Ask Mr. Love Doctor
By Jeffrey Goldberg
The Jerusalem Post, August 7, 1992
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
My husband and I have a wonderful marriage, great kids and a nice house. You would think he would be happy, yes? Unfortunately, he must be going through some sort of mid-life crisis, because he came home from work the other day and said that he wanted to practise origami. I mean, really, who does he think he is, a Mormon? An Arab prince? I’m sorry, but I’m not going to share him with three or four other wives. One wife, one husband, that’s what I always say. No origami for me. Mr. Love Doctor, how do I convince him to stop this silliness? How do I win my husband back?
- Baffled in Bat Yam
Dear Baffled,
Try buying him some brightly colored paper.
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
I am a long-time member of Kibbutz Mishmar Habubkis and I have a problem. I was recently assigned to work in the dairy, which I didn’t enjoy, until what I’m about to tell you about happened. It seems as if one of the young cows took a shine to me. At first, it was little things. She would nuzzle me and run her long grooved tongue through my hair. No one noticed, and I didn’t particularly mind. Sometimes, she would moo mournfully when I finished my shift. Then she started in with the flowers. She would pick them along the fence, and hand them to me as I arrived for work. How she did this without opposable thumbs I don’t know, but there she was, each morning, flowers in hoof. Then the letters started. Long, passionate, poetic letters. To tell you the truth, they moved me. I mean, it’s lonely on kibbutz, and here was a heifer who loved me for who I am. My question, Mr. Love Doctor, is whether or not I can marry her according to Jewish law. And whose family pays for the wedding?
- Lonely No More
Dear Lonely No More,
Jewish law is unclear on this question. While there is no specific edict prohibiting a Jewish man from marrying a dairy cow, there is no precedent for such a marriage, and the rabbis with whom I spoke said it could raise troubling questions about, among other things, the separation of milk and meat in your kitchen. Nevertheless, if you plan to follow this through, I think the kibbutz should pick up the tab, unless she comes from a family of means.
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
My mother told me not to have pre-marital sex with my boyfriend, but how can it be pre-marital sex if I don’t know whether or not I’m going to marry him? Maybe we’ll never get married, so then it wouldn’t be pre-marital sex at all—it would pre-break-up sex, or just-dating sex, or going-steady sex. I’m so confused. What do you think I should do?
- Perplexed in Pardess Hanna
Dear Perplexed,
Stop thinking so much.
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
Please help me. I am a hassid living in Mea She’arim. My parents have made a match for me with the daughter of the sainted Nebbisher Rebbe. I have only met her once, but I can tell you, Mr. Love Doctor, that I am definitely not attracted to her, partly because I am eight years old and may not be ready to experience feelings that mature adults have, and partly because she smells like a piece of gefilte fish. Please tell me what I should do.
- Grim in Geula
Dear Grim,
Explain to your parents the conflicted feelings you are having about this girl, and I’m sure they’ll understand what you’re going through and call off the match. If, by chance, they don’t, try spreading her with horseradish, which should take care of the smell, and clear up any sinus problems you may be having.
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
I am having no luck with guys, Mr. Love Doctor, and I need your help. It’s not that I’m not around any—I’m in the army, and I serve on a major base with hundreds of soldiers. Everyday, I literally see dozens of guys in my reserve duty liaison office, but nothing ever happens. They act as if I’ve got the plague, but I happen to be a very attractive person. Even when I call them up on the phone to remind them what day they’re expected to report for duty, it seems as if they can’t wait to hang up. Mr. Love Doctor, I’m at a loss. I need your advice.
- Heartbroken in Hebron
Dear Heartbroken,
Try getting a job in a more popular branch of the army, like the Military Police.
Dear Mr. Love Doctor,
My husband has gone crazy. All of a sudden he wants to know if I love him. Do I love him? Can you imagine? Do I love him? For 25 years I’ve washed his clothes, cooked his meals, cleaned his house, given him children, milked his cows … if that’s not love, Mr. Love Doctor, what is?
- Goldie in Givatayim
Dear Goldie,
Stop kvetching. At least you’re not married to Lazar the Butcher.