Several years ago my family first encountered a women named Estelle Rosenthal. There is a rather lengthy story about the way Estelle came into being which would go on forever if I attempted to tell it, so I will just tell you about who she is and the absurd event that she caused to occur in my family.

In reality Estelle Rosenthal is my uncle Alan, who is a rich, famous and Academy Award winning composer. He is not a transvestite and he does not suffer from multiple personality disorder, Estelle just comes out at family gatherings from time to time. She tells stories about where she grew up, in village in Eastern Europe near the river Colitis. One of her most famous stories is that of the Shevengaboom.

The Shevengaboom is a life cycle event in Estelle's village. On a girl's sixteenth birthday she goes riding through the center of the town on a pig while the entire population of the town stands and throws old socks at her while shouting "Shevengaboom!" Until recently this had only been a story in my family, a piece of humorous fiction that we had all enjoyed listening to and laughing at.

Strangely enough, everyone in my family has always had a sort of odd belief in Estelle. We have always talked about her almost as if she were a real person, so I suppose it should come as no great surprise that my grandmother decided that for my sixteenth birthday we should have a Shevengaboom.

My grandmother planned the whole thing out very carefully. She sent an invitation out to the family and decorated the whole house with pig paraphernalia. My uncle wanted to rent a real pig, but he couldn't for various reasons. Everybody saved up old socks (my mother saved torn pantyhose for months).

When the day finally arrived everybody went to my grandparents' house dressed in peasant clothes (except for Estelle who was dressed nicely in a long black coat, a wig , a hat with flowers and even lipstick and blush).

We all went down to the basement where we began the ceremony. First we all had to say "Oy! No!" several times. A basket in the shape of a pig was tied to my head (for the socks to land in). Next I rode through the basement on a huge purple Snoopy doll that was dressed up as a pig and everyone threw old socks at me and shouted "Shevengaboom!" After riding back and forth several times Estelle proclaimed that I was now "Chazerai."

The whole event ended with Estelle telling the story of "The Shevengaboom That Never Was," which is the story of a little girl name Pupika who was eaten by a pig the night before her Shevengaboom. The moral of the story was "If you sleep with a pig don't expect to have anything more than a pupik in the morning."

This entire story that I just told you was true. I have proof on videotape. It was rather absurd.