"You know buddy, I have some contacts. I could call in some favors so you could have a star-studded bar mitzvah," I suggest as I drive him home from track practice.
"What are you thinking about Dad?" GoofBoy asks nervously (and not without reason.)
"What if you had your bar mitzvah party at the Brookings Institute!"
"Does it have anything to do with Brooks Robinson?" he asked warily.
"No, but you could meet Strobe Talbott!"
"Who?"
"He was the Deputy Secretary of State in the Clinton administion," I press on, "And then maybe you could have a special roundtable about Energy Market Regulations and Climate Change Policy! Wouldn't that be awesome?"
GoofBoy groans.
"You aren't really into domestic affairs, would you rather have a foreign policy bar mitzvah? We could do it at the Atlantic Council. I hear Brent Scowcroft makes balloon animals. Well, not animals, but balloon figures of old foreign policy hands like, well - Strobe Talbot!"
Believe it or not, there is a method to my madness. If I wear him down, maybe we can do the bar mitzvah party at Dogfish Head! I don't know if his friends will get much out of it - but I know I will. Too bad that while Judaism states that at 13 boys are counted as men, the right to drive doesn't come along with that. It would be so handy if he could be my designated driver.
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