wonder -"how did that happen". Even as you tug on the zipper a bit more and hold your breathe. But try doing that for five or six hours. Uh-uh.

And so you are now the official sufferer of the dreaded side effect of the holidays. Weight gain, at precisely the wrong time. That sneaky little pot belly coming to visit again, hanging around way too long. But, honestly is there ever a right time for that - weight gain and tummies? For that looming threat, the catastrophe of having nothing to wear at the wedding, the bar mitzvah, whatever. Every bite comes back to haunt you. Every luscious piece of cake, every indulgence, bites you back.

So, the next side effect - the drastic crash diet. The anxiety level every morning as the scale that haunts your dreams is right there at your feet. The hard work ensues. The promise to never do this again, never to indulge so much - and never to be kept. Not in the holiday spirit after all.

Uh oh. Just realized that Chanukah is right around the corner. More family gatherings. More friends for dinner. More latkes. More sufganiyot (filled pastries, with custard, chocolate, jelly, whipped cream - anything that is bad for you but sooooo yummy. The scale shivers under your feet, trying so hard to gain your attention, warn you of oncoming danger, but you stalwartly ignore it. Your goal for that gown has been met. Chanukah? Well, it will have to take care of itself, as usual, for the side effect, especially when shared with families and friends, the commemoration of our history and heritage - those are the true meaning, the true side effects. Think we'll struggle through another year, all the better! Scale, get thee gone!