Legalized noise making

By Mordechai Schmutter

until they totally forget why they’re there, and the first Haman totally takes them by surprise.

“What? Oh.”

A lot of these kids show up with groggers they made in school, where you put raw beans between two paper plates stapled together. This is why beans are called “the musical fruit.” Probably.

But the thing about those groggers is that the beans keep moving. You can’t touch the grogger without it making noise. The teachers don’t really think this through. A parent has to convince the kid to put the grogger on the table and not touch it for two whole chapters. Or they have to hold his arm steady, so he doesn’t accidentally shake it until Haman shows up. And you can’t tell him why because we’re not allowed to talk while reading the Megillah.

That’s always been the challenge: We have to make noise during Haman, but we can’t talk during the reading. We have to get creative. How do you make noise without saying anything? Can I say “Boo”? I’ve definitely heard some people saying “Boo” during Haman. The jeering kind of boo, not like the kind where you’re trying to scare someone.

But that’s not really the challenge. The challenge is that every year I have to wait for Haman to blow my nose.

Okay, that sounded weird. Haman’s not blowing my nose. What I meant was that every year right after the reading starts, I realize that I really need a tissue, but I also don’t want to make noise. So I have to wait until everyone bangs for Haman and try to time my nose-blowing. Which means I blow harder, which means it is loud. But in the meantime, I’m holding back sneezing until Chapter 3 while trying to hold my kid’s grogger steady so it doesn’t rattle.

Sure, some people use those big, classic, wooden groggers. You know – the ones that weigh 15 pounds and you spin them over your head and knock out your neighbor who stands for the reading? There are a lot of cheap plastic knockoffs of this, but to be considered a Classic grogger, you have to not be allowed to bring it on an airplane. It’s the kind of thing that under normal circumstances, your mother would yell at you for playing within the house. Which I guess is the rule for almost anything that you can use as a grogger.

Why is that the classic grogger? I have no idea. Those things are actually weapons!

Probably in the old days, when the antisemites heard us blotting out Haman’s name, they got upset. So they marched into Shul, but when they saw us all holding those big, heavy things, they ran off.

Okay, so in the old days, everyone used to stomp during Haman. At least I assume so because that’s what all older people I’ve seen seem to do. I guess that’s how they grew up. And their parents were like, “This is too noisy. When I was growing up, everyone used to just frown.”

Nowadays, there seems to be this ongoing contest about who can make the loudest noise during Haman. If you sit next to an outlet, your possibilities are endless. Like, you can bring in a blender. By the end of the Megillah, if you do this efficiently, you can have smoothies for everyone. Bring some alcohol, and you have cocktails to get the party started.

Since I don’t handle liquor that well, I think I’ll stick to the nose-blowing thing.