On the First Night of Chanukah…

… my true love fled from me /
On a train bound for Washington D.C.

The Jewish holidays aren’t really known for their catchy tunes. Which is maybe why all the talented Jewish composers went on to write Christmas songs. It’s a much jazzier holiday.

But I’m serious about Mrs. Fussy. I just got back from the desert. I tagged in. She tagged out. Now it’s my turn to be alone with the kids for a few days. Except one of the big differences is that Chanukah starts tonight. Oy.

You know all that holiday shopping you haven’t done yet? Well I haven’t done any. Zero. Zilch. It might have been smart to pick up some trinkets in Arizona, but I was traveling light. No room for trinkets. Fortunately, there’s Ta-Da!, which has saved my butt more times than I care to admit. It’s a fun store filled with fanciful stuff for kids of all genders (and ages) and cool stuff for geeks of all stripes.

Speaking of holiday songs, though, there was one that I just happened to catch when I was with my cousin’s kids. I’m not sure if that makes them my second cousins, or my cousins once removed, or what. I’m terrible at that game. Anyhow, it was some kind of cartoon show on Netflix with a little bit by Ben Schwartz.

It’s called “Eight Days of Latkes” and it speaks to me.

This is my favorite holiday. As a kid it was because of the presents. As an adult it’s because of the green light to eat fried foods. Especially since my recent diet has prohibited these treats on most occasions.

I’ve already got a couple latke nights on the books.

Thursday night I’m going over to Silly Goose Farm where Fox has invited the Fussies for a festive holiday meal. Friday night I’m off to another friend’s house where three Jewish families will converge with menorahs ablaze. Sunday is latke night at Congregation Gates of Heaven. It’s fantastic. I think there was someone I was supposed to invite along to that this year, but it’s escaping me at the moment. Drat. Was it you?

With Mrs. Fussy gone, it might be prime time to fry potatoes with onions in them. The smell of the onions and the oil really lingers. It would be breaking my prohibition against frying at home. But maybe that’s what should happen when the wife leaves you with the kids.

That means I’ll have to pick up some ingredients. We’ve got the basics. But I will need sour cream for me, and apple sauce for the kids. One of the shortfalls of Ben’s song is that he doesn’t slather up those pancakes with full fat, cultured diary.

I love that know we have a kickass song about latkes, but they are just one fried food out of many. I’m going to have a lot of treats this week.

What I don’t have a lot of are presents for the kids. And I’ve got actual meetings today, with actual people. In fact I was double booked and am missing out on the Uber Eats launch announcement. But that’s happening today too. The Uber people asked me to tell you.

Apparently this is big news for those sad souls who get take out on a regular basis.

So I’ve got to jet. Have a great Chanukah. And even if you aren’t Jewish, I hope you can go about your day indulging in a bit of fried goodness. You don’t have to worry about cultural appropriation. You’ve got my blessing.