Tanta Pesha has just informed me that I should tell all my good friends (and that means all of you) about the facts of life concerning the Bar or Bat Mitzvah. I hope you didn’t get too concerned when I mentioned “facts of life” because I am well aware that this is a family oriented column. To begin with, the principal participants in the affair are not the emerging teenager, nor his parents nor even the Rabbi or Cantor. It isn’t even all those friends who tell you what the table decorations should be or what color is in this year for yarmulkes. It isn’t even Fat Rosie who might want you to know where you can get an authentic Israeli tallis at a real good price. Rather it is the photographer and the caterer. First of all, all photographers are Jerry, except for those who are Al. And so to prepare for the big event we met with the photographer several weeks in advance so that we could choose a time and a date when family pictures could be taken. We also thought that it might be a good idea to lay down a few ground rules beforehand.

So here is a taste of the discussion:

US: I thought that we should organize a few things before the actual ceremony. Don’t you agree, Jerry?

PHOTOGRAPHER: It’s Al.

US: Whatever. We want this to be a very relaxed situation. So perhaps we can have the pictures taken just a day or two in advance. No gimmicks. Just some pleasant family pictures and the youngster should be highlighted, so a few nice portraits pictures there. You understand, Al.

PHOTOGRAPHER: Perfectly. We will meet in the synagogue a day before and we will take a few simple pictures and a few family ones as well. No fanfare. One, two, three’ . . . no fanfare. Before you know it, we will be finished and we can all leave and I will have the proofs in ten days or so, give or take. And you can call me, Jerry.

So I ask, why on the day before did he come an hour late bringing along a batch of boxes of different shapes and sizes along with mirrors and even a cane. Everything but a whip and chains and a spiked riding crop. For a minute, I thought that the kid was going to star in one of those flicks that is XXXX. (No Tanta Pesha, those are not hugs and kisses.) As for the caterer, well he is a breed apart. You sit down and tell him that it’s going to be simple. Just a small luncheon and you don’t need potato puffs. His potato puffs. His

immediate response to you is, “Whoever heard of a Bar Mitzvah celebration without potato puffs?” And when you tell him that the Bar Mitvah cake should be a chocolate cake. He smiles and says, “of course, it will be delicious.” And after all he informs you that since you don’t want broccoli he will be happy to provide you with Belgian carrots and just a hint of cinnamon and honey for a glaze. And at the luncheon, you discover that the chocolate cake turned out to be mocha and the caterer wonders at our bewilderment since after all how different is mocha from chocolate?

And then the big event and a week later will come the revues. All the guests comment on the “affair.” A few even mention how well the youngster read from the Torah and how well his speech went. But most spoke of how absolutely beautiful the day was emphasizing what went on after the Service. Practically everyone states the potato puffs melted in your mouth, that the carrots were sweet as sugar and the cake . . . that magnificent cake was out of this world. “So tell me was that really “mocha”? And just in case you are still a little bit hesitant about the success of this important event, not to worry. It’s all there captured in bigger-than-life pictures - complete with mirrors and boxes.

So as the days pass and all this is stored in your memory bank, just in case you need a few bits of sage advice from those who are wiser than we are, turn to the words of wisdom offered by the good Tanta Pesha, “Enough already.”

Now be real and it’s back to the salt-free cottage cheese. Enjoy!