Aviva,
12 years ago, you came into the world with a worry – you were sick and we didn’t know if you would make it. In fact, we had our first Purim Seudah without you, a picnic with the Zimmermans and the Senior Goldfarbs on a patch of grass at Tel HaShomer hospital.
But make it you did, and splendidly.
After I announced your birth in an email to my coworkers, there was a discussion. Was it better to patent a baby or to copyright it? After all, as someone pointed out, patents only last 20 years, while copyright lasts long after the death of the author. Clearly, copyright is better. My feeling, though, was that after 20 years of caring for my child, I figured I’d be ready for the public to enjoy her.
That silly conversation has stuck with me and I’ve always wondered how I might patent a baby – you, in particular. So, in the spirit of silliness that this holiday engenders, I prepared some claims. But before I read them to you, I have to explain to you about claiming.
When one looks at an invention, there is often more than one way to describe the invention, and each description is equally valid. It’s like … that Indian story I’ve told you, the one with the six blind men and the elephant, which (briefly) goes like this:
Six blind men go to see an elephant. Each one approaches the elephant from a different side and thus, touches a different part of the elephant. One touches the side, one grabs the tail, one the tusk, one the ear, one the knee and one the tail.
The one who touches the side considers that the elephant is very like a wall. The one who touches the tusk, considers the elephant to be like a spear. The one who touches the tail - a rope. The one with the trunk - a snake. The one with the knee - a tree. And the one with the ear – a fan. The story ends by saying that the men argued their case loudly with each other, none of them able to see the other’s view.
Each blind man saw only a portion of the elephant but felt that it was the full description. It is this concept that we use in claiming the different aspects of an invention.
I can claim you in the same way – let’s see, like the elephant, you have a side which is … very flexible, and so I can claim:
1. A young lady named Aviva, comprising:
A head and a flexible body,
wherein the flexible body twists and turns into headstands, backbends and other gymnastic moves.
Like the elephant, you can trumpet most noisily! and so, I can claim
2. A young lady named Aviva, comprising:
A head with a mouth, and a stomach with a diaphragm,
wherein the diaphragm pushes air through the mouth and the mouth pushes said air through a trumpet to produce (mostly) nice melodies.
Unlike the elephant, you are our daughter, so I can claim:
3. A young lady named Aviva, that is the Aviva who is Heidi and David’s daughter, wherein said daughter is having a “mishteh gadol” for her Bat Mitzvah, and wherein said daughter is much loved by her parents, grandparents, cousins and friends.
Actually, that last claim, or most of it, was your idea, for the invitation. It comes from your time spent learning the Megilla leining, repeating it over and over again, so much so that you can quote it – and write in the style of it, as we did with the invitation.
The truth is, you don’t want to patent a baby or a young lady, because each person is an individual. We love you, Aviva, multi-talented, multi-faceted you, just as you are. And, for the moment, we don’t want anyone else to have you.