Happy Rosh Hashanah!

My walk to school today passed four synagogues with numbers of people streaming in. I enjoy seeing people dressed up for religious holidays, even if I don’t understand the significance of their clothing (also I think it would be great if fedoras made a fashion comeback). Those entering the smaller Chassidic synagogue wore all black with the men in a bekishe, but outside the other synagogues I saw colorful dresses and sports-coats.

This afternoon a young man in a black suit and a yarmulke stopped me and asked if I were Jewish. I told him sorry I wasn’t, and he said “it was the nose.” It amused me because of a family story about my great-grandfather, named “Yacob,” who with his hooked nose was frequently misidentified as a Jew, to his exasperation. But in our enlightened times, I took it as a compliment.

One Comment

  1. Good stuff. Much of the daily errand-running I did in Brooklyn was in one of the city’s largest Jewish neighborhood. I have a host of stories (maybe I’ll blog some) that I could tell, but your post evokes some fun memories. More than once I was approached by some of the neighborhood people and addressed in Yiddish.

    FWIW, there is one holiday in which the Jewish people will try to “proselytize” non-practicing Jews. I think it’s in the spring, though.

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