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Walked into the Seforim store for a $4 Bentcher. Walked out with a 12-volume set, a matching shelf, and a solemn plan to finish it all over Bein Hazmanim, like a man who has ever finished anything over Bein Hazmanim.
Every Friday night I start Shalom Aleichem in one tune, slide into a second by the second verse, finish in a third, and my guests follow along so smoothly you'd think it was planned. It was not planned.
The Chasunah photographer said "just a few quick family pictures." Forty minutes later I'd been posed with every cousin, two great-aunts and a guy I'm pretty sure was the caterer, and by the time I found my seat they were already up to Sheva Brachos.
My Chavrusa and I learn every Wednesday night: twenty minutes on the Lakers, twenty on real estate prices, fifteen on who got engaged, then we finally open the Gemara, see we're still on the same Daf as October, and agree it must be a really deep Sugya.
It's barely Kislev and the bakery already has Sufganiyos in the window, so naturally I'm four deep. Chanukah celebrates a little oil lasting eight days. I'm celebrating a lot of oil lasting on me until Pesach.
Bought a $90 bourbon for Kiddush Club this Shabbos that promises "notes of caramel, toasted oak, and vanilla." The Schnapps I grew up on at Shul had exactly one note, and it was "for medicinal purposes."
Airport Mincha is peak Jewish efficiency: ten strangers at Gate B14 find each other in 90 seconds using only Yarmulkes and eye contact, agree on Mizrach, pick a Chazzan, finish before Group 3 boards, and somehow a guy is already collecting Tzedakah.
Got a text that opened with "URGENT ALERT FROM KOLLEL CAR RAFFLE," so I braced for a missile siren, an Eruv down, or at least a Shiva. Nope. The urgent alert was that tickets are still available. The last time anything was this urgent in my life, Neilah was ending.
Happy Veterans Day to every man and woman who served. Because you stood guard, the rest of us get to Daven, learn, raise our families in freedom, and argue about Cholent recipes in peace. Hakaras HaTov isn't just a Middah, it's the least we owe you. 🇺🇸
Being a Lakers fan in Hollywood, Florida is the closest thing I have to Galus: far from home, misunderstood by the locals, and staying up way past midnight waiting for the Geulah.
Happy Rosh Chodesh Kislev! That gives me about 24 days to find the Menorah I put somewhere "so safe we definitely won't lose it this year," which is the same place as the Lulav case, the Afikoman from 2019, and every Chanukah Gelt I ever confiscated.
Ate one Fleishig meatball at 12:02 to be polite, and now I can't have a latte until 6:02. Six hours of Milchig withdrawal for a meatball I didn't even like. I've never watched a clock this closely in my life, and that includes Shkiya on Tisha B'Av.
The Eruv hotline is the only automated message on earth I listen to start to finish without mashing zero, and I still call back two more times to make sure she said "up."
It's November and I already got my first Pesach program email. 24-hour tea room, world-famous Chazzan, Shiurim by the pool, early bird pricing ends Friday. Sir, I'm still vacuuming Matzah crumbs out of my car from LAST Pesach.