We just had our seudah, and I still feel a little drunk. Or maybe it’s just tired from lack of sleep this week.
Every year my Purims are totally different. I don’t have a feel for what a “normal” Purim is yet; I find that this happens to me often with different chagim. For example, I haven’t been home for Rosh Hashanah in 11 years, since I was 12 years old, and I really don’t know what minhagim we have, if any. I assume we do the whole fish head, pomegranate, apple in honey thing, but I really have no idea.
On the other hand, Purim is the only chag that varies so exceptionally in its observance, from one extreme to the other. Some Purim memories I have:
12th grade, Ner Yisroel. I didn’t drink much, but the entire yeshiva lane got trashed (Trashed? Pissed? Wasted? High? I have trouble keeping track of what refers to drink and what refers to drugs; I think it keeps changing every year. As far as I knew (And I’m sure I’m wrong, but that’s besides the point.) there were no drugs in Ner Yisroel, so trashed means alcohol.). The gemarah says that when a person gets drunk, what you see is his true self, and I believe that’s true. It’s incredible how many yeshiva boys have crushes on their rebbe’s daughters, and equally incredible how many rebbe’s daughters don’t learn their lesson and stay away from their father’s seudahs.
2nd year, KBY. I went to Mike’s place with Asaf Weingarten and a few other Brits. Asaf gave me drink after drink of something he assures me “wasn’t very strong,” and soon I was throwing up on the street. It wasn’t entirely his fault, I guess, I was a bit of a Cadbury back in those days (Thank you Adina.). Moshe and Yitzchak (True friends.), rescued me and drove me to the Mir, where Dani Ungar (Another true friend.) got me a bed, where I spent the next twenty four hours. To this day I have no idea how they found me, or even how they knew Dani Ungar.
Last year, in the army. I have such a clear memory of one of the funniest kriyot hamegilla I have ever heard. Chabadnikim were roaming the city, looking for soldiers on guard duty so they could read the megilla for him and give him coke, hamentashim, krenbos (possibly the most disgusting food ever created by man.), and chabad paraphenilia (possibly the most disgusting…. I’m not going to get into that.). Two guys would go, emdah to emdah, one reading as fast as he can, the other just going nuts every time they say “Haman.” And I mean go nuts; this guy was out of control. I had already heard the megilla in the base beis (funny… I never called it that while I was in the army.), and was just hanging out talking to a friend of mine who was on shmira, when the chabadnikim came, and, without warning, proceeded to do their thing. What we didn’t tell them was that while only I had already heard the megilla, my friend wasn’t even Jewish; he was a Samaritan, which meant he only kept D’oraiytas. Of course, we didn’t tell them, we let them go on for a half an hour more, and then we ate their food.
I have a feeling I should look this post over and maybe wait until tomorrow to put it up, but I’m tired, so here it goes. Enjoy.