O Finkelstein, O Finkelstein,
Made tzoris for his family!
He scammed old folks but then caught
Four years in jail left to rot.
O Finkelstein, O Finkelstein,
Made tzoris for his family!
Izzie Finkelstein was back after four years in a North Carolinian prison, locked up with the Bubbas, Leroys and extras from the cast of Deliverance. A beaten man, all traces of chutzpah gone. Was he Izzie, or but a zombie longing for eternal rest?
But some wishes come true and after when Izzie visited his schizophrenic son in the group home, he dropped dead. From enough, from everything, from the mess of the life he engineered. Another prolonged and sad Act 3 for one more family on the boulevard of shattered dreams.
The Epilogue, the Reunion: The Funeral and the Shiva
The Finkelsteins worked hard to rehabilitate Izzie's reputation at his funeral. Hershie picked up the tab, so they were able to rent the big hall and the turnout was decent with close to three hundred heads.
"...Above all, my father was a family man," Pammy, his daughter eulogized, which wasn't untrue when Izzie wasn't at the horse track or playing cards with the wise-guys. "Sadly though, my father was diagnosed with a bipolar condition," or so surmised his sister-in-law Abby, who read lots of psychology books. "And that led to some erratic business decisions..." Like plotting elaborate telemarketing schemes that targeted the elderly in southern states by pitching them that they won a sweepstakes, but before claiming their prize they had to pay certain administrative and lawyers' fees.
The rabbi spoke of Izzie's dedication to the congregation. "Izzie was the anchor of choir whose sweet voice ensured that our prayers were well received in heaven. And for myself, on a personal level, Izzie WAS the choir. Every Rosh Hashanah, every Yom Kippur, Izzie was there, right next to me..." Something that everyone was well aware of, especially the cantor.
"That Izzie, if he pushed his way any closer to the rabbi, he'd be in his beard!"
Finkie cruised through the funeral on his lithium meds. Dead, alive, speeches, condolences. What did he know? What did he care?
"Have you seen Litwack? Have you seen Litwack?" he repeated.
But Aaron Litwack, who grew up next door to Finkie and used to drive his bike precariously up and down the street on a 45 degree angle along the hypotenuse of the sidewalk was a no-show. Instead of moving out of town like the rest of the neighborhood gang, he went surreal. Over the years he would inexplicably appear in the most unusual places:
Harry was sitting on a plane on the runway on a flight to Fort Lauderdale one winter. It was snowing and the wings had to be de-iced. He nervously looked out the window and saw Litwack with the hose de-icing the wing. Litwack waved.
Made tzoris for his family!
He scammed old folks but then caught
Four years in jail left to rot.
O Finkelstein, O Finkelstein,
Made tzoris for his family!
Izzie Finkelstein was back after four years in a North Carolinian prison, locked up with the Bubbas, Leroys and extras from the cast of Deliverance. A beaten man, all traces of chutzpah gone. Was he Izzie, or but a zombie longing for eternal rest?
But some wishes come true and after when Izzie visited his schizophrenic son in the group home, he dropped dead. From enough, from everything, from the mess of the life he engineered. Another prolonged and sad Act 3 for one more family on the boulevard of shattered dreams.
The Epilogue, the Reunion: The Funeral and the Shiva
The Finkelsteins worked hard to rehabilitate Izzie's reputation at his funeral. Hershie picked up the tab, so they were able to rent the big hall and the turnout was decent with close to three hundred heads.
"...Above all, my father was a family man," Pammy, his daughter eulogized, which wasn't untrue when Izzie wasn't at the horse track or playing cards with the wise-guys. "Sadly though, my father was diagnosed with a bipolar condition," or so surmised his sister-in-law Abby, who read lots of psychology books. "And that led to some erratic business decisions..." Like plotting elaborate telemarketing schemes that targeted the elderly in southern states by pitching them that they won a sweepstakes, but before claiming their prize they had to pay certain administrative and lawyers' fees.
The rabbi spoke of Izzie's dedication to the congregation. "Izzie was the anchor of choir whose sweet voice ensured that our prayers were well received in heaven. And for myself, on a personal level, Izzie WAS the choir. Every Rosh Hashanah, every Yom Kippur, Izzie was there, right next to me..." Something that everyone was well aware of, especially the cantor.
"That Izzie, if he pushed his way any closer to the rabbi, he'd be in his beard!"
Finkie cruised through the funeral on his lithium meds. Dead, alive, speeches, condolences. What did he know? What did he care?
"Have you seen Litwack? Have you seen Litwack?" he repeated.
But Aaron Litwack, who grew up next door to Finkie and used to drive his bike precariously up and down the street on a 45 degree angle along the hypotenuse of the sidewalk was a no-show. Instead of moving out of town like the rest of the neighborhood gang, he went surreal. Over the years he would inexplicably appear in the most unusual places:
Harry was sitting on a plane on the runway on a flight to Fort Lauderdale one winter. It was snowing and the wings had to be de-iced. He nervously looked out the window and saw Litwack with the hose de-icing the wing. Litwack waved.
Before Passover a couple of years ago, Craig Firestone went up to Mrs. Heck’s pickles and condiments to buy (wholesale) some kosher dills, half- sours and sour tomatoes. Who turned out to be the new master brine-maker? Litwack.
And while visiting art galleries in SOHO one Thanksgiving, Maury Fishbein stumbled across a ballyhooed performance art show in a prestigious art gallery entitled, Not a Caged Doggy. Who was the performance artist? Litwack. Dressed in diapers, sitting in a dog crate lined with newspapers, repeating ad nauseum the unintelligible phrase, “Uggy dug, uggy dug, uggy dug.” The grand finale was when the gallery owner threw a table cloth over the dog crate, and when he took it off, Litwack was gone.
There were other reported unusual, if not disturbing Litwack sightings, which prompted Finkie to form a Litwack Sighting Society. Harry theorized that somehow that society had a linkage to Finkie's own quantum leap into the schizophrenic surreal.
But for Harry the whole experience of Izzie Finkelstein’s funeral and shiva seemed more like a farewell party to the neighbourhood, the city and the people he grew up with. It seemed like everyone showed up, whether in just legend or in the flesh.
There were other reported unusual, if not disturbing Litwack sightings, which prompted Finkie to form a Litwack Sighting Society. Harry theorized that somehow that society had a linkage to Finkie's own quantum leap into the schizophrenic surreal.
But for Harry the whole experience of Izzie Finkelstein’s funeral and shiva seemed more like a farewell party to the neighbourhood, the city and the people he grew up with. It seemed like everyone showed up, whether in just legend or in the flesh.
Norman Bailey, the fat shy kid who lived in front of the 292 bus stop, and now an inspector for the Montreal Urban Transport Society was offering his condolences to Finkie’s mother, Brenda. Norman Bailey, it had been years since Harry last saw him sitting quietly on his balcony on the corner listening to Queen, eating smoked meat sandwiches while recording in his logbook the passings of the 292 bus.
“Always late!” Bailey would complain to anyone who’d listen, including the Montreal Urban Transport Society Commissioner to whom he mailed a photocopy of his 292 logbook. Bailey believed that anti-Semitism was the root of the chronic lateness.
“Always late!” Bailey would complain to anyone who’d listen, including the Montreal Urban Transport Society Commissioner to whom he mailed a photocopy of his 292 logbook. Bailey believed that anti-Semitism was the root of the chronic lateness.
“They deliberately don’t put enough buses on the route. I’ll bet you that the buses in the Jewless east end of Montreal run on time!” he’d rant when he wanted to impress the girls.
Harry’s face turned white when he saw the next couple in line to offer Izzie's widow, Brenda, their condolences: Magda and Vili Wax, the parents of Beno Wax, the third flunker to die. Oy vey, oy vey. A sign from The Almighty to get the hell out of Montreal or become a victim of the Fate of the Flunkers.
Harry’s face turned white when he saw the next couple in line to offer Izzie's widow, Brenda, their condolences: Magda and Vili Wax, the parents of Beno Wax, the third flunker to die. Oy vey, oy vey. A sign from The Almighty to get the hell out of Montreal or become a victim of the Fate of the Flunkers.
Beno Wax, Beno Wax, Beno Wax...It could have been argued that the other two flunkers, Kenny Frick and One-Ball Speigel had it comning to them, but Beno Wax, poor sweet Beno Wax was another story. And it all started with a cup of Deli Twins' barbecue sauce.
The famous sauce was loved by all in the nosy suburb of St. Antoine, but strictly as a condiment on their fries or chicken, not straight up like Beno. He used to chug it like Coke, which gave him some sort of lard high and turned him into a raving mental case. Or a super hero like Batman, or so thought Beno. He dash off during lunch for a cup of the sepia colored elixir and then spend recess running up and down the stairs to the school’s main entrance screaming, “Batman, Batman!” and then barf his grease-drenched guts out.
Beaver Beaudoin, the stout, buck-toothed school janitor, despised Beno Wax for the obvious reasons. No matter how much a janitor may be in love with his job, and Beaver loved his job like dear life itself, he never gets used to mopping up puke on a regular basis – even if it’s from a super hero like Batman. But when Beno barfed a projectile of vomit on the Quebec flag, Beaver had had enough.
“You can puke on my stairs, you can even puke on my head, but you cannot puke on my flag. Either that Beno Wax goes or I do,” Beaver threatened to Principal Resnick.
And that really was a threat to take seriously. Tupper Elementary School without Beaver? That would be the tragic loss of an institution. Beaver was the most beloved man in the school.
Who retrieved Finkie’s cherished autographed Hank Aaron baseball when Kenny Frick threw it up on the school roof?
Beaver.
Who fished out Ruthie Greenstein’s retainer from the dreaded third stall in the girl’s bathroom?
Beaver.
And whose daughter was it behind the dumpster, off whom Ira Shtern copped his first feel in sixth grade?
Beaver.
Principal Resnick acted swiftly and decisively, slapping Beno Wax with a lifetime ban from setting foot in Delly Boys during lunch recess and Beaver was temporarily appeased.
For two whole weeks, Beno went cold turkey and the school grounds remained as pristine and barf-free as an Arctic iceberg. There was however, economic fallout from the Beno Wax sauce ban. When Beno stopped hitting the sauce, people thought that there was something wrong with it and not not only stopped buying it, but stopped buying the barbecued chicken and French fries.
The co-owner of Deli Twins, Tito Carcinomas, lamented about his plummeting sales.
“No sauce, no business. The peoples is thinking that somethings wrong with the sauce if Beno no drink it. I swear on the tomb of my mother that Beno Wax will live again to drink my sauce – even if I have to give it to him for free!”
Free sauce?
One day after school Tito lured Beno over to the deli. His proposal to Beno: Barbecue sauce on the house for life. All Beno would have to do was to drink it in front of the restaurant. Any time, thereby dodging the Resnick edict.
But an addict is an addict and after a few days, Beno snuck off to Delly Boys during lunch to fuel his lard craving. He chugged down his contraband cup of sauce with a vengeance and then, of course, after the bell rang he hurled and hurled all over the stairs at school just when Principal Resnick was dashing off to his car.
“For Beno’s own good,” Resnick told Magda and Vili Wax, “he should repeat the school year.”
Has anything ever done in the name of “For your own good” not resulted in disaster? Incredibly, Villi, a tough Holocaust survivor agreed with Resnick.
“Beno is meshugenah, just like your brother, the world famous actor,” he told his wife during the meeting in Resnick’s office.
Ever since Magda's brother, Howard Shtern, (stage name: Steve Howard), inherited the entire Shtern fortune of six hundred and seventy thousand dollars and the condo in Florida, Vili Wax could not bear to utter his brother-in-law’s name.
“Thank God, we’re okay and don’t need the money,” Magda would say.
“We don’t need the money? Are you crazy? Do you know how the handbag business is these days?” Vili ran a small shoe and handbag repair shop in the east end.
“We’ll survive, Vili. We always do, but Mother was worried for Howard, that he couldn’t make a living. Since when is it a sin that a mother should provide for her son?”
“Since she has a hardworking son-in-law in the shoe and handbag repair business and a grandson who’s a complete meshuganeh. Howard the great actor, never worked a day in his life. What did he do to deserve all of the inheritance?” But Villi’s rants were all in vain and he knew it. Magad Wax would defend her useless baby brother till the bitter end.
“Howard is no meshuganeh,” Magda explained to Principal Resnick, “he just plays one on his show on CBC.”
“His show on CBC, she says,” Villi said. “The schlub has a bit part where he plays a retard. Since when does that make it his show?”
Resnick sighed and regretted that he never took that job at the Catholic school in NDG. Say what you want about goyim, about their drinking and hunting and passion for cars; but they infinitely easier to deal with than fellow yids.
“Getting back to Beno, Mr. and Mrs. Wax. He could use some maturity building. It would be best for everyone if we held him back a year. In the large scheme of things, a year is nothing in the course of a lifetime.”
“What’s a year?” Before he flunked, Beno Wax was just like everyone else, a little crazy – maybe? But who in St. Antoine wasn’t crazy? But when Beno Wax became a flunker, he was branded for life. And then the talk.
“What’s a year?” Before he flunked, Beno Wax was just like everyone else, a little crazy – maybe? But who in St. Antoine wasn’t crazy? But when Beno Wax became a flunker, he was branded for life. And then the talk.
“They dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”
“They squeezed the forceps too hard when he was born .”
“After four kids, there were no brains left for Beno.”
Fuck what they said. No one in St. Antoine knew anything, but they were always right. Beno Wax was just a barbeque sauce addict and a little odd – end of story. What could his parents do? Send him to a condiment detox center? Beno Wax deserved better.
Beno miserably plodded on through an undistinguished academic career, but managed to graduate high school. After high school he went into his father’s business and transformed it into a thriving shoe operation that including a wholesale division.
Anxious to put his loser days behind him and to become a player, Beno, who still lived at home bought himself a yellow Corvette Stingray. But alas, Beno couldn’t shake his past and his rep in the unforgiving eyes of St. Antoinites, he was still “the retarded flunker who puked barbecue sauce all over the school.” Even on at the synagogue on Yom Kippur, especially on that holiest of holies, Day of Atonement, they still mocked Beno. The man just couldn”t cut it in St. Antoine.
It was way past due for Beno to venture outside of the Golden Ghetto of St. Antoine. When he was twenty-one during Christmas break, Beno drove the yellow Vette down to Fort Lauderdale with his cousin, stuttering R-r-r-reuben F-f-f-fleigel.. He heard that the place was full of easy chicks from New Jersey. Maybe they’d do him just for his car?
It was way past due for Beno to venture outside of the Golden Ghetto of St. Antoine. When he was twenty-one during Christmas break, Beno drove the yellow Vette down to Fort Lauderdale with his cousin, stuttering R-r-r-reuben F-f-f-fleigel.. He heard that the place was full of easy chicks from New Jersey. Maybe they’d do him just for his car?
They did. Beno scored. Hallelujah!
Twice. First, with a pug breeder from Poughkeepsie who looked suspiciously part pug, and the second time with a doughy dental assistant from New Jersey named Darlene.
To celebrate, Beno treated Reuben to a rib dinner at Travis Stedry’s, famous for its spicy Texas barbeque sauce. O, how good that sauce tasted. Beno barely nibbled at his rack of ribs, before he chugged down three cups of sauce.
Then, after dinner, while crossing the street on the main strip, Beno had a Batman relapse. And so he bellowed out, “Baaaat-maaaan!!!!” Then he had a massive puking attack, so violent in fact, that he collapsed on the street. Tragically, Reuben couldn’t drag Beno who was lying in a pool of vomit in the middle of the A1A . A speeding black Trans Am ran him over
“At least he got l-l-laid before he d-d-died,” Reuben told mourners at the shiva.
R-r-r-reuben F-f-f-fleigel told the mourners at the shiva.
Harry hung in the corner and watched the Wax's leave. If the Curse of the Flunkers held true, he was next. Maybe it would be different if he left town. Move to L.A. But first there was a script to finish.
GARY
Ladies, that’s the last timed I let
Ladies, that’s the last timed I let
my friend go out unsupervised. I
hear he ruined the whole dinner...
JANA
It was my fault, Gary. I tickled
him too hard with the spatula.
JILL
But don”t worry. We ordered chicken.
HERB
Gary, these two are great. They should
be in the Hall of Fame. They soaked the
stains on my clothes. They opened their
closets to me, Gary. Feel this terrycloth.
I’ve never been so pampered in my whole life.
GARY
What about last week when your mummy
gave you a sponge-bath?
HERB
Low blow. You know I had tendonitis
in my shoulder. I was practically
disabled.
GARY
But did she actually have to be in
the tub with you?
HERB
We were wearing bathing suits!
JILL
I think it’s wonderful that Herb
has such a nurturing family. In
Sweden, whole families take saunas
together.
HERB
Sure! They’re all blond and gorgeous.
(TO HERB) You, on the other hand,
are bald and blubbery.
JANA
I think Herb is adorable. I’m sure his
parents are very handsome.
HERB
Don’t kid yourself. When they’re in
a fruit store standing next to the
cantaloupes, people squeeze their heads.
JILL
Herb, that’s not nice!
GARY
But accurate.
JANA
Gary, you haven’t been very nice to
Herb tonight.
GARY
Yeah, but I’m never nice to Herb.
HERB
I live to be abused by this man. It’s
the glue that holds us together.
and now that we’re dating sisters, we’re
so close, I’m practically inside him.
A BEAT..
GARY
Kind of like a demon seed.
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