I didn’t grow up in a religious house. We were “High Holiday Jews,” which, in layman’s terms, are Jews who only attend synagogue on the most sacred Jewish holidays. On those days, we would solemnly pray and rend our garments and starve ourselves in worship of the Lord. But every other day of the year the Lord could go fly a kite.
As a child, I particularly liked Yom Kippur, when adults are not allowed to have anything to eat or drink all day. The official reason for the fast is to cleanse our souls of the sins of the previous year. I suspect the actual reason for the fast is to give Jews another reason to complain.
I used to make wagers with myself as to which elderly parishioner would faint each year from dehydration, starvation, or Metamucil withdrawal. After the first one dropped, the rest of the parishioners often gave up on their own efforts, viewing the unlucky victim as a necessary sacrifice to a merciless God.
“Oy, I’m not going like Ida, someone get me some rugaleh!” Continue reading “The Sacrificial Tuna”