Does a Mother’s Opinion Count for Nothing?

Well, yes.

And no. Of course Basha Rivka’s two cents is worth every penny because she is the mother after all, and let’s face it: you only have one mother, and if you don’t factor her views and assessments on the big picture, then her wisdom and experience are wasted.

Wasted! Your choice.

Yet in the practical sense, what difference can it make at this juncture? On the bright side, Basha Rivka is pleased; Los Angeles is a cultural hub, where a young man can be with his own kind at last, even if a proper wife is temporarily beyond reach.

Okay, so he married a sh… a lovely girl who just so happens to be go… not Jewish. If she makes babies and is good to Ravi, then they should both live and be well. Besides, once she sees the light, she may convert, for the children’s sake.

“But tell me something, Ravi. Aval tagid li, hi be-herayon?”

“No, Mother. She is not pregnant.”

“Why not?”

“Should I put her on the line?”

“I’m asking you.”

“Maybe she’s a virgin.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Yes I would. Tell me when.”

“When what?”

“When I can come to LA to visit my grandchildren.”

“It will be at least nine months from now.”

“God willing.”

“At least.”

“From your lips.”

“We’ll begin right away. Make your reservation.”

“I knew you would make me happy. Someday.”

“You did?”

“I hoped for the best. It’s all I can do.”

And so he tells his poor, lonely mother of his productive efforts in Tahiti, leading to his discovery as the foremost marine photographer in the world. One of, at any rate.

“Foremost, no less.”

“That’s what Oybek says. He knows. He does this for a living.”

“So now you might make a living too, still with the bubbles but with some shekels too. Did you cash the check?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to deposit it here and then try to get it out.”

“How do you know it’s good?”

“How do you know it’s not?”

“When will you listen? Will you do me a favor? Do I ask my only son for so much?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Cash the check.”

“Why?”

“So you know. So you’re not such a schmendrick all the time, bouncing around like a… like a what?”

“Like a rolling stone. No moss.”

“You said it.”

“Okay. I’ll cash it.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“And please, let me know when.”

“Yes, I’ll let you know.”