Dearest Rachel –
It’s another morning, and I don’t dare emerge from the bedroom, lest I run the risk of running it to somebody else. So, I might as well spend some time trying to talk to you. However, the most likely topic of discussion –my dreams – is somewhat out of the question, because of exactly how I woke up. It seems that I wasn’t paying attention to where I set my remote, and rolled over onto it. While it’s nice to have such a large screen on the other side of the bedroom to watch (I almost said “for us to watch” there), having it switch on, suddenly and unexpectedly, is not the way anyone would necessarily want to wake up. I know I would do that to you of a Sunday morning when we needed to get to church particularly early, but that was on a screen about a quarter the size of this one, so the light from it wouldn’t necessarily fill your field of vision like this one does, so I usually had to resort to actually playing a music video or two in order to wake you up fully. I’m not entirely sure that would be necessary any more.
As a result, I don’t really have anything to relate to you in terms of dreams this morning, as those were pretty much immediately dispelled with the inadvertent lighting of the room. Hey, it’s how things go, sometimes. However, I did find myself left with an earworm in my head, for no ascertainable reason, and one that provokes a fair number of very strange thoughts upon it.
Oh, you can kiss me on a Monday, a Monday, a Monday is very, very good
“Never on Sunday,” sung by Ilya (Melina Mercouri) in the movie (1960) of the same name
Or you can kiss me on a Tuesday, a Tuesday, a Tuesday; in fact, I wish you would
Or you can kiss me on a Wednesday, a Thursday, a Friday and Saturday is best
But never, never on a Sunday, a Sunday, a Sunday, ’cause that’s my day of rest
You probably remember this song better than I do, as it was one of the albums in your parents’ collection that I found myself converting to digital format after their passing, to keep for ourselves after passing the vinyl on to someone who would appreciate it (which turned out to be Lars). Whether your dad played it during dinner at any time, I couldn’t say – I certainly don’t remember him doing so, myself – but then, you ate with them much more frequently than I did during your formative years, so who am I to say?
Considering that the profession of the character singing this song is the one referred to as ‘the oldest,’ and that kissing is used in the lyrics to imply something much more than that (although that can be quite sufficient in its own right, if you’ve gone long enough without, I suppose – but like with a bag of potato chips, who can stop with just the first thing?), there’s something absurd about eschewing from doing so on Sunday for what one assumes are religious reasons. One will not obtain absolution just for abstaining for the day, especially given that one fully intends to go ‘back to work’ the following day. Jesus forgave the woman caught in adultery, yes (actually, He refused to condemn her in the first place – I’m not sure if that’s quite the same thing, come to think of it), but He also instructed Her to “go, and sin no more.” I don’t think Ilya gets a pass, here.
Then again, I may be attributing motives to her that didn’t exist – that’s what happens when I’m only familiar with the song, and not the movie. Sometimes, to paraphrase Sigmund Freud, a day of rest is simply a day of rest.
Who can satisfy their lustful habit?
“I’m Tired,” as performed by Lili von Schtupp (Madeline Kahn) in Blazing Saddles (1974)
I’m not a rabbit!
I need some rest…
Of course, in our circumstances, it’s not as if there’s a sin involved, I suppose, but it does leave one grateful that we’re not subject to Levitical law. After going through these thoughts and songs, my mind tries to remember if one is unclean afterwards for only the rest of the day, or for the next week – and to be honest, even after paging through the fifteenth chapter of the book, I’m still not sure. It may be from our own experience, but I wonder how many of us would be disqualified from worshipping or serving if it were the latter. I get why Paul recommended celibacy (although that ushers in a whole other series of issues for those not so cut out for it), but I do find myself wondering just how neglected Zipporah must have felt at times.
I know, these are strange thoughts, and they’re rather incomplete (for reasons you’re well aware of; I’m trying not to overshare, here, but I wish I could have those days back, you know). But these are the sort of things that go through my mind when I’m up too soon to start the day, but not quite soon enough to have time to return to sleep.
Still, maybe I can try… wish me luck, honey; I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 