My Story 11: The difference if you marry a Jewish Princess
Jeremy Pfeffer Consultant Psychiatrist [retired] Specialised in; depression, stress anxiety …
For two years, covering my 40th birthday, I would climb into my car 0730 every Wednesday and drive; home was 302 Liverpool road, Islington, London, reverse into the road, right turn, Offord Road, HMP Pentonville with high brick walls to my right, turn left into Caledonian road, a hump in the road as I cross the Regents canal, past the massage parlour (that's for later), swing right into the Kings Cross one way system and onto Euston road. Kings Cross, St Pancreas - in its Gothic revival splendour - stations to my right. On my left, many university and public buildings - the very exam rooms I inhabited five years earlier - as both sides of my gaze merge into the underpass by Euston Square tube station, I emerge to see Great Portland Street station on my left, Regents Park to my right, Regent Street on my left with its classical Regency façade leading south towards Oxford Street. I am on Marylebone Road, I turn left, Harley Street, home to, allegedly, the worlds medical elite, and look for a space to park.
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Since the 19th century, the number of doctors, hospitals, and medical organizations in and around Harley Street has greatly increased. Records show that there were around 20 doctors in 1860, 80 by 1900, and almost 200 by 1914. When the National Health Service was established in 1948, there were around 1,500. Today, there are more than 3,000 people employed in the Harley Street area, in clinics, medical and paramedical practices, and hospitals [Wikipedia]
It is now 0729, I am parked outside no 99, the wardens don't start till 0830, button clicked to lock car and standing at the door. "Good morning Colin, coffee as usual". Jeremy says, as leaving me to close the door and walks back to his office. This magnificent, Georgian - early Victorian - mansion has an imposing winding staircase leading to the upper floors, I walk to the left, along a short passage, gents loo on my right, under the stairs, through a heavy panelled door, with a big brass knob, passed Jeremy in his 'lab', looks more like a kitchen to me, as he was flicking coffee granules straight from the jar of Nescafé, he preferred it, into two very chintzy cups. I take a seat in front of his imposing desk, shiny wood, with a leather inlay on the top. He places my black coffee on a coaster, on his desk, to my left. He sips his coffee, takes a seat and places it on the table, also on a coaster to his left. He smiles, looks me full in the eyes and …
" Jeremy I am totally, utterly, convinced you need serious help. You are insane and given your training you must surely now accept that point". "And what make you believe that Colin", he replied. For a start, Man United lost again last night and are out of the champions league. As you're a North London Jewish lad, I could understand an allegiance to Arsenal or Spurs.... But being a Manchester supporter, you need your head looking at", as I smiled. He started at me intently, looked at the decorative, fancy cornice covered, ceiling and shook his head from side to side, looked at me again, smiled and said, "your Leeds United" insanity started many years ago, I'm not able to treat that one. How can I help you today".
'At the end of my last blog, part 11, I complained to Kerry, my wife of eleven years, that life was not perfect Her response was ‘I am not your therapist, if you have a problem go and find one', so here I am.
Jeremy responded; my Yorkshire accent is not good but, "you made your bloody bed and now your bloody moaning about lying in it. You did marry a Jewish Princess, so what the bloody hell do you expect”. And this weekly ritual continued, courtesy of private medical insurance, now costing close on £10,000 per annum, for four of us, for two year.
Perplexed, I searched Jewish Princess. Wikipedia said …
‘The stereotypical subject, as described in these sources, is over-indulged with attention and money by her parents, resulting in the princess having unrealistic expectations as well as guilt, accompanied by her skill in the manipulation of guilt in others, resulting in deficient love life. The stereotype has been described as "a sexually repressive, self-centered, materialistic and lazy female," who is "spoiled, overly-concerned with appearance, and indifferent to sex", the last being her most notable trait. The stereotype also portrays relationships with weak men who are easily controlled and willing to spend large amounts of money and energy in order to recreate the dynamic which she had during her upbringing. These men tend to be completely content with catering to her endless needs for food, material possessions, and attention. The stereotype is often, though not always, the basis for jokes both inside and outside the Jewish community.”
I can remember, so vividly, the first time I read this, Eureka, I screamed. Even scarier, a word perfect description of Laurie Norman, my father-in-law. Upon seeing the funnier side, it does say, 'The stereotype is often … the basis for jokes ..'. Lambo has written a joke.
The difference if you marry a Jewish Princess
Three men Dougie, Brian and Lambo shared a house in Twickenham. Each married women of very different backgrounds. All three were teachers, as were their wives, at St. Marks Comprehensive School, Fulham between 1975 and 1979.
St. Marks Comprehensive School sat in the grounds of Bishops Palace, Fulham. The 1970’s horror film The Omen was filmed in the school grounds and used the very same church every two weeks for the entire school held communion, Dougie (Maths), Brian (English) and Lambo (PE) usually sneaked off to the greasy spoon cafe next to Putney bridge tube to miss the God bit. Together they shared a house in Twickenham (Lambo played for Harlequins RFC) and the headmaster made the front page of the News of The World. That’s all for later.
Dougie married Layla the Italian girl. She arrived as the Italian Assistant and left as his wife. On the wedding day (in Naples) Dougie said to Layla I am so proud and happy to be marrying you, I love you. However: You must, have my babies, love nurture and care for them. Breastfeed them and ensure they have only the best. Manage our home, after all an Englishman’s home is his Castle. Agree the magpie is our spiritual animal and pay homage to its God like qualities every Saturday or Sunday depending upon where Newcastle United is playing. Cook my meals, iron my shirts, wash my underwear but most of all have a fridge constantly stocked with Newcastle Brown Ale at all times. They married in Naples, Brian and Lambo were ushers and what a wonderful day it was too. They returned to England and: In the first week Dougie saw nothing, in the second week there was lots of screaming, all in Italian, but still no change. Week three was the breakthrough, on arriving home he saw a brand new American Fridge thingy in the garage alongside his MGB Roadster. (often Lambo used to be cramped up and hung over in the back on Monday mornings), on opening the fridge it was stocked with Newcastle Brown. A week later he had a plasma screen in the garage and a subscription to Sky Sports was his Xmas present. Life was yummy.
Brian married Annie an English Rose and school French teacher. On the wedding day Brian said to Annie I am so proud and happy to be marrying you, I love you. However: You must, have my babies, love nurture and care for them. Breastfeed them and ensure they have only the best. Manage our home, after all an Englishman’s home is his Castle. Pay homage to the English Rose, worship it at all times, singing the ritual hymn; ‘Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home’. Learn the hand gestures needed to perform the ritual in its symbolic home Twickenham. Travel to far off places like Dublin, Paris and Edinburgh to perform the ritual. Cook my meals, iron my shirts, make Yorkshire puddings every Sunday, wash my underwear but most of all have the fridge constantly stocked with John Smiths (official beer to England Rugby) at all times. They married in the village church, bagpipes and the rest. They returned to London and: In the first week Brian saw nothing, in the second week there was lots of screaming; she burned herself learning to make Yorkshire puddings, but still not much change. Week three was the breakthrough; on arriving home he saw a brand new gortex jacket hanging on his coat hook, It had been beautifully embroidered, Annie’s new sewing machine, with the English rose. On opening the fridge it was stocked with John Smith Yorkshire bitter, a week later he had a plasma screen in the garage and a subscription to Sky Sports was his Xmas present. Life was yummy.
Lambo married Kali, a Jewish Princess, the girls PE teacher. On the wedding day Lambo said to Kali I am so proud and happy to be marrying you, I love you. However: You must, have my babies, love nurture and care for them. Breastfeed them and ensure they have only the best. Manage our home, after all an Englishman’s home is his Castle. Pay homage to the stiletto heel, especially with seamed stockings. Worship me at all times, travel to obscure places watching Paul Rogers sing; ‘It’s all right now’. Learn the hand gestures needed to steady me when drunk. Travel to far off places like Amsterdam, Paris and Post Office Road, to perform the ritual. Cook my meals, iron my shirts, take me to Carluccios every Sunday, wash my underwear but most of all have the fridge constantly stocked with Orvietto Classico (Secco) as its perfect for my favorite hobby, cooking Bangladeshi food. They married in the registry office, a day later than planned, at the mother-in-law’s request, walked home and: In the first week Lambo saw nothing, in the second week there was lots of screaming but he still saw nothing. During week three he glimpsed a possible breakthrough; the swelling on his left eye had reduced enough to find his way, crawling - as his crutches hadn’t arrived yet- to the fridge. On opening the fridge it was empty except for a shopping list. A week later his crutches arrived and he was able to do the shopping and load the dishwasher.
Eleven years later, Lambo was sat in Jeremy's office.
Om
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