HAPPY HANUKKAH 2017

As I’m sitting here, staring at this blank page for the umpteenth time, I realize that, with as much as I have to say about everything else in life, Hanukkah always stumps me.

To give me some inspiration, I just looked over my last few columns on this holiday, but basically, I explained how so many different spellings of the word are acceptable. (But I still hate choosing one! Always have.) If you don’t like the way I spelled it this year, here are my thoughts on that topic, which were first published three years ago: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/holiday-happy-hannukah-2014.

So, I thought that maybe I’d share some of my Hanukkah memories with you this year. But then I realized that I really have only two strong ones, in my whole life! And they’re nothing too special. One is of having my parents in L.A. for it, shortly after Mr. X and I moved into our house. I had not celebrated this holiday for a zillion years at that point, so having my fun mother and father here for those eight days, and all of us giving each other gifts every night of it, was special.

The other was in New York, with my friends Joanne and Samara. One of their neighbors had a latke party on the first night of Channukah, and just as I was beginning to get into the fun, and having warm feelings about the get-together, my brother and his wife showed up to take me back to Brooklyn, and practically wrenched me out of there! Lovely holiday behavior.

But that’s really about it for Hannukah memories. No one I know in LA seems to do much to celebrate, which is kind-of sad. But I always do a festive menorah in my house. I used to use one with a sports ball motif, but the second I laid eyes on my current one, which is a rendition of the big Crayola box, I was in love! Crayons and sports—two of my all-time favorite things in life!

I actually do have one more wonderful Channukah memory, but it’s more of what happened after that’s the amazing part. It’s really too long to explain here, but when I returned home following a cozy latke party at a fan’s house in Brentwood, I realized something that became the impetus for my beloved Clarence to be in our lives. It had nothing to do with the actual holiday, but the two events will always be associated in my mind. So that’s a good thing. Actually, a wonderful thing! (Maybe I’ll tell you about it down the line in one of my YouTube videos. In case you don’t already subscribe, here’s that link: www.youtube.com/channel/UCF7mwI2jwcB2xB9dBCBxLZg.)

Anyway, I wish every single one of my readers who is of my ethnic persuasion, (and some who are not, but still celebrate Hanukkah for one reason or another—I’m talking to you, Carol Rampino!,) a wonderful and festive holiday! All eight nights of it!