Actually, I'm fairly certain that's
not how I should describe it, but my Irish was up, and it truly was a good
time.
(Lots o' pics for the dial-up
set)
I just wanted to capture a few thoughts before
the sands of time and the vicissitudes of doddering age wash them away. I'll try
to avoid any hint of anthropologizing the Interesting People With Such Very
Different Customs that this effort risks, however well-meaning it might
otherwise be.
The temple ceremony was
fascinating, in mixed English and Hebrew - between the language and the rite
there were whispering echoes I felt I should almost comprehend, if only I turned
my head just the right way, if only I could catch the cadence of the words.
Although no doubt far different than Jerusalem worship 2000 years ago, I had the
sense that this would have been a far more familiar environment to my Guy than
His church is today.
There was a
security guard in the parking lot - I took this in quietly, to turn over and
examine later in more detail. Before the temple entrance was the simulacrum of
an antique gate - a copy from a temple in old Europe that was.
One
of the Torah's in the temple's possession had belonged to this 16th century
temple. It had been seized and archived by the Nazis for a historical display
once their Final Solution had been fully realized. Liberated after the war, it
made its way to Carmel Valley, California - becoming yet another unlikely
survivor of the Holocaust.
Perhaps I
was overcome by the atmosphere because I had my very own miniature Annie Jacobsen moment once inside: A shadow
passed outside the window - a large, swarthy man, heavily mustachioed, flitted
by the glass. My eyes narrowed for a moment. As he passed by the next window, I
saw him for what he evidently was - a Hispanic maintenance worker. Whether my
flickering suspicions were prudent in the moment, or merely the workings of an
over-active imagination I leave to the reader, with this caveat: I do not think
they would have occurred to me, if this vignette had presented itself outside my
church.
After a beautiful ceremony,
in which a sense of family, tradition and community were as much a part of the
atmosphere as the air we breathed, we went to a reception right next door to the
temple.
Food, fine company, even
dancing - the Biscuit had a blast, events from this point on were tailor-made to
her enjoyment.
Even
your humble scribe managed to lever his bulk away from the table for bit of that
ol' rug cutting, with his favorite dance partner. No, there will be no pictures
of that. But I will show one of the Kat's dedication to line dancing - the
casual observer would have thought precision to be a matter of great import in
this
exercise.
Our
neighbor at the table had come with his family from Israel for the Bar Mitzvah -
he's one of the folks I took around on the
Reagan
last week. Really enjoyed that visit, was enjoying being off the grid for a time
over here - at home, he said, he felt compelled to be on top of the news at all
times, always in communication with his family and friends - here he could
unplug for a bit.
Life during wartime,
I guess.
His daughter went to one of
our local malls, and was surprised that each open air place she visited, every
crowded store, had something missing: Armed security
guards.
SNO, myself and the Kat ran out
of gas far sooner than the Hobbit and the Biscuit, who bore the burden of the
family honor well after we had made our grateful exit, well fed, well satisfied,
well ready for the comfort of our own places of
rest.
The last I saw of the Hobbit,
heading out the
door?
A
good craic.
Posted @
12:14 PM
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Posted in
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Sendit
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Credo
"Sign on, young man, and sail with me. The stature of our homeland is no more than the measure of ourselves. Our job is to keep her free. Our will is to keep the torch of freedom burning for all. To this solemn purpose we call on the young, the brave, the strong, and the free. Heed my call, Come to the sea. Come Sail with me." - John Paul Jones
"Pardon him, Theodotus; he is a barbarian, and thinks that the customs of his tribe and island are the laws of nature" --George Bernard Shaw, "Ceasar and Cleopatra"
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."--Friederich Nietzsche
