Raising three boys to be well-rounded, menschy men isn’t easy, and I admit to making one or two mistakes (per hour) in my efforts to guide my sons toward actions that reflect soulfulness, integrity and compassion.
Lynn has been a widow since 1996 and is doing her best to fall in love again. But she’s finding the world of online dating difficult to navigate. On one date, she told me, “I found out the guy was a bookie.” He was in a bad mood because he had just lost $8,000.
Rabbi Charles Simon, a recent visiting lecturer at American Jewish University (AJU), asked rabbinical students how they would deal with a future intermarriage. One young rabbi-to-be said he’d welcome the couple … then tell them that, unfortunately, he couldn’t marry them.
I\’ll be 50 soon, which I\’m not afraid to admit in print. Not many men seem willing to date women their own age.
The unforgettable superheroes of comic strips became the stuff of endless Hollywood big-budget sequels. But more often than not, they began in the fevered imaginations of struggling young Jewish guys, whose wildest dreams could be hemmed in only by four panels and black ink.
When Israeli producers came to America to audition Jewish men to star in \”Nice Jewish Boy,\” their upcoming Bachelor-type reality show, I decided to throw my hat in the ring. After all, who better than me — a commitment-phobic, ardently secular, anxious, heavily medicated, pale glass of short Jewish water — to represent the American way?
This could be a chance for me to make a real difference in Israeli-American relations. I began to fantasize about my very own harem of glistening Israeli chicks in sweaty army fatigues, and all that we could do to and for one another in the name of world diplomacy. I\’d learn invaluable lessons that only these gorgeous Israelis could teach me: how to shoot an Uzi, how to chain smoke and how to have zero respect for someone\’s personal space. I, on the other hand, would pass on such valuable American skills as: driving a block away to Starbucks to spend $3 on a cup of coffee, how to say the words \”excuse me\” and, most importantly, how to apply underarm deodorant.
So, after my initial inquiry and some e-mail exchanges with the producer, I received a phone call from the show\’s production coordinator in Israel at 6 a.m. No. You heard that right. Six. In the morning.
Several years ago, my wife, Linda, and I attended a conference of psychotherapists and sat next to a recently divorced female therapist who said to us, \”Next time I\’m going to marry a Jewish man.\”
I\’m no longer a virgin. To Israel, that is. This single babe just returned from her maiden voyage to the land of milk and honey. And all I can say is — there were a lot of honeys. Jewish men everywhere.
In the restaurants, on the streets, in the shops — I didn\’t know where to flirt first. Forget a kid in a candy store, I was like a Jew in a bagel store. I\’ll take a dozen — hot ones if you have them. Israel is a single Jewish girl\’s fantasy.
I\’m an experienced multidater, so I\’m usually pretty good at juggling men.
The frothy if sometimes clichéd romance, a lesbian take on \”Sex and the Single Girl,\” puts a new spin on the saga of the befuddled single woman (\”Annie Hall\” meets \”Bridget Jones\’ Diary\”).
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