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August 26, 2005
No Diamond Ring!?
It started when I was in fourth grade at Yeshiva Flatbush. Karen transferred from Yeshiva Ohel Moshe and it was her first day in school. I laid eyes on her and WHAP! That was it. The course of my life was forever changed. Okay, ten years old. What can a pisher like that know of true love? Well, read this series and find out.
How I Married Karen — Chapter 24
I'm flat on my back staring up at the ceiling.
My mouth is filled with blood.
I am five-years old.
There was a family get-together. For some reason, I started yelling. Screaming. People said, "Robert, stop." But oddly enough, I thought this was really silly and I just kept screaming—even louder. Everyone turned and looked at me. Hmm, good way to get attention. Finally, a woman stepped forward, stuck her face in mine and said, "If you don't shaddup, I'm going to give you such a zets."
You'd think I'd pay attention.
Not me. If anything, my volume finds an even higher register.
I can still see it: the diamond ring catching the light as she hauls off and back-hands me right across the mouth.
Sslap!
Just like in the classic Hollywood movies where slapping was an art form.
I stop screaming.
In fact, I have never heard such perfect silence in all my life.
I'm flat on my back, blood running down my throat.
Note to self: women with diamond rings are violent creatures.
My top lip is sliced open, there is blood everywhere. And the woman who hit me is just horrified. She looks around and says, "I—I didn't mean to do that."
My uncle the diamond cutter deadpans, "It's a good stone! Whaddaya expect's gonna happen?"
And so, when Karen and I discuss our impending marriage, I timidly ask, "Do you mind if we don't buy a diamond ring?"
She just waves her hand as if swatting away a mosquitoe. "Who cares?"
But a moment later she queries: "Would you object to diamond earrings?"
"Not at all," I assure Karen. "Spend whatever you want."
For this is not about money. This is about me being unable to get get over the absurd notion that once Karen is wearing one of these huge diamond rocks on her finger I will be stuck, like Proust and his madelaine, in some perpetual memory cycle, forever replaying that awful moment of violence, and forever tasting the warm salty blood slithering down my throat, forever believing that women who flash karats, are by nature violent beings capable of doing terrible things to the male of the species.
Gosh, just look at Elizabeth Taylor. I loved her in National Velvet. Those were the days before she was weighted down with, um, weight and diamonds. Now she's heavy with flesh and karats and and the poor woman clearly has more durable and healthier relationships with her jewelry than with any of the unfortunate men who have stumbled into the mad psychodrama of her life.
Gold. Diamonds. Jewelry. It's all so perplexing. I just want to be normal, but there doesn't seem to be enough of that to go to around.
I've got too much of not enough.
Sigh.
And to this very day, when I see a big fat diamond on a woman's hand, my lip actually tingles.
Karen adds: I never doubted Robert's aversion to diamond rings, and I did get the diamond studs. When we had been married for about fifteen years, I don't even remember the occasion, but Robert asked me if I wanted a piece of jewelry. I had my eye on a ring that was a diamond surrounded by two emeralds. The diamond was in a bezel setting so there were no sharp edges. We sketched it and had it copied by Robert's aunt, who has worked in the jewelry business for over thirty years. I love the ring, Robert is not scared of it, and it is sort of my belated "engagement" ring. I always loved emeralds.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at August 26, 2005 09:26 AM
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.
OUCH! No wonder you have a diamond-ring aversion. So did Karen get her earrings?
Posted by: Stacey at August 26, 2005 01:01 PM
Stacey: Of course she did.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at August 26, 2005 01:46 PM
Robert,
it's really good that she didn't hit you with a book.....:)
I always enjoy your stories - Have a fabulous Shabbos :)
Rachel :)
Posted by: Rachel at August 26, 2005 02:45 PM
Robert, if you cast this into a film, what about Lanie Kazzan as the aunt and Lou Jacobi as the diamond cutter uncle (no one delivers a line like that like Mr. Jacobi). Also, for future reference, the museum of Natural History in Washington D.C. has a diamond the size of an automobile headlight. My guess is you should never allow your eyes to rest upon it, even for a fleeting moment. The results could very well be catastrophic.
Mr. Randi
Posted by: Mr. Randi at August 26, 2005 03:12 PM
I can't believe Karen fell for that!
Posted by: rabbi neil fleischmann at August 26, 2005 03:13 PM
There is an obscure line of Gemara that says that diamonds are nice to look at but should not be touched.
One of these days I'll have to dig that one out again. It is quite useful. ;)
Posted by: Jack at August 26, 2005 03:25 PM
Just discovered your blog (via Tennapel), and after reading the latest three How I Married installments I've pushed back my master's thesis due this week until after I've caught up on the whole series, no matter how long it takes.
I'm 25 and single but the stories and your mental processes ring very true for me. Your non-proposal in particular is how I hope mine takes place should I find someone to marry in five years or so!
Can't wait to see it on the screen, as long as it has your constant voice-over narration.
Posted by: Jonathan at August 27, 2005 12:30 AM
Cut. Clarity. Color. Carat.
Like a good diamond, your story has it all: BRILLIANCE.
My uncle the diamond cutter says, "It's a good diamond! What do you expect?" I laughed aloud at this, in spite of your bloody mouth that resulted from that "good diamond"!
Note to Karen: Who really needs a diamond ring, when you've found treasure...?
Posted by: Pearl at August 27, 2005 08:19 PM
After reading your story, I think I may also now fear women who wear diamond rings and give zetses....
I hope you have as much fun writing these installments as I do reading them.
Posted by: MCAryeh at August 28, 2005 04:28 PM
McAryeh: Glad you're enjoying "How I Married Karen." I like remembering. I like comparing notes with Karen. I like it when she brings me back to earth. But writing it all down, oh gosh, what can I say? For me writing is just really hard work. I'm just happy when it comes out in full sentences that make sense.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at August 28, 2005 06:14 PM
Well, my excuse is not as interesting.
I just didn't have any money.
But I bought her a relatively nice one for our 10th anniversary.
Posted by: psychosteve at August 28, 2005 06:40 PM
There go my thoughts of a future in gemology (I'm actually considering Gemology School - if anyone would like to encourage/discourage me I'm open to advice)...I couldn't be appraising/cutting/
setting a stone without letting something slip like "a perfect cubic Suchandsuch with a fine reflective Yaddayadda - on the right finger this could be deadly"...
Posted by: pierre at August 29, 2005 08:09 AM
It's funny how an incident like that can stay with you all of your life. And, a totally "non-objective" observation I've made(non-objective, because I'm a woman, of course)...There still seems to be something about "the ring"...Karen still wanted a ring, 15 years later...and even called it her belated engagement ring. No matter how women try to deny it...they still want that ring! (just my totally humble, objective observation)
Posted by: Randi at August 29, 2005 09:34 AM
Randi: And I wanted Karen to have a ring--just one that didn't scare me to death.
Posted by: Robert at August 29, 2005 09:38 AM
Thank goodness, the ring Mr. Randi speaks of, wasn't for sale!
Posted by: randi at August 29, 2005 10:09 AM
Your story completely lived up to the hype. Can't blame you a bit on that one. Great retelling of it.
Posted by: Esther at August 29, 2005 10:36 PM
Esther:
Thanks so much.
Posted by: Robert at August 30, 2005 07:00 AM
I can not believe that woman hit you! Horrors! Karen, I think you made a wise choice. I too love emeralds. Green is my favorite color and emerald also happens to be my birthstone.
I can also relate to just wanting normal. I seem to have been striving for normal to varying degree's all my life. :)
Posted by: JC at August 31, 2005 12:41 PM
JC: That poor woman just lost it. I have no hard feelings at all towards her. I was screechng at the top of my lungs and she really just lost it. If she were not wearing the ring, it would have just been a little tap, quickly forgotten.
Posted by: Robert at August 31, 2005 12:58 PM
Emeralds are very classy, they have deep connection with the energy of the earth. Great style! :) thanks
Posted by: Jewelry Expert, Amanda from All Women's Talk at March 26, 2007 04:09 PM