A few months back, I wrote an article complaining about how many waking hours of Purim we spend in the car. It’s almost all of them, we figured out. But in my excitement to complain about Purim, I totally forgot how many waking hours of Chanukah we spend in the car.
To be fair, it’s not all day. It’s basically just a one-to-two-hour window of the day, but for an entire week. There’s a lot of running around on Chanukah. We have to go to work on Chanukah, and there also has to be yeshiva on Chanukah, and while that’s a nice concept, there’s a certain time of the day when suddenly everyone drops everything and starts running home at the same time.
It’s like a typical erev Yom Tov rush, but for eight nights in a row. And now it’s at the same time that everyone else is rushing home in order to celebrate rush how.
And it is at this same time that all the yeshivas get out, so all the carpools and school buses, that are somewhat staggered during the year so the parents can pick their kids up from multiple schools are now suddenly thrust together. During the week of Chanukah, kindergarteners now get out at the same time as the eighth graders and you have to be at five schools at the same time and not a single child under 4th grade is sure they’re on the right bus.
And everyone is driving slowly because they have to look at every menorah and comment. “Look! They lit already… They lit already… They lit already… I didn’t even know they were Jewish, and they lit already.”
Half the people on the road are racing around town stressed that they have to go home and light before their neighbors across the street do, and the other half are racing around stressed that they had to either put their candles out after a half hour or leave the house while they were still burning, and they want to get back home before anything bad happens, chas v’shalom.
Because first of all, someone you know always gets married on Chanukah. And it is usually someone close to your family, so you have to work out with your Rav exactly when and where you have to light and possibly wait and then jump into your car and ignore all the speed limits unless you’re lighting in the car, in which case, you don’t want to ignore any speed limits, and every single person at the wedding will get a different psak from their Rav. No two people will do the same thing. It will be something to make small talk over while you’re waiting for things to happen.
“We’re not eating until after the chasunah.”
“We’re sleeping in the hall tonight.”
“We slept in the car.”
“We lit all the candles that the parents are supposed to use to walk their kids down.”
“We’re sneaking home during the chuppah, hoping they don’t call us up for a bracha.”
“We lit a row of yahrzeit candles at home this morning.”
I’m not sure why the baalei simcha can’t just write on the invitation, “This is what our rav says to do.” If a couple gets married during Sefira, everyone goes by the chosson’s rav. No one shows up in earmuffs.
They definitely didn’t call the wedding start time late enough so that everyone can just come after they light. That they couldn’t do for some reason. The wedding could have been shorter! No one minds. We could have combined some things. We could have had the smorgasbord during the chuppah at the edges of the room where the single friends usually stand. We could have danced the chosson out of the badekin and immediately down the aisle, instead of dropping him off at the family room to finish getting dressed. We could have told all the people who were getting brachos at the chuppah that they were getting brachos at the chuppah so they could maybe sit in the front row instead of dead center in the back row where the people with really long legs usually sit.
But the wedding is only one night, unless you’re invited to all sheva brachos. There are also family parties and shul parties, and if you add up how many shuls you’re a member of and how many families you’re a part of, Baruch Hashem, you somehow get more than eight. Baruch Hashem. And all these parties are either at night, as early as possible after candle lighting so the kids can go to sleep, or they’re as late as possible during the day so that everyone has to rush home afterward so they can light. Either way, you’re driving during rush hour.
If the parties are at night, chances are we’re all waiting for the candles to go out so we can leave. Because standing over the candles in a coat, davening for them to (for goodness’ sake) go out is totally in the spirit of Chanukah. Especially when the candles are probably safer when nobody’s home, and so long as we give them one last parting glance through the window as we’re pulling out of the driveway.
Sure, people say you shouldn’t leave the house with the candles lit. These are people who clearly never get invited out for a Friday night seudah. Or go for walks.
If no one’s home, no one’s shaking the candles.
So, I say you can just go, as long as you’re smart about it. And that way, when you get home, you can breathe a sigh of relief as you round the corner that, “Whew! Our house is still standing!” And it adds to your simchas hachag.
You’d think your neighbor would call you if something happened. Or are you picturing multiple cars driving past your burning house, going, “They lit already”?
But then, besides for Chanukah parties for yourself, every one of your children has multiple parties that you have to drive them to, most of them at the same time as other kids’ parties and also your shul parties. No one can get through Chanukah without a chart written on a large piece of paper with a massive oil stain.
“How does one kid have four Chanukah parties? Are these all for school?”
“No, this one is for “Chessed Club.”
“Chessed Club can’t give everyone rides?”
“I don’t have any parties,” your teenager is saying. “I have mesibas.”
A mesiba is a party where everyone is expected to stay seated, so they don’t get a repeat of what happened on Purim.
The party is usually at the Rebbi’s house on the one night that he doesn’t have a family event. And every rebbi lives on a narrow street with no lights, and their bedroom windows are in front of the house, so they light in the back. Which is also where the entrance is. And you’re like, “Is he even home? Did you get the wrong night?” And he doesn’t even have a house number.
When it comes to Purim, I mentioned that everywhere you go, there’s traffic. On Chanukah, everywhere you go, it’s also dark. And the snow doesn’t help. Every road is one lane, and you have to sit there and wait for the car in front of you to let out a kid who will immediately slip on the ice.
And the rebbi’s party has an end time. You have to pick your child up the moment the party is over. This is not like yeshiva, where the kid can sit outside for a few extra minutes. He’s just going to be sitting awkwardly in his rebbi’s house, with the rebbi’s wife asking if he’s sure his parents are coming and if he wants to take home leftovers.
I guess what I’m saying is that many people grumble around the yomim tovim that there are too many days where you can’t do a melacha, but we don’t appreciate that there are just as many days when you don’t have to drive anywhere. Whereas basically every rabbinic holiday we end up spending in the car. Even Lag Ba’Omer. There’s no halacha to do so on Lag Ba’Omer—we just make up reasons to spend extra time in the car.
“What are you talking about? There’s a minhag to play baseball!”
Is it a minhag to drive to play baseball?
The point is, when you think about Chanukah, you picture your family cozying up in front of the candles eating latkes in their footsie pajamas and there’s snow on the windowsill and you’re dipping donuts in your hot cocoa, but really Chanukah is about being cold and wet and driving around in the dark on icy roads with zero visibility, going, “They lit already, they lit already… Which one’s your rebbi’s house?”
“How am I supposed to know? I only see him in yeshiva!” n
Mordechai Schmutter is a weekly humor columnist for Hamodia and is the author of seven books, published by Israel Book Shop. He also does freelance writing for hire. You can send questions, comments, or ideas to MSchmutter@gmail.com. Read more of Mordechai Schmutter’s articles at 5TJT.com.
