A Costly Cry for Attention

My Very First Suicide Attempt!

Judaism is characterized by regimented religious practice, tradition, and rites of passage. Overlap exists between the three but make no mistake, they are not one in the same. Take for example, circumcision. A Bris is not simply a tradition to the individual receiving it! Believe me, it’s a rite of passage! Blood in Blood out so to speak. Regardless the gravity associated with, “taking a little off the top,” the Bar/Bat Mitzvah is a much more emphasized tradition. The practice has only been around for about 2 centuries and regardless of its obvious creation to keep Judaism marketable, the Bar/Bat Mitzvah has become the quintessential rite of passage among Jews! Jewish Bubbies and Zaydis help spend thousands on little “boobaluh’s” 13^th birthday party! In fact, most postmodern Jewish rites of passage are associated with egregious cost.  The more lavish and extravagant the celebration the more Jewish the family is considered. Like the Protestant Work Ethic, Judaism encourages families to spend ALL of their money on credentials and religious crap. With all of that said, one of the most overpriced Jewish rites of passage:

The All Jewish Sleep Away Camp

Jewish parents from all over California dip into savings accounts to send little Moshe and Rachel to these all Jewish sleepaway camps. They’re typically tucked away in some remote California backwoods town and have housing amenities reminiscent of Japanese internment camps. Regardless, most Jewish kids find comfort among the company of their fellow tribe.  Never again will you see an entire basketball team with an all Jewish starting line-up. Unless you live in Israel or go to Northwestern University. Here at Jewish sleepaway camp, young Jews have their summer romances. Their first kisses. And, for a lucky few, their first futile suicide attempts.

I had made two or three friends while at summer camp. Most were pariahs just like me. I’d managed to alienate myself from most of the camp by acting impulsive and border line barbaric.  For example, in an attempt to woo a young woman, I found attractive, I attacked her.  It’s not what you think. I’m only in third grade. My head is so much bigger than my body that any huge movement, such as a ninja kick or rabbit punch, would throw my balance off completely. I’m harmless.  I think I pushed her after throwing water on her near the pool.  I must have made quite an impression because she smacked, scratched and kicked the shit out of me.

By week three of summer camp I had fought an attractive girl, said every odd thing imaginable and lied to other campers about sneaking in explosives called, “cherry bombs.” This was all to make friends and be appealing of course. Just like Judaism!

At this point during summer camp however, I’m all out of ideas.  Nothing left to do to get attention. Unless… I inflict harm to myself!

I decided to tell one of my fellow lepers I called a friend, “I’m going to end it all. My life isn’t worth living.”

I say this with a huge smile on my face and make my way to one of the cabins.  I’ve obviously never killed myself before so, where to being is a mystery.  I imagine that hanging myself from my neck wouldn’t be very good for my health. I find a bungee cord and begin to tie myself to the cabin door.  That’s when my buddy comes through the door and knocks me off the bed.

My half ass attempt to meet my maker, a plan I had concocted in about 15 minutes, was working well. I was dangling like a Marinette by my neck and starting to pass out.   I woke as my friend was frantically removing the bungee cord from around my neck. I fully gain consciousness and rise to my feet.  I look at my friend who seems just as bewildered as I am. Then, we start laughing. To be fair, a celebration was in order and laughing seemed perfectly reasonable. So was telling every fucking person I came in to contact with as I made my way through Jewish summer camp, “I just tried to kill myself.” 

My friend and I walked along to our next camp activity laughing and explaining the near-death experience I had so carelessly executed.  We were met with odd looks and a handful of questions. That was usually followed by more odd looks and eventual disinterest.  For a short time, I’m the talk of the town. So much so some of the staff take interest in me.

A few staff members eager to get to know me, convinced me it was in my best interest to hang out with them in what appeared to be the summer camp office. Jewish HQ.

I spent several hours chatting to a few staff members who seemed to be taking turns talking to me. So much attention was exhausting. After I’m brought dinner, I slowly fall asleep. This is all while talking to one of my new older friends. It never occurred to me that I had not been left alone since agreeing to spend time with the staff. I eventually fall asleep for a few long hours.

“Get up!”

These are the words I hear as I’m woken up in the middle of the night from Jewish summer camp, after a suicide attempt. The darkness makes it impossible to tell who the hell is waking me up. Oddly enough he sounds very much like my father.  Regardless of who he sounds like he seems a bit less friendly than my other new buddies. I’ll have to complain to the senior staff after whatever I’ve been woken up for is addressed. 

Oh, here! I’ll tell my mom about this rude person. Wait, mom is standing outside with several staff members. Why is my mom here?

I look back and I can now clearly make out the shadowy authority figure who woke me. It’s my father. And he’s really pissed. I’m hardly awake when I’m put into a car and driven away from the all Jewish asylum in the middle of the woods. I wake the next morning to my mother who is in my room putting away my clothes. She asks very calmly, “Do you know where you are?” I nod my head, “yes.” Although, I’m a bit confused as to, “Why?” What had I done that was so bad? To be banished from camp in the middle of the night.

The one thing I’m not confused about, my parents are pissed. Primarily because they would not be reimbursed for the cost of a full term at sleep away camp. I cost them thousands! And, a rite of fucking passage! 

As an adult it’s easier for me to understand my parent’s frustration. 

However, one haunting question still looms in my mind.

Why did no one ask me, “Why did you try to kill yourself?”

Being thrown out of schools, events and large gatherings became the norm. In fact, before I was thrown out of summer camp, I was thrown out of an all Jewish private elementary school.  The next private elementary school my parents decided on for about $15,000 a year was a Montessori School.  I felt honored to have the opportunity to be a total fuck up, using the Montessori Method.  My parents decided to place my two brothers and my one sister at a Montessori school where the two principals were loathed by most of the children and parents.  If the Grinch who stole Christmas had ever been mentored or schooled, it was most likely by Anne and Steve Temple, the Montessori School principals and owners.

9 times out of 10 my parents would play Devil’s Advocate toward any complaint I could muster regarding people, places and things. However, our disdain for our two principals was always validated.  My parents hated the two owners of the school! So much so, they felt obligated to lead a peaceful, yet aggravated reform movement backed by 90 percent of the student body’s parents! In the middle of this quiet coup my parents and two brothers began planning a huge birthday party… 

My older brother and I had birthdays within 12 days of one another and it only made sense, seeing as we had most of the same friends, we throw a huge school party together at our house.  What might not had made the most sense, was my father’s cooperation in constructing an effigy of my two wicked teachers with the sole purpose of defiling them in front of 3/4ths of the student body. While they were on fucking fire!

The day of our birthday party arrived and after several games, a ton of food and an all-around good time, my father, older brother and I pulled out the Wicker Man style effigy of our teachers from the garage.

It was unclear at first our intention or what this piss poor chicken wire recreation of a person was supposed to represent. Most of the 20 some odd students gathered around in awe.  It was made clear after a small synopsis the reason behind creating the effigy and without a second’s hesitation every child standing in wonder was brought together in shared contempt for our teachers! It didn’t stop there. We weren’t going to just stand around cursing at Voo Doo Dolls! Action must be taken to diffuse the energy of the group! Otherwise the masses, regardless of their age, might respond with their unchecked misdirected anger in the way of mutiny! So, my father grabbed a container of kerosene from the garage and proceeded to douse the entire mannequin!

Children’s jaws and eyes exploded open! Not even my father was prepared for what happened next...

My father struck a match and with a flame the size of a firefly, touched the fossil fuel-soaked effigy.  Immediately the Wicker Man was engulfed in a ball of fire. My father flew back from the speed and aggression in which it was ignited.  Children cheered and danced around the burning figure like a scene out of the novel “Lord of the Flies.”  It truly was a sight to see!  Children united, around a screaming hot, incredibly bright burning humanoid figurine.  Erected to represent their commander in chief from South Land Park Montessori School! Glorious! Beautiful! Unforgettable!

Then we all pissed on the ashes.

The next day all of us little hell raisers went back to school and nobody could keep their mouths shut.  Word of the middle school Montessori kids toppling a burning effigy of our teachers in our parent’s driveway like the statue of Saddam Hussein after the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003, spread like wildfire! If you had attended the birthday party, you were part of a distinct band of brothers who defied the two most hated people at school!  Overnight you were a celebrity! You were Arthur Fonzarellie. The Next Double Oh. Danny Zuko! Betty Rizzo! Everyone wanted to know what role you played in the biggest act of tyranny since the Boston Tea Party! 

Everyone wanted to know what happened… especially the two principals of the school.

As mentioned earlier, the parents of most children at this school were not happy about the lack of bang they were getting for their 15,000 bucks.  A town meeting, so to speak, was arranged and my parents spear headed the entire rally.  All the parents were to meet at the school on a weeknight and hammer out the reasons they felt unhappy with the school’s program.  My parents would arrive a bit late due to family obligations. When I say a bit late, I mean around 15 minutes after most of the other parents had arrived and took their seats inside the school. 

My parents were walking up to the school with every intention of letting the faculty know, they had had enough.  But, waiting for my parents halfway into the driveway of the institution was one of the principals, Steve. In Steve’s hand, a letter. 

The letter stated that my parent’s attendance to the school meeting was no longer necessary. Their children were no longer students.  We had just been expelled.

The principal left my parents outside the doors of the building, walked back inside and told the masses about the transaction. Just like that, the head of the snake was severed, and the rebellion quashed.  My parents just forfeited the rest of the year’s tuition and did so about three weeks into the school year.

My brother and I had not received too much of a scolding for being banished. Most of what got us expelled was either condoned or orchestrated by my father and mother.  The price tag however…

Phenomenal!

Price of two weeks of summer camp: $10,000

            Tuition for three weeks of private school (For two kids): $30,000

Total cost of mania to date: $90,000. 400 rupees (about 4 bucks).