A Return to my Roots

I never go to synagogue unless invited to work or attend a bar mitzvah and even then there must be a spread afterwards or even better, a cheque. I'm not proud of this nor am I contrite but like other lapsed Jews there is always a smidgen of guilt lurking just below the surface (with each rasher of bacon I stab a dagger right through my Grandmother's heart!!)

The Blob affords me the opportunity for some free self-administered therapy so away I go!!

There are wonderful Jews and annoying Jews, great looking Jews and others who should consider a strategically placed prayer shawl, talented,creative, funny,artistic Jews and a handful of boring nebbishes. (like my Dad's accountant Milton Speiderman...and even he had a movie made in Tel Aviv based on his heroic efforts to balance the books for the NYC head office of Bank Leumi after an embezzlement scandal threatened to scuttle the whole operation.)

The Judaic culture (holidays, meals, comedians) is great but I can do without the religious aspects. If I wanted every little moment of my day spelled out by someone else's arbitrary rules I'd have re-married long ago!!

The food (Oy the food!!) while in no way high end is still delicious and filling. A bite of a smoked meat sandwich or a toothsome knish never fails to satisfy and take me back, at least for a moment, to the old country.

The legions of the self righteous will surely protest: "Judaism (nor any other religion except for Buffeterianism) is not a buffet! You can't pick and choose the elements that appeal to you and forsake the others." and yet this is exactly what many of us do. If it turns out that we're all wrong I guess we'll all be meeting down below one day...I hear they serve a wicked matzoh ball soup!!