She did another take. This time the p’s were popless, but Slim ballooned: A LITTLE MORE JEWISH, PLEASE.
Oreo tried to think of how her mother would do this. She pretended she was Tante Ruchel’s niece, as the copy said. She got to the punchline again. “… be the first to hear over the miracle of the airwaves about a miracle of a product: Tante Ruchel’s Frozen Passover TV Seder.” Oreo laughed to herself. If her grandfather had thought of this, he could have sold a million of them as fast as Louise could cook them.
She consulted Slim about two apparent typographical errors in the next paragraph and was assured that the client did indeed want the copy read as the soundman instructed.
YAHWEH, he explained.
Oreo shrugged and continued. “Passover is a celebration of freedom, gee-dash-dee’s gift to our people. So why spend precious holiday time shopping and preparing? The ell-dash-are-dee has seen fit to provide you with Tante Ruchel, a real bren. Let her do it for you. When it’s time for Seder, you’ll be able to sit back, calm and cool, and say, ‘It’s such a mechaieh to have Tante Ruchel for a friend.’ Have you ever been so farchadat on the holiday that when your youngest starts in with the Fier Kashehs, you say, ‘Don’t ask so many questions?’ Pesach is such an important holiday — a happy yontiff, as we say — you wouldn’t want to forget anything and slight the traditions of our people. Don’t worry, Tante Ruchel has thought of everything. No one will be able to point the accusing finger at you and say, ‘See, she forgot the parsley.’ Parsley-shmarsley — have we got a meal for you! First of all, Tante Ruchel’s Frozen Passover TV Seder comes in special foil trays — kosherized for the occasion. Use them once and throw them away. No worry come next Pesach about did your Uncle Louie forget and mix up the special china for Passover week with the everyday. Tante Ruchel would not make a move without our own mashgiach by her side to see that everything is strictly strictly. In fact, our mashgiach is so strict, he’s known in the FAM — the Federation of American Mashgiachs — as Murray the yenta. And it goes without saying that each and every lamb is led to the slaughter by our own shochet, who, if he didn’t work for us, would be a world-famous surgeon. For that reason, we call him Dr. Jacobs. It’s only his due.”
Oreo paused to say that she needed some water. Slim stopped his tape and went out of the control room. He came back to the studio a few seconds later with a paper cup of water. He winked, patted Oreo on the shoulder, and went back to start his machine again.
Oreo cleared her throat and went on. ‘‘By now, you’re all ears. ‘What is Tante Ruchel serving for Passover?’ you query. I’m glad you asked. This Seder meal was tested in our kosher kitchens for an entire year until we came up with just the right amount of everything — so you should feel nice and full but not so stuffed you could plotz. Each individual tray has eight sections — get the symbolism? — and in each section a gem of a dish. To start, Tante Ruchel has improved on her famous matzo-ball soup. She found an old family recipe in a trunk in the attic just the other day. It’s the same delicious soup Tante Ruchel has always made — but with one new secret ingredient that makes it divine, an ingredient that if we told you, you’d say, ‘Of course.’ But we can’t tell you, dear customers, because our competitors have ears also. Suffice it to say that such delicious broth, such secret-ingredient matzo balls you have never in your life tasted. You could strap a pair of Tante Ruchel’s matzos to your shoulders and fly — that’s how light they are. As Tante Ruchel was joking just the other day when she taste-tested her latest batch of matzos, ‘Let’s try and work out a deal with Pan Am.’
“In the next section, you have your chopped chicken liver, with an extra portion of shmaltz so that you can mix it to your own taste. Next to that is Tante Ruchel’s justly famous gefilte fish. Next to that is our chrain, with an extra wallop especially for Passover. Next to that is a hard-boiled egg, already halved for your convenience. The main course, occupying a double section all its own, is baby lamb shank — roasted to perfection and garnished with generous sprigs of parsley. See, Tante Ruchel didn’t forget. A packet of kosher salt comes with every frozen Seder. ‘What’s for dessert?’ you ask. For dessert we have, of course, charoseth, but it’s Tante Ruchel’s own special blend of apples, nuts, and cinnamon — a taste treat you’ll never forget. Tante Ruchel has even thought of wine. Where state laws permit, you’ll find a two-ounce container of holiday wine in the eighth and final tray section. Be sure to remove the container before you pop the Seder into the oven. Yes, believe it or not, that’s all you have to do to serve your family a delicious, traditional Passover meal. Just pop Tante Ruchel’s Frozen Passover TV Seder into a three fifty oven, relax for thirty minutes, and your family will think you slaved over a hot stove for days. Remember our motto: ‘A holiday for your family should be a holiday for you also. Let Tante Ruchel worry.’ Look for Tante Ruchel’s Frozen Passover TV Seders in your grocer’s freezer. Why wait for Passover? Try one today. Who’s to say no?”
Slim had her redo a couple of sections here and there, which he called “wild” lines, but he seemed pleased.
“How did you know I could do it?” Oreo asked.
NICE VOICE, SLIGHT JEWISH ACCENT, he ballooned.
“What Jewish accent?” Oreo protested.
Slim pointed to his ear — the “Golden Conch” he had termed it earlier in the session. REMINDS ME OF SAM SCHWARTZ, he printed.
“I’ve never met the man,” Oreo said wryly.
Slim shrugged a “So what can I tell you?” and pointed again to his ear.
They went back to Slim’s office, where he had Oreo sign a release saying she had been paid for doing the commercial and had no further claims on Mr. Soundman, Inc. Then he gave Oreo ten dollars.
“How much would a pro get for doing that?” she asked.
A LOT MORE, his balloon admitted.
“Well?”
Slim handed her another ten dollars and held up his REMINDS ME OF SAM SCHWARTZ cardboard again.
Oreo shrugged a “So what can I tell you?” and shook his hand.
Oreo outside Mr. Soundman, Inc.
She stood in the doorway and saw a curious procession coming down the street. A black pimp and ten prostitutes, five white, five black, in alternating colors, wended toward her in a ragged V, a checkerboard wedge of wedges. The pimp’s walk reminded Oreo of Fonzelle, her brother’s friend. But Fonzelle’s was a heavy choreography, this one lighter, more fluid. It was as though the pimp were swimming down the street, a swan breasting the current for his cygnets. The cob would take two stroking steps, glide to a stop, flutter his arms ostentatiously to his hips, turn to see that he was still followed at a respectful distance, and continue downstream. His clothes seemed to grow out of him, hugging his lithe, sigmoid torso more snugly than a suit of lights a torero’s sinuosity. He was fledged in a suit of pearlescent pink velvet, a soft dawn-gray shirt, a blushing-rose string tie. His long-billed velvet cap raked this way and that as he skewed about to check on the progress of his brood. The rake’s progress, Oreo thought, and laughed to herself. Occasionally he paused to buff his nails, perking his chest with anseriform hauteur. When he stopped, the women stopped; when he moved on, they followed. Oreo decided to name him after an adulterer and, as a student of British history, dubbed him Parnell.