An Interview with Myself

In the six years since I first began writing for the Jewish Journal (four of them as a weekly columnist), I’ve interviewed many dynamic people, including authors, activists, dignitaries, journalists, my mother and most recently, Israeli grandmothers (in honor of Israel’s 75th birthday). 

But I have yet to interview the one person who truly means the world to me, in all her brilliant, lovely and humble glory: myself.

If this experiment is successful, I look forward to conducting more interviews, one with my younger self (past), one with my older self (future) and one with the artificial intelligence-version of myself (ChatGPTabby).

Since May is my birthday month, I decided to do just that. I don’t take it for granted that the Jewish Journal might be the only Jewish newspaper in the world, whether in print or online, to publish an interview a writer has had with herself. If this experiment is successful, I look forward to conducting more interviews, one with my younger self (past), one with my older self (future) and one with the artificial intelligence-version of myself (ChatGPTabby).

The following has been edited for clarity, length and above all, to prevent any chance of embarrassing myself irrevocably. 

Jewish Journal: Hello, Tabby.

TR: Hi, Tabby.

JJ: Thank you for agreeing to speak with me for this column. Do you always show up for interviews in bare feet and sweatpants?

TR: I work from home. You’re interviewing me from home. 

JJ: In that case, we should get something to eat out of the fridge. 

Ten minutes later.

JJ: Let’s start with some thought-provoking questions. For one thing, it’s pretty self-serving to interview yourself, isn’t it?

TR: I thought it would be clever and refreshing. And writing too much about Iran, Jewish life and my mother can be monotonous (though very important). 

JJ: So you thought you would devote an entire column to yourself?

TR: Can I get another interviewer?

JJ: No. Believe it or not, you’re the only person who actually wanted to interview you. And I’ll be nice, I promise. I researched you quite well. You could even say I know everything about you. 

TR: Then you must know where I put my favorite spatula that I packed away with the other chametz cookware before Passover. For weeks, I’ve been flipping pancakes with a knife. 

JJ: We really don’t have time to discuss such frivolous matters. My first question focuses on food. Do you have a favorite snack?

TR: You’re interviewing me so you can ask about my favorite snacks? I love blueberries, croissants, curly fries and cheese puffs. One of the best days of my life was when Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s added a hechsher (kosher certification) to their cheese puffs. 

JJ: For someone who’s no longer 15, I didn’t expect you to consume such a copious amount of junk food. 

TR: I know my priorities. In the words of Erma Bombeck, “Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the ‘Titanic’ who waved off the dessert cart.”

JJ: She was great. If only you were funny and talented enough to be called “a Persian Erma Bombeck.”

TR: Can I please get another interviewer?

JJ: I said no. I canceled an entire afternoon of phone-scrolling to conduct this interview. Let’s move on. What do you wish more people knew or appreciated about the Iranian Jewish experience?

TR: Finally, a deep question. Thank you. Iranian Jews are like delicious watermelons. 

JJ: Green on the outside and full of seeds, even when they’re advertised as seedless?

TR: I mean that watermelons, like all fruits, grow in a certain environment. For 2,700 years, we metaphorically grew in one land: Persia. We were Israelites who arrived in Persia, straight from Samaria, and stayed there from the eighth century BCE until 1979. Can you imagine how much being Persian and Jewish is ingrained in us? 

We’re eternal watermelons (for the record, I love watermelon). You simply can’t transplant a watermelon from the only soil it’s known for nearly three millennia, replant it in countries such as Israel, Canada or the United States, and expect the same results. In 1979, Iran’s soil became metaphorically contaminated, and we were saved by other magnanimous states. In Israel, we threw the watermelons in with the cantaloupes, honeydews and other melons and told them all to never look backward. 

In America, we tried to metaphorically grow watermelons by hanging them from trees. “Be individualistic!” we urged. “Just hang from this branch, cut off from former emotional and communal support systems. You’ll be isolated and lonely, but professionally successful.” So we began floundering. Many of us are still floundering. But we’re still amazing. I don’t if any of this makes sense. 

JJ: Not really, but now, I’m in the mood for watermelon. 

TR: It’s best served with salty feta cheese and sweet cardamom tea. Everyone knows that. 

JJ: What led you to become a writer?

TR: Another meaningful question! If you love something, the passion (and, hopefully, the skills to do it) are transferable from profession to profession. As a child, I loved creative writing. As a young adult, I infused writing into my work tasks at every opportunity. Soon, I became a public speaker, discussing issues related to Iran, Israel, Jewry, women and much more. Speaking is like writing, without the delete button. Today, I’m so grateful to my readers (and editors). 

JJ: How interesting. And do you prefer burgers or hot dogs?

TR: You were on such a roll. And that wasn’t a pun. I see we’ve downgraded to the simpler questions again. I guess a broken clock can still be right twice a day. I love burgers. As far as hot dogs are concerned, I’ve always wondered how they fit all those meat trimmings, tennis shoes and shredded newspaper into such a tight casing.  

JJ: Do you have a favorite Jewish celebrity?

TR: What an L.A. question. My favorite Jewish celebrity is Jess Oppenheimer, who passed away in 1988. 

JJ: You love the father of the atom bomb?

TR: That’s J. Robert Oppenheimer. Jess Oppenheimer was the creator and head writer of “I Love Lucy.” Everything I needed to learn about life, love, wit and timing, I learned from that show. It also taught me English. 

JJ: Describe one of the proudest moments of your life. 

TR: When I finally learned enough English to help program our family VCR back in the mid-1990s.

JJ: Do you have a few favorite columns that you’ve written for the Jewish Journal?

TR: I have a special place in my heart for “Next Year in Tehran” (January 2023). In the humor category, my favorite column, which I wrote in November 2022, is titled, “If The Pilgrims Had Been Jewish.” I had a great time writing that one.  

JJ: Let’s do some “fast takes.” Favorite aspect of being Jewish: 

TR: The fact that being Jewish is the only part of me that’s stamped on my soul. I am it and it is me. 

JJ: Favorite Jewish food?

TR: My mother’s slow-cooked tongue and black-eyed peas, a Persian-Jewish Rosh Hashanah staple. I should clarify that the tongue belongs to a cow, not to my mother. 

JJ: Favorite city in the world?

TR: Los Angeles. The LA I once knew is still there somewhere, buried beneath all that crime, tragic homelessness and maddeningly overpriced gas. And Jerusalem. There’s a little hill on Ramat Eshkol, with an olive tree, that’s my happy place. I like to sit beneath that tree, speak to G-d and enjoy some sweet, seedless watermelon.

Tabby Refael is an award-winning weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal, and an LA-based speaker and civic action activist. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram @TabbyRefael.