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August 03, 2005
Karrrrrrrrrrrrrrren!
Robert first laid eyes on Karen when they were both nine-years-old, 4th graders in Yeshiva of Flatbush grade school. Thus began a love affair that defined and continues to define Robert's existence. This series tells the story of...
It's the middle of the night. Karen and I have been going out for four months. The relationship is obviously... a relationship. Still, being male and horribly insecure, I wait for disaster to strike, I wait for the phone call where she tells me that we should just be friends, that she's not ready to commit, that maybe we're moving too fast. I'm waiting for all the cliches that hover in the air of the Upper West Side. But Karen is different, at least I think she's different.
All my life I have assumed that disaster is just around the corner. Whenever anything good happens, I just wait for something equally dreadful to follow. I'm not pessimistic, just a realistic kind of guy. Bad things happen with alarming regularity.
Isn't that normal?
Anyhoo.
I sit up at four in the morning. I am drenched in a cold sweat and I know, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that something terrible is going to happen. Sooner or later Karen, the most level-headed of women, is going to realize that she really loves somebody else, or she's going to come to her senses and understand that loving me, an impoverished screenwriter, is sheer madness.
I must do something.
I bolt out of bed, throw on my clothing, and I run through the deserted streets of Manhattan. I stand outside Karen's building and...
I know, I should scream, Karrrrrrrren! Like Marlon Brando's primal Stellaaaaa! in Streetcar Named Desire. But, look, I don't want to get arrested and I'm pretty sure Karrrrrrrren! wouldn't hear me anyway. Besides, what would I say afterwards?
Marry me?
Please?
Pretty please?
So I stand there and stare at the blank face of her building and a bum walks by muttering some madness and I realize, whoa, I'm out on the street in the middle of the night about to scream Karen's name.
Get a grip.
I turn round and make my way back to my apartment and never tell Karen about this episode. Until today.
Karen adds: I guess this is the nature of the early stages of courtship, each person trying to hide their insecurities, hoping, praying that the other feels the same way they do, that the feeling will "last" and that the intangible, irrational attraction that drew the couple together will endure and grow.
While Robert was having his night terrors, he hid it so well it never occurred to me that he was insecure. I, on the other hand, was sure I would blow it, that I would project my need for a commitment, that I would suffocate Robert with my neediness, and my possessive nature. Perhaps I even held back somewhat to compensate for these tendencies. So while Robert was dealing with his insecurities I was dealing with mine. I took measures to deal with them, and in the end, it was the best move I ever made.
Had Robert screamed at the top of his lungs I probably wouldn't have heard him, since my apartment faced an air shaft, with quite a distance to the front of the building. As far as screaming on the Upper West Side, in those days, there was a screamer on every block.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at August 3, 2005 12:10 PM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
Robert, I love the fact that Karen has never been privvy to this until today...there is something sweet about that. (I'm a romantic) I don't know a man or woman who hasn't done something a little insane when falling in love. Of course, having grown up in L.A., we never ran through the streets, we drove, to reach our beloved's home to let out a scream. Who hasn't picked up the phone to call, hang up, pick up again, hang up, and so on. At least you didn't leave a boiling rabbit on Karen's stove (Fatal Attraction reference)or in this case, a Kosher chicken.
Ahhhhhhh, love!
Posted by: Randi at August 3, 2005 03:01 PM
Beautiful; human, real, frail.
By the way Karen, my aunt Leah Magnus (Frohlich) remembers you fondly and your song to the tune of Dr. Kildare and your father who she wonders if it's the rabbi of the same name she sees written up sometimes.
Posted by: rabbineilfelischmann at August 3, 2005 03:56 PM
Karen,
Your comment about not hearing the screams made me laugh because I know that if I had ever tried to do that not only would she not have heard me, I would have been arrested.
This story gets better all the time, especially and primarily because it is real.
Posted by: Jack at August 3, 2005 04:24 PM
Neil, Yes, my father was the Camp Rabbi. The Dr. Kildaire memory is amazing, probably, Three Stars will Shine Tonight? Leah has an amazing memory.
Posted by: Karen Avrech at August 3, 2005 04:44 PM
Jack: As I said, it did occur to me that I might get arrested. In fact, I had this horrible vision of calling Karen in the morning and asking her to post bail for me. I figured that would not be romantic or healthy. Hence restrained myself. But now, in the house, every once in a while I do bellow: Karrrrrren! The kids think: "Dad, he's sooooo wierd!" Karen smiles tolerantly with affection.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at August 3, 2005 05:41 PM
I read this post twice. I am speechless. And the thought that Karen never even knew this until now makes me shiver.
And Karen, you wrote so beautifully about the feelings and insecurities so many of us have in the beginning of a relationship. And the personal tidbits you shared about your own nature and how you worried it would impact things was very touching. Thank you.
Posted by: Stacey at August 3, 2005 10:06 PM
Stacy, Robert's revelation just teaches me that after 27 years of marriage there can be surprises. Layers of initimacies still to be shed, we human beings are always changing. Sometimes we even surprise ourselves! Thanks for your comment.
Posted by: Karen Avrech at August 4, 2005 12:29 AM
"All my life I have assumed that disaster is just around the corner. Whenever anything good happens, I just wait for something equally dreadful to follow. I'm not pessimistic, just a realistic kind of guy.
Bad things happen with alarming regularity. Isn't that normal?"
No. Goodness, no.
Every day brings with it a blank slate. Room for opportunity is the largest room in the world.
Chin up, Mr. Avrech. Try to be less glum!
Brian
Posted by: Brian at August 4, 2005 04:46 AM
'Chin up, Mr. Avrech. Try to be less glum!'
I must respectfully disagree with Brian's comment.
Robert, I have been reading your blog a long time (even before I began posting). I resent people who alwayts tell others to put on a happy face. People need to be who they are.
Posted by: Stacey at August 4, 2005 06:31 AM
I suppose my refutation should have been fleshed out a bit more.
I do not believe that bad things happen with any degree of regularity. It is not a normal condition in this great country of ours.
Yes, there are times when we find ourselves in reduced circumstances. Endeavoring to persevere, as the author of this blog has done so well, prevents me from agreeing with the rather contradictory oberservation that we inhabit a consistently environment.
I honestly did not intend my innocuous "Chin up" comment to suggest a saccharine and constant admonition to force one's happiness and abandon "who they are".
Thanks so much for writing.
Posted by: Brian at August 4, 2005 07:19 AM
A portion of my prior post was incomplete. It should read:
"..the rather contradictory oberservation that we inhabit a consistently negative environment."
B.
Posted by: Brian at August 4, 2005 07:21 AM
"..the rather contradictory oberservation that we inhabit a consistently negative environment."
I didn't read Robert's comment to mean that life is consistently negative. I took it to mean that he is a realist who recognizes that both good things and bad things happen in life.
Sorry if I offended you, Brian. That was not my intention.
Posted by: Stacey at August 4, 2005 07:48 AM
Wasn't Robert was being ironic there- because, as we all know very well, his fears in this case were to prove so unfounded? Writers often voice the views of the person in the story, who is not quite the same person as the author, in this way.
Posted by: Alice at August 4, 2005 07:53 AM
Karen's comment about the frequent screamers during the mid-to-late 70's on the Upper West Side is very true. One of the most popular yells past midnight was "Viva Trujillo." Trujillo, I believe, was the leader of the Puerto Rican independence movement, but I'm not sure. How odd to now see the same streets along West End Avenue have become so fancy and clean that a screamer would definitely be arrested after someone called 311.
Posted by: Jake at August 4, 2005 08:10 AM
No offense taken, Stacey. Thanks for your post.
B.
Posted by: Brian at August 4, 2005 08:28 AM