Happy New Year.

Or, l'shana tova. Apparently Joe Buck wished us a shana tova during a game last night, because his editor was off for the holiday. I am bummed that now my religious holidays aren't official days off from work. I am out of accrued leave after the trip to Michigan, so my Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur will be "LWOP." Apparently, though, in some private organizations they are taking to giving the high holidays as official days off (like my mother's workplace, where her best friend was a director, and Jewish, and made it happen). Perhaps the trend will spread.

Last night in LH's home town, we called in an order for pizza, and when we went with LH's mother to pick it up, the little Italian woman who owns the place says (as usual) with a big voice, "My big-a boyee!" She adores him. She asked what we were doing there on a Tuesday just for the day. We said it was Rosh Hashanah, and that we were going home that night. She said, "my sister, she lives in New York, and she gets the whole week off!" We said, oh yeah? That's nice. Then she launches into this description about "My sister, she lives in a place where the people they are all..."--and in a small, clipped voice--"Jew... and they wear wigs!" We said, oh yes, they are Orthodox. And then it was like a train wreck; she kept going, "and you wanna know what they do? They have music and dancing, and my sister says they have a big parade!" We escaped as quickly as possible, and when we came out, LH's mom said, "...like being at the zoo! Like we didn't know any of those things." I mean, I know she was just trying to connect with us about something, but the way she tripped a tiny bit before she said "Jew" made me uncomfortable because I thought she was embarassed and unsure about how to say it.