To Date or Not to Date.
As the most unpracticed, disinterested, Hebrew-school-boycotting, goy-dating Jew in my family, on the verge of a relocation to a city where the Yiddish-speaking population can be counted on less than one hand, I suddenly feel an urge to throw fistfuls of baguettes into Prospect Park's dog pond and restrict my household diet to unleavened bread. Although my own holiday rituals aren't religious in nature, distracting my brother during his recitation of the four questions and denying my mother company during the holiest day of year are as important to me as the Christmas tree I've been vying for for the last 30 years, and are practices I plan to sustain from afar. Enjoy!
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