traditions

Our grade school had a daily assembly where 7-10 year olds would vie for the chance to fiddle with the giant thermometer and proclaim our high temp for the day while sharing other tidbits of news and delights.

I recall the winter day, in 2nd grade (or maybe it was 3rd grade?) that a brother and a sister, the blondest kids in the room, stood up, pulled out a menorah and told us about the festival of lights.

Mitch Gordon was in my class and I'm sure we played more games of kickball than I can recall. He was like any of the other boys in my class. Usually in my way and looking to get thumped by this tomboy.

But on that sun dappled morn, I looked at him with fresh, new eyes. I can say with 100% certainty, that he was he first boy I ever remember looking at and thinking, "Hmmm...he suddenly looks interesting enough to hold hands with at recess," and, "He's so dreamy."

And thus began my on again, off again lifelong love affair with men of the Jewish faith.

Also, many of them are funny fucking bastards.