Me A Believer
My Friend's 83-Year-Old Dad (MFD) A Non-Believer
3 pm. Friday, January 17, 2014. Our town, a New Jersey suburb of Philadelphia. Our regular phone conversation: checking on each other, grocery shopping, weather, and our respective families' well being.
ME: We should catch 'Philomena' tomorrow.
MFD: What's that about?
ME: I'm not sure, but I don't think there's any cursing. Not like 'American Hustle'. Judi Dench is in it.
ME: Judi Dench.
MFD: OK. What time?
ME: First show. It's half price.
MFD: Then I can't go to--
ME: Sorry...that's right. What time do you get back?
MFD: About one.
ME: No pressure at all. Call me when you get back.
MFD: I can't drive if it's too late.
ME: I know. That's fine. I'll drive.
MFD: If you drive, I'll buy the tickets.
ME: No. It's my turn....we'll fight about it tomorrow.
ME (CONT'D): Hey, if you don't believe in God, why are you going to shul?
MFD: When I go it reminds me of my wife.
ME: I can understand that. I know how much you miss her. She-
MFD: But I'm still an atheist.
ME: OK. If you say so.
MFD: I feel closer to her when I go.
ME: I know you do. So you're going tonight and tomorrow too? For Shabbat?
ME: That's nice. Pray for me. I'll give you my social security number so God doesn't get confused. There are lots of 'Monas' in the world.
MFD: He'll know who you are.
ME: So you do believe.
MFD: Well I guess you have me there.
He laughs, hangs up the phone, and gets ready for shul. I scan the Internet to find out where 'Philomena' is playing, and if it has any curse words.