For a few strained hours last week, I was afraid we\’d be witnessing the Jewish version of Elian Gonzalez, Part II. Could Jewish blood pressure withstand the tension of the Palm Beach vote taken hostage?
On Friday, Sept. 7, 1945, 1800 hours, at the corner of Freiherr von Stein Strasse and Eppsteiner Strasse in Frankfurt-on-the-Main, a ceremony took place.
Recently, a Chinese-American doctor was monitoring my heart as the speed and incline were increased on the treadmill during a stress test. Perhaps he wanted me to relax; perhaps he was bored and was trying to make conversation. Apropos of nothing but my presence on the treadmill, he casually tossed the question at me: \”What do you think of Lieberman as the vice presidential candidate? Were you surprised?\”I gave a perfunctory answer, yes and no, and then heard myself say, \”When I was a boy, his nomination would have been astonishing. Jews were outsiders then. But now we\’re part of the U.S., just like any other white American.\”
Gerald \”Jerry\” C. Lasensky describes himself as the Jewish community\’s traveling salesman, road warrior and itinerant emissary.
Bennett Zimmerman, a buttoned-down investment fund manager by day, stood up at the end of an evening\’s conversation and removed his shirt to reveal a T-shirt with bold Hebrew letters spelling out Ha\’am im HaGolan — The People are with the Golan.
American Jews woke up in a different country today, now that \”Seinfeld\” signed off.\n
The affinity of Jews to Chinese food reaches its apotheosis in John Krich\’s \”Won Ton Lust: Adventures in Search of the World\’s Best Chinese Restaurant\” (Kodansha, $24). It\’s no outrageous stereotype to state that, as a people, American Jews seem to need a good Chinese meal to kick-start us into the week. It\’s nothing to be ashamed of;neither is it anything to take lightly.\n
My daughter flew home for Thanksgiving with two college friends in tow. At the dinner table, the conversation revolved around computers and the antics of the Stanford Band. At some point in the course of that whirlwind four-day visit, Hilary informed me that, though she\’s been diligently studying Hebrew since she started college, a Junior Year Abroad at Hebrew University is no longer part of her plans. It\’s not that she\’s changed her mind about someday returning to Israel, where she spent an amazing summer two years ago. But she\’s convinced that, given the stringent requirements of the high-tech major she seems to have settled on, even a semester in Jerusalem would derail her progress toward her degree.
My Thanksgiving column a few weeks ago was about pumpkin pie, the sine qua non of non-Jewish desserts. In passing, Imentioned mincemeat, which I had never seen nor tasted but felt certain was the Maginot line separating \”us\” from \”them.\” Spam, lacedwith lard and pieces of raw tongue, is what I imagined it to be.\nTurns out, I had stumbled upon a widely sharedethnic blind spot.
What can American-style liberalJudaism offer Israel? After the battle over the proposed conversionbill is settled, that question will remain. We can puff up our chestsand demand equality with Orthodoxy over who is a Jew. But,inevitably, every political victory in the Knesset will beshort-lived unless we find a way to talk to Israeli Jews about theirown lives.
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