By Joel H. Cohen
NEW YORK – Downtown Abie, a series about the shifting fortunes and intriguing rise, fall and recovery of a conflicted Jewish man and his family, will debut this October on public television stations throughout the nation.
It is just “a happy coincidence,” its producers say, that the show’s title so closely resembles that of “Downton Abbey,” a Masterpiece blockbuster hit for six seasons. “We should be so lucky.”
A spokesperson for BRIDGEFORSALE Productions said its optimism for “Downtown Abie” was partly based on research showing that a good portion of public TV-watchers are Jewish, “a very desirable demographic. So we decided to order a series aimed at a Jewish audience, but with universal appeal to all groups.”
The series revolves around the experiences of an ordinary young Jewish man, A.B Strong. To “fit in,” he preferred being known by his first initials rather than his given names, Abraham Benjamin, but was usually called Abie. The original family name, Shtark, has been Anglicized to Strong.
When the series opens, young Abie, fresh from service in the National Guard, has a clerical job in a lawn-service business. Eager to move up in the business world, he prepares a resume for potential employers.To glamorize his experience, but without making any false statements, he lists as his successive jobs: “Plant Supervisor,” “Branch Manager,” “Grass Roots Organizer” and “Hedge Fund Director.”
His resume somehow comes to the attention of a political party boss, who is looking for a sacrificial lamb to run for mayor. He’s impressed by Abie’s name – the two initials, and the family name expressing strength And he’s very impressed with Abie’s military service and the succession of jobs Abie has listed, beginning with a blue-collar one, then community service, and culminating in hedge-fund leadership
Abie humbly accepts the nomination and, riding the coattails of a strong top of the ticket, is elected. Invitations to lucrative investments follow. He marries a young heiress to a kugel fortune, they move uptown to a ritzy section of town, and all seems fine.
But a non-Jewish secretary mistakes Abie’s intended compliment (“You’ve got a lovely sheitel”} as sexual harassment, and he resigns.
He’s no longer invited to join in lucrative investments, or invited to lavish parties.
Abie announces to his wife that life would be better if they weren’t Jewish, and she, always compliant, agrees. He believes an important first step is to gain membership in the restricted country club. Here’s where a popular illustrative anecdote had its origin:
When he’s about to leave for a meeting with the chairman of the club’s admissions committee, his wife cautions: “When you’re asked for your soup order, don’t ask for a bowl of borscht, but for vicchysoise. For your main course, not brisket, but fillet mignon, and when you’re asked for a drink, don’t say a glass of Manishewitz, but a martini.”
He agrees to follow her advice.
But, at the dinner with the chairman of admissions, he blows his cover when he orders a martini and the waiter asks,” Dry?” Thinking the waiter had asked “Drei” (Yiddish for three), Abie’s automatic response: “No,tzvai vet zain genoog” (two will be enough).
Everything then goes downhill – literally, as Abie and his family move back downtown. Despondently, he announced to his wife, We’re going back to being Jewish.”
Her poignant response is the time-honored one that so many Jewish wives have uttered: “You couldn’t wait till after Pesach?”
A sure-fire hit.
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San Diego Jewish World reminds readers who are new to this column that it is all in fun, and nothing above should be taken seriously. Cohen is a freelance writer based in New York. Comments intended for publication in the space below MUST be accompanied by the letter writer’s first and last name and by his/ her city and state of residence (city and country for those outside the United States.)