Glitzy affairs create priceless memories

For the party following my oldest son's Bar Mitzvah, we flew in an Elvis impersonator from Dallas.

I have nothing against muted, tasteful, child-centered Bar Mitzvah celebrations, but I like glitz and even silliness.

About a year ago, I heard on the radio about a Maryland Bat Mitzvah party for which the entertainment was the very popular boy band, ‘N Sync.

Try as I might, I couldn't work up the bemused disgust the announcer seemed to deem appropriate for such tidings.

My repeated thought was, "Wow!  I bet those kids had the time of their lives!"

Mitzvah projects, donations to charity, the Bar or Bat Mitzvah student showing off his or her years of study with a significant part in the service — yes, yes, yes. 

Smoke machines, ice sculptures, souvenir refrigerator magnets — why not, why not, why not?

Anything and everything that falls under the rubric "good clean fun" seems to me to be acceptable around a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. 

This is partly my husband's doing. As he says, it's a common fallacy that a Bar or Bat Mitzvah celebration is done for the child's sake. It's not done only for the child's sake, my husband argues, it's done for the family's and the community's sake.

The child is, of course, the center of attention — the whole reason for the various gatherings — but the events should be appealing to all ages. 

Attendees at a Bar or Bat Mitzvah often come from far away, at some personal inconvenience, and they deserve to be treated as honored guests.

They should feel that effort and expense and the desire to make them happy have been put into their welcome and entertainment.

This doesn't necessarily mean a lavish party, but it does imply a level of care and planning.

Hospitality is the hosts' gift to their guests, and it can make both giver and receiver happy.

Yes, some might say, but what about $200 gift baskets? What about a post-Bar Mitzvah dinner with more business associates attending than friends? 

Anyone would desire that celebrations around a religious event be planned with a pure heart. But, humans are human, and at least it's a religious event that's being planned around. 

One person's "it's too much" is another's "perfect, just perfect."

Perhaps those wildly expensive out-of-season flowers are the finishing touch for the host and hostess, the detail that makes them happy. 

Possibly, the flowers are simply status symbols or an exhausted kowtow to a maniacal party planner, paid or volunteer.

But, for a guest or outsider, the significance of any of the party arrangements need not be a matter of concern. 

Thinking the best of everyone, including the hosting family, is the order of the day.

Just as a bride is always beautiful, the Bar or Bat Mitzvah youth always does a wonderful job.

Discussing the whole "lavish Bat Mitzvah" issue with a friend, he asked, "What are you going to do for a wedding?" 

That is a good point, but here's another: how many of your Bat Mitzvah guests will be around for the wedding? And even if they are, who's to say a wedding is guaranteed?

This spring, my husband's Uncle Harold died in Florida in the middle of a poker game. Before his funeral, my husband and I chatted with his children, and they recalled how much Uncle Harold had enjoyed his brief time in Dayton for our son's Bar Mitzvah. 

"Boy, did he talk about that weekend!" his daughter said.

Last fall, my mother's cousin, Ruth, had a stroke; in April, my mother went to Arizona to prepare Ruth's house for sale, because Ruth had moved permanently to a nursing facility. 

What did my mother find as the sole photograph on her cousin's bedside table? A framed close-up of Ruth with our ersatz Elvis.

Life is uncertain. Flying in an Elvis can be worth it.

Martha Moody Jacobs is a physician who left her practice to spend more time with her family and pursue her love of writing. Her novel, Best Friends, was published by Riverhead Books in 2001. She and her husband have four sons. They live in Centerville.