In a few weeks, Clover, Neptune and I are going on a Grand Adventure. We are headed off to their cousin's bar mitzvah. (And, heck, we'll call him "Mitzvah" for this blog, because my understanding is that doing a "mitzvah" for someone is to perform a kindness, and this boy is certainly kind.)
I have never been to a bar mitzvah before, though I understand that many people practically lived at the events all the way through their middle school years. I hear there is dancing. I hear there are games. I hear there is a reallllly looonnng serrrviiice (which, actually, I'm quite looking forward to-- I think Mitzvah will do a wonderful job with his part of the service, and I can't wait to see him do it.)
I've never even been to a synagogue, so this will all be new to me. I anticipate being fascinated, entertained, amused by the young teenage frivolity at the reception, and enjoying myself thoroughly.
Though, of course, I will not tell you When we are going, or Where we are going (because, after all, this is the internet, and one of you might be a PSYCHO KILLER-- hey, you never know), I will tell you this-- it involves a plane trip. And planes ALWAYS mean adventure. This is true partially because of the distance involved (if you're getting on a plane, after all, it means you're going a significant way from home), and partially because there are a series of plane-related Wonderies and Potentials:
- Will the plane be delayed, or arrive on time? Or even early?
- Will there be a screaming baby, an enthusiastic child kicking my seat from behind, or any particularly Interesting Characters? (Planes and airports are always good for people watching.)
- Will all luggage and carry on pieces arrive with you at your destination?
- Will the beverage trolly carry delicious options? (The answer to this is ALWAYS yes, because Ginger Ale is remarkably delicious on airplanes.)
More stories after the fact, of course, but for now?
I'm so excited.