After a long, hard morning of Rosh HaShanah services at the temple at which the rabbi is teaching for the week, I relax at the bar by the pool here at the Mondrian hotel. A beer keeps me company while the hotdog gets itself prepared in the kitchen. Of course, they have much fancier cuisine on the menu, but sometimes one is hungry for the old standards.
The rabbi’s family said I did well, but they forget I was raised Catholic, violently Catholic. This morning, the main difference from a major Catholic mass were:
- everything in Hebrew or English instead of Latin/Greek and English
- no kneeling
- no smelly incense
Well, my hot dog is here, and I will proceed to eat it now, and to try to think of a good reason that I don’t have a bathing suit with me.