When does a Jewish boy become a man? Not when he first publicly reads from the Torah. Not when he marries. Not when he has his first child. Not when he makes his first five-figure donation to the Jewish National Fund. No.
Everyone acknowledges that Heartburn, like Irony, is a predominantly (if not exclusively) Jewish affliction. A Jewish boy becomes a man when his acid reflux reaches such an unbearable intensity that he requires high-tech medical intervention.
Yesterday, I became a man: I had an upper endoscopy.
This entails the passage of a snakelike instrument through the throat, esophagus, stomach and duodenum. Snapshots of the Semitic Digestive Tract (SDT) are taken. A sample of Inflamed Semitic Tissue (IST) is removed, and sent to the lab. Next, the doctor prescribes a medication that, while raising expectations all around, does not actually work.
(I should author a book about my struggle. A memoir. It will be inspiring. My bodily vicissitudes will interest university-educated readers everywhere. It seems to be working for Mara Altman, who has just published an execrable looking thing entitled Thanks for Coming: One Young Woman’s Quest for an Orgasm [Harper Perennial, 2009]. God help us.)
