Partly Cloudy, 64°
It was on an unusually windy Friday in J. Walter Wilson that Alan Rubenstein '12 found a dispatch in his campus mailbox that shook him to his core. But even after reading through his now-ex-girlfriend's breakup letter, he found something that got under his skin even more: a tableslip advertising the coming Badmaash show. When he got through all of that, however, he found the one piece of mail that would come to redefine his college experience - and beyond that, his entire afternoon. He found the Hillel Community Newsletter.
It was one sentence that initially drew Rubenstein's eye. "Your continued support is critical as we embark upon a very unique social outreach program this year," the newsletter informed him on the back cover.
Rubenstein could hardly contain his rage as he shouted out for the entire mailroom to hear. "Those Jews are always asking for money… in the most grammatically incorrect way possible. Very unique? Very unique?" Then, collecting his thoughts, Rubenstein explained himself slowly, in a deep tone drenched with ill will. "Something is either unique or it's not," he seethed.
Rubenstein explained his strong feelings by expressing annoyance that he even received the newsletter. "I think they've got me on some list because of my last name," he said, "but believe me, I wouldn't know a chuppah from a sukkah."
Despite this, Rubenstein managed to raise strikingly specific criticisms. "A Saturday apple-picking journey? And they're driving there?" he said in a voice rapidly soaring in pitch. "You can't drive on the Sabbath!"
And neither did issues with the opinions expressed escape Rubenstein's reproach. "Look, here they're saying that Brown students should do more to help the community, but they don't provide specific events at which to volunteer," Rubenstein complained. "That's not being a mensch, that's being a kvetch!"
Still, it was the punctuation that hit closest to home. Reading aloud, Rubenstein noted the following passage: "'Some of these individuals are still with us - semicolon - not all.' A semicolon separates two independent clauses - semicolon - and that second clause does not stand on his own. What an unwanted intrusion of that hook-nosed punctuation mark."
Rubenstein then lowered his voice and leaned forward. "I don't want to sound like a grammar Nazi, but we have to do something about this Jewish problem." Indeed, no one can doubt Rubenstein's commitment to the cause, which has also colored his studies. Rubenstein proudly notes that he built his own concentration, C.A.M.P. - Concerned Activists Minding Punctuation.
To the casual observer, Rubenstein's case may seem a confusing one. Toward the end of an interview, a reporter asked Rubenstein, "Wait, aren't your parents-"
"Grammatically challenged?" he interrupted. "Sure, but that doesn't mean that I have to."
Suddenly, a look of horror overtook Rubenstein's visage. "To be! Doesn't mean that I have to be! Oh Lord, how could I forget to conjugate that verb? Maybe I am one of them after all!"
But Rubenstein soon took a deep breath. Looking about the mailroom, he noted quietly, "Well, at least I'm not one of those Jews."
