Dear reader, your proud columnist has been humbled

Dear Loyal Reader,

You might have noticed that, for technical reasons, my regular biweekly column, Second Thoughts, did not appear last week. I hope you were not too upset, and managed, despite this heavy disappointment, to somehow make it through that Shabbos and weekend.

BE comforted in the assurance that the column will once again surface next week, G-d willing.

May I be frank with you? I was fearful of a strong reaction when word spread that the column was missing. Mishpacha, after all, has about 150,000 subscribers, according to reliable estimates, and is read by over 200,000 people. Do the math: Even if only ten percent of the readers of Second Thoughts were to demand to know why it was missing, that would still amount to quite a potent 15,000–20,000 angry readers. And even if only one single percent were to express their annoyance, that would still be over 1,000 strong.

Based on what my readers have been telling me for years — that Second Thoughts is the first item they turn to; that they wait for it breathlessly every other week; that it brightens up their Shabbos experience — I began to feel that with all this fulsome admiration, who knows, could the Pulitzer be far behind? After all, those intelligent and perceptive folks who admire the column couldn’t all be wrong.

My fantasy went into overdrive, and soon enough I became apprehensive that 1,000 of my readers would pound on the doors of Mishpacha and demand an explanation; that they would threaten mass subscription cancellations; that they would hold mass rallies and demand public apologies. In my fantasy I tried to reason with the angry crowds and urge them to remain calm, but despite my pleas, they would not be still. I was very touched by such loyalty.

But here my fantasy bubble came to an abrupt end, because somehow (maybe also for technical reasons), the anticipated reaction never materialized. Of the one percent, not even one-tenth of one percent reacted in any way. In fact, it is possible that they never even noticed the glaring gap in the magazine. There were no protests, no banging on doors, no cancellations, not even a single letter to the editor. Nada, gornisht, rien, niente, klum — in any language, the reaction was a huge, eloquent yawn.

Dear reader, your proud columnist has been humbled. No longer does he fantasize foolishly about Pulitzers; no longer does popular acclaim have any meaning. A glimmer of reality has descended upon him, and now he is beginning to realize — however painfully — that despite the kind words of readers, it is quite possible that he is not really G-d’s gift to literature. He is content now just to be an ordinary, everyday scrivener who works hard to produce a readable column — some fairly good, some mediocre — every other week, and hopes that his readers will find it worth their time. And if occasionally a column is missing, nisht geferlich and lo nora, life will continue to hum along. In this season of repentance and introspection, the recognition that the universe does not revolve around the Me is not inappropriate.

By all means, keep on offering compliments if you insist. I am human, and will graciously acknowledge your kind words. But please forgive me if, on second thought, I don’t take the accolades too seriously.

………………………………….

But wait! Listen! What is that sound of shouting out in the streets? Is it a protest? Could it be that finally…?

No… that sound is only some raucous boys kicking a football. My humility remains intact — at least for now….

Your humbled writer,

EF

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1028)