sometimes i have jewnose, sometimes i don't
Sometimes my nose looks Jewish, other times it doesn't. Sometimes, like on the picture to the left, it's a fat, bloated, crooked honker that belongs on some rag-selling cantor near Delancey Street.
But on other occasions, like the one captured at right, it's a sensibly proportioned white European nose...a Christian nose...a goyish nose...the sort of nose that forbids Jews from joining its country club.
And then, before you can blink, a Semitic snout emerges anew, a Hebraic proboscis of Old Testament proportions, a Talmudic parrot beak that belongs at the Wailing Wall, complaining to God about all its aches and pains and how its kids can't even bother to send a post card anymore.
I'm not sure why my olfactory apparatus can magically metamorphose from Jew to Gentile, and then back. I like to believe that it's a sign from God that I am a Chosen Being, one who is able to mend bridges and heal divisions. Do not look to your leaders for answers, my little lambs—look to my nose.
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Here's a picture of me riding public transportation. Definite jewnose there.
