Puttin on the Blitz

Netflix recently made the 1990s cult cartoon classic Animaniacs available for streaming. Off and on for the last couple weeks, I've been binging on the madness of the Warner Brothers (and the Warner Sister). Unlike most reminders of the 90s, it's been an exercise in the most enjoyable kind of nostalgia.

I already knew there were a ton of adult jokes I didn't get at the time. (I was 18 when Animaniacs debuted but I really didn't know shit, and yes, the references on an after-school cartoon went over my head), but I've been taken aback on this rewatch, never more so than tonight. 

Episode 31 features a segment set in 1939 Poland, Puttin' on the Blitz. It's a Rita and Buttons segment. Rita and Buttons (a singing cat and dopey dog) take a wrong turn and end up in the middle of occupied Poland. That's kind of a WTF for a kid's cartoon like Animaniacs. Then again, Steven Spielberg was an executive producer of Animaniacs. On a hunch I looked it up- this episode was aired in 1993, the same year as Schindler's List. Go figure.

Rita and Runt have to hide from German soldiers  and cross paths with Nazis searching for the leader of the "Polish underground." The leader has to hide his daughter until they can meet up later at the train station and escape. While hiding, the daughter is saved by scrappy cat Rita (voiced by Bernadette Peters.)

Now, the story never mentions Jews or the Final Solution. It's actually pretty silly, in keeping with the rest of the show. So, why was it so jarring for me? Well, first of all, my generation isn't used to seeing World War II as a normal part of pop culture, especially as comedy fodder. There was a time, though, when war was just a part of the cultural conversation, even for kids, even for comedy. My favorite example being:

And second- where ARE the Jews? One of the criticisms that's been aimed at Schindler's List is that, for what is possibly the most famous 'Holocaust' movie of all time, the story is about a heroic non-Jew and the question of non-Jewish responsibility. And, I mean, are Rita and Runt supposed to be stand-ins for the Jews? Or... I don't know.

I don't think it's a coincidence that this segment came out the same year as Schindler's List. It even features one of the most famous images from that movie- a little girl in a red coat.

Anyway, I think it's an interesting look at the way that serious topics get filtered down through layers of pop culture, especially when you have artists like Spielberg, who are involved at every level.

Go to 7:55 and check it out for yourself.

Git Moyed and Digital Heritage

It's khol ha'moyed sukkes, the intermediate days of the 8 day festival of sukkes/sukkot. You know, you sit in a hut (sukke) and eat; shake a festive blend of biblical plants; go apple picking if you're Brooklyn Hasidish. To be perfectly honest, I haven't done any of those things yet, especially the apple picking.

Which is all to say that I'm not really having the best sukkes ever.  Though it is kinda cinematic. Picture this: my brother and I on a road trip in a rattling cargo van tricked out with hand cranked windows and functioning FM radio. Our destination: a small city 5 hours away where our mom (OBM) was living when she passed away in 2007. Our mission: to clear out a storage locker stuffed with her pesakh dishes, my first grade notebooks and my brother's comic book collection. The drama: tears are shed, teddy bears tossed, parental approval hoped for. 


As we walked away from the storage space, I thought of the stories you hear sometimes about people living in storage lockers. Even if you could get enough oxygen inside, the storage space seems too close to being buried alive. Wouldn't it be better to take your chances on the street or a park bench? I don't know. Thank god, I've never been in the position to have to make that kind of decision.

My own take-away from this trip is that home is what you make it, from moment to moment. And no one is entitled to an attic or basement  or even just a small holding space for a teddy bear and a journal or 15. You've probably realized this if your parents have moved from what you consider to be your childhood home. Home isn't storage space for your stuff, no matter how long you've had it. As wonderful (or horrible) as it is, or how much love is there, home is contingent. It's got a life span, just like those imperfect folks hanging the drapes. Be in the moment because the moment will soon enough be over. 

There's no more perfect symbol of this than the sukke. It's handmade (slow home movement, anyone?) so you are present at its birth. With its incomplete roof, the sukke epitomizes built-in obsolescence. And maybe best of all, it has no encumbrances above or below. Don't even think about storing your comic books in a sukke, son.

I was taken by the contrast between the concrete cells of the storage units and the brittle fragility of the sukke. You can't really settle into either of them. Both are peculiar abstractions of domesticity. Stage instructions. Teddy bears and photos and good china- these are props. Home is something more- a lived experience animated for a time by the people inside.

Homes come and go. But they never really go away. As with history, our homes have made us who we are, sheltered and shaped us. Which brings me to a cool new website I want to share with you. The World Monuments Fund has created a new interactive map which takes you on an interactive journey through Hasidic Poland. It's called "The Chassidic Route: An Exploration of Jewish Heritage In Southeast Poland."  It gives you pictures of Jewish landmarks in cities along the route, the landmarks' current use, and statistics on Jewish population of that city. The starting point for the route is Zamość   If you want to learn more about any of the cities along the way, I recommend starting with a resource like the YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe. Consider it a khol ha'moyed adventure.