being jewish

Oh, hello there. Hi. Hey. What’s up. Remember me? GOOD. I know…. been a while since I’ve posted anything. I’m well overdue for a story about Jonah and his questions or my unshaven legs (though I must say, shockingly, they’re actually quite smooth these days. Jonah on the other hand… his questions are still incessant). Anyway… What exactly have I been doing that has taken me away from all things perfectly disheveled? I don’t entirely know. But I know I’ve been BUSY. I’ve got a pile of mail, a slew of phone calls to returns, an inbox of of unread emails, and a dozen shows that are on the brink ...Read More
Waiting patiently for the Red Sea to part….
As you may recall from the string cheese incident that rocked the nation in late 2009, my beloved 2.5 year-old son, is quite particular about food. It has to be cut just so… Served just so…. Fed just so… Nothing can touch, nothing can be too hot, and nothing, I repeat, NOTHING, may be eaten (aka stolen) from his plate, unless he is in the sharing mood and demanding that everyone at the table takes a bite (whether they like it or not). Baby-Ko’s appetite and palette is completely unpredictable. One day he may devour an entire plate of spaghetti and “meat-a-balls,” and another day he may completely protest it. Unfortunately, ...Read More
I’m Jewish. My mother is Jewish. My father is Jewish. My ancestors are Jewish. As a child I spent summers at (Jewish) summer camp, attended religious school, and was even bat mitzvah’d. I feel Jewish. Think Jewish. And catch me on a humid, not so good hair day, alas, I look Jewish. All of that Judaism, for me, has meant one thing (okay, three): Food, jokes, and tradition. Let me break this down as to what this means…. Food. This one has nothing to actually do with the type of cuisine Jews eat, because frankly, if you judged my Judaism by the “Jewish things” I eat, I would not ...Read More