A friend calls. “How is your moral bank account?”
“Overdrawn,” I say.
“There’s a bizarro Luke Ford out there who wants to be an Orthodox Jew but all the synagogues reject him,” he says.
“We should do a Shabbos dinner with Fran Prager,” he says. “That would be amazing if you started dating Fran Prager.”
“She’s 20 years older than me,” I say.
“That would be amazing,” he says. “Age doesn’t matter. You want to be close to Dennis Prager. So you date his ex-wife. Either one of them. You could say to Dennis, ‘I’m dating your ex-wife.’ And then when his kids were over, you’d be the step-father. We’re family now.”
“You’re a bad man,” I say.
“Would you legally change your name to Luke Prager?” he asks. “I see it now. Your van would be parked there. ‘My God is a Radio Talkshow Host.’ That would be the bumper sticker.
“I can’t wait.
“Michael Medved will be at the reception. Hugh Hewitt. Rabbi Hier.”
“Reception for what?” I say.
“The wedding reception,” he says. “We’ll have an incredible collection of people walking with you to shul that day for the wedding. Your followers. We’ll be like that ‘I want to teach the world to sing’ Coke ad but we’ll all be walking behind you. I’ll have a drum.
“Oh no, you’ll be riding a donkey to the synagogue for the wedding. On the donkey, beard down to your knees, talis, giant bra-cup yarmulke, and the donkey neighing. Min Ho chasing the donkey.
“The wedding will be officiated by Rabbi Bobby Fischer.
“This would be the ultimate collection of misfits.”
