Amele, We don't know each other, but I saw in the news today that you were "disheveled and unkempt" at your husband's court hearing. I am worried about you, mameleh. You are a Nice Jewish Girl, and your life is going down the toilet. (What do you mean she's doing well? What music nominations? But…she's missing teeth! She is bleeding through her ballet slippers! She can't even afford real street shoes! Ok, bubeleh. Sorry, sweetheart.)
My granddaughter Carla played me one of your songs on the computer. (She's very good with the computer. Such a smart girl. So she went to Boston University and not Dartmouth, like her first cousin Barry. BU is a very good school, certainly better than where her good-for-nothing cousin Lonny went, which is nowhere. His grandmother, my beloved sister Ruth, she should rest in peace.)
You, my dear, have the voice of an angel. A black angel, but an angel still. All that talent wasted on so much tsuris. Ach.
Honey, Nice Jewish Girls don't go to the drug rehab. No, no, no. (I beat my chest with each word I speak, bubeleh.) And I took it upon myself to throw an English muffin in the brook on your behalf during tashlich. You're welcome.
Carla says I have to wrap it up, so listen closely to your bubbe: If you should decide to turn your life around and might one day like to be buried in a Jewish cemetery (poo poo poo, you should live a long and healthy life) and not in some shiksa garden with crosses everywhere (but I don't judge), and you'd like to remove those farshtunken tattoos, might I suggest Dr. Stuart Lerner, a lovely boy who's not so hard on the eyes. (Yes, Carla, I remember that she's married and has a male companion, but what she needs is a Nice Jewish Boy, and you got so mad that time I gave Riva Goldenblatt your phone number at the beach club to give to her grandson that I don't interfere anymore.) Stuey is a dermatology resident at Cornell Medical, and I'm sure he could help you. (He actually went to Harvard, but his hospital is affiliated with Cornell, where Carla also didn't go, though I assure you she got a good education, even if Boston University is not Ivy League.)
Your body is a temple, mameleh. (No, sweetheart, I wasn't suggesting she go to temple, though it wouldn't hurt.) Speaking of temple, we have a lovely new cantor at Sons of Israel. I'll save a seat for you, Amila. Bring a sweater (it gets cold in the sanctuary) and your appetite. The whitefish salad at the kiddush is to die for. (What do you mean she doesn't eat?)
Love, Carla's Bubbe