An Identity in the Life of the Mac-Attack

"Rabbi Maccabbi's office, Michael speaking."

I literally have the easiest job of all time, answering the phone in my father's office. I make 8 dollars an hour just to answer a phone, I have it made!

However, sometimes my personal life gets in the way of my work. Like yesterday for example.

I answered the phone with the usual greeting, when I got a greeting back from the best girl in the world.

"Hello, Michael from Rabbi Maccabbi's Office."

It was none other than Dara. I wondered why she was calling me at work, until she said--

"I'm calling about my torah. It would seem that it needs to be undressed."
"Well, ma'am, it sounds like you have a real problem."
"Oh, I really do. I can't seem to find someone to undress it for me."

Oh, she was good.

"I think I know someone who might be able to do that for you."
"Does he work in the Rabbi's Office?"

Just then, my dad the rabbi walked in. I then had to break character.

"I get off work in an hour, I'll stop by on my way home."
"Mmkay. Love you."
"Love you too. Bye."
"Bye."

I hung up, and was greeted with a not so warm look from my father.

"Michael, was that your mother?"
"No."
"Was that your grandmother?"
"No."
"Was it your aunt?"

I wondered how long he was gonna keep guessing.

"No, Dad. It was Dara."
"I know."
"Then why did you ask?"

I must have sounded like a real smart-ass.

"I heard what you were saying to her?"
"Love you too bye?"
"No. The whole undressing a torah thing!"

I was shocked, not because he heard it but because I never once said those words, it was Dara that was really setting up the scenario for phone sex.

"Dad, I never said that."
"But Dara did."
"How did you hear that?"
"Miriam at the front desk listens to the phone conversations in case there is any sort of interesting new gossip. The latest gossip: THE RABBI'S SON HAS PHONE SEX IN HIS OWN FATHER'S OFFICE!!!"
"Does Miriam not have a life?"
"Michael!"

I know I sounded like a jerk again, but it was very hard to take my dad seriously.

"In my defense, Dara called me. I just went along with it."
"Michael, I need to explain something to you. I am the Rabbi of this Congregation, and there's an entire board filled with these congregants who are just dying to create drama. If they got word that I was using the shul's budget to pay my 17 year old son to have PHONE SEX, I'd be gone just like that."

He snapped his fingers to emphasize this.

"Okay, Dad, I didn't realize that it was such a big issue."
"The way people view you is a reflection of me as a parent."
"But I'm not you, Dad."
"But you are my son, and I raised you."
"Don't these people understand that I'm a teenage guy?"
"They expect more from you because you're my son."

The conversation went on longer, but as it turns out, there's only one thing that my father said to me that has really stood out in my mind.

"Latest Gossip: THE RABBI'S SON HAS PHONE SEX IN HIS FATHER'S OWN OFFICE!!!"

No, not that. The last thing that he just said.

"But you are my son, and I raised you."

Forward a little bit more.

"They expect more from you because you're my son."

Thank you! Finally!

Anyway, this line that my father said to me really stuck out in my mind. You see, he had been the rabbi at Temple Beth Zion for a little under a year now, but I never thought about the fact that I'm "the rabbi's son", as if that's some sort of title.

At that point, I realized that at TBZ, I am not the Mac-Attack. I'm not even Michael Isaac Maccabbi. No, when I'm at TBZ, I am nothing else but "The Rabbi's Son". Do I even have a name anymore?

I thought about this all the way until I was done working and it was time for me to head over to Dara's house.

She opened the door.

"Hey, Mac."
"Mac, or the Rabbi's son?"
"Aren't you both?"

I walked in and she sat me down in the living room.

"Are you okay, Mac?"
"If that is indeed my real name."
"Well, your real name is Michael."

There was a pause.

"Talk to me, what's bothering you?"
"After we got off the phone, my father...you know, it's probably nothing."
"It doesn't seem like nothing."

Dara was obviously unconvinced that this was nothing. Probably because it wasn't nothing.

"Okay, so you know how my dad is the rabbi?"

That was a stupid question. How could she NOT know that my dad was the rabbi. After all, I am the rabbi's son!

"Yeah, what about it?"
"Okay, well, after we got off the phone, my dad came into his office and wasn't very pleased."
"Does he not approve of me?"
"No, my whole family is crazy about you, but he isn't too crazy about the office...uh, phone calls."
"Oh, god, I didn't realize I was crossing a line...wait, you didn't say anything remotely sexual in our conversation."
"Miriam at the front desk likes to listen in on the phone calls."
"You mean..."
"Yes, she heard you talking about your torah being dressed."
"Oh, I'm so embarrassed."

There was a pause.

"Obviously not as embarrassed as you are."
"Dara, my father told me today that people expect more from me because I'm his son. How people see me is a reflection of him, because he raised me. I know I'm not him, but somehow I feel like people only see me as being his son, and not being me. People don't see Michael Maccabbi when they see me. They see..."
"The rabbi's son."
"Exactly."

Dara moved a little closer and looked at me.

"Mac, how do you think I see you?"

I decided it would be in my best interest to assume it was a rhetorical question.

"If you don't know by now, it's pretty sad. I don't see you as the Rabbi's Son or as a reflection of your father."
"You don't?"
"No, silly. I see you as my boyfriend, Mac. My very cute, smart, funny, and amazing boyfriend whom I absolutely adore."

I looked at her and smiled. I suddenly felt way better.

"I love you, Dara. You're the best."

We kissed for a while.

"You know I love you too."
"I know."
"Good."

We kissed again, and kissed for an even longer time.

Having your own identity is something that we all struggle with in the world. Some kids' parents leave behind legacies for their kids to follow, some parents become associated by their kids' mistakes, and some kids' parents are in a position of great power and reputation.

The truth is that I discovered on that day that I really did have my own identity. I was Michael Isaac Maccabbi, the one and only Mac-Attack.

So maybe I happen to be the rabbi's son.

There are much worse things that I could be.

Sincerely,
Mac-Attack