Give a listen ... Take a number; give a number

I went to the supermarket last week. Straight to the deli section where I took a number — 18. A very good number because it’s the numerical value of the Hebrew word “chai” which means “life.” I always notice that number and any multiples of 18. Jewish people often give gifts and make donations with “chai” in mind. You might give $180 to buy a plaque in memory of somebody at your synagogue. If you could afford it, you could help build a Jewish museum with a donation of $7,200. You get the idea. For some people it’s a good luck thing. For others it’s a nice way of feeling your connection to the Tribe. But most of all, we can think of it as a reminder of Judaism’s great value of life itself.

So there I am, waiting my turn. I’m conjugating Spanish verbs in my head because lately nobody coming to my house speaks English. A few weeks ago the maid service sent three cleaners and none of them could say anything more than “hello, meester.” Give them some credit. By the rules of Spanish, the letter “i” is supposed to be pronounced like the double “e” in cheese. And cheese is one of the reasons why I’m waiting my turn at the market.

Getting back to my Spanish studies: earlier in the month we had our roof replaced. A very nice deal. Can you think of a number lower than one? That’s right. We had a marvelous warranty and didn’t have to pay a cent. Details in another story. Except this part: not one of the five men working to replace my roof could speak English. Considering that lately it’s been hard around here to find contractors at any price, I’m grateful for any help I can get — even if their only language is Spanish. And that’s why I’ve been studying the language the last six months. I’ve learned a bunch of adjectives, basic phrases, and verbs in the present tense and the infinitive — “limpiar la cocina (to clean the kitchen), “comer” (to eat), and “voy a volver a casa pronto” (I’m going to go home soon.) If 18 ever gets called....

Back to the deli line. My thoughts have now turned to wondering whether Hebrew is taught online by the same methods that are being used to teach Spanish. And if at similar prices — even Spanish courses up to an intermediate level are free — maybe more of us would make Aliyah to Israel. “86!!!” I’m jolted back to reality and the world of cold cuts and tuna salad. What? 86? How could that be? I look at my ticket: 81! They’ve gone past my number? I was daydreaming that intensely? No. Hold on. I had 18. Or did I? Was it upside down and really an 81? Oy vey. Where are my reading glasses? Whew! It was an 18 — just like I originally thought. And now they’re calling number nine. Oh, now I understand. What happened was that one of the clerks noticed that they were out of egg salad and yelled “86!” to alert the kitchen to replenish it. Meanwhile, I still have to wait for nine more numbers to be called. This is when my phone rings. It’s my wife. “Hi sweetie. I just got home. Will you be here soon?” My reply: “I’m at the market, waiting my turn at the deli. Let me ask you a question. Do you still want the sliced turkey for dinner?”

“Not really. On a scale of one to 10 I give it a three.” Now I know I don’t need to wait for my number 18 to be called and I best get back home.

We continue the discussion over my mobile phone. I ask the usual question: “Waddle it be?” That’s Jerry Lewis talk from the 1963 movie “The Nutty Professor” and translates to “what will it be?” We each make suggestions and assign a number to various restaurants based on how we’re feeling at this particular time. Bahama Breeze gets a seven — not especially high today. Anthony’s, a five because we were there recently. A new Turkish cafe? Only a three because they don’t have a liquor license as yet. The neighborhood Greek restaurant? 10! I readily agree that’s where we should have dinner. And that’s our system for deciding things.

Not only figuring out where to eat but also in other daily matters this is a helpful method for gauging where you and others stand. Selecting a color to paint the house. Buying a new piece of furniture. Getting a total knee replacement or first getting a series of injections. This reminds me of how we arrived at our “one to ten” decision-making method. It began at the doctor’s office. That’s where the nurse asks the patient what their “pain scale” is. One day, when dealing with clutter at home I realized that applying a number value to items could help organize my closet and my desk. A particular striped shirt from a much younger stage in my life rates a two; immediately it goes to the donation pile and a few hours later the closet is no longer jammed with clothing. Same for my office: receipts for discarded furniture and copies of consumer reports from 2002 merit no numerical rating whatsoever and go to the shredding pile.

The two of us make use of the ranking system in other matters.

Of course, it’s a great barometer as far as our social life. We may revisit something discussed the day before. One will ask “so, how are you feeling today about the new kosher buffet?” The answer will be “oh, a six.” The enthusiasm has dropped because someone unexpectedly showed up with a batch of blintzes last night and we had some. They were very good but as a result the appetite has changed to something different today. Same thing with a new movie. We were planning to see a particular documentary but now one of us has read a review and dropped their score from a nine to three. We’ll find some other entertainment.

Consider devising your own numerical rating system in making decisions and coming to agreements with your partner or other people.

Maybe you’d prefer the age-old method of one star to five stars. But the great part of “one to 10” is that it gives you a better feel for antipathy or hesitation. When one person is at a seven or less you have an opportunity to talk about it. Perhaps the matter isn’t very important to one of you and he or she is willing to go along with what you prefer. But you also might come up with an alternative that both of you can be enthusiastic about.

Bon appetit! Buen provecho! L’Chaim!

If you wish to comment or respond you can reach Steven at Singingrabbi@hotmail.com.