Pomp you up

Tonight was my son's high school graduation. And I don't mind telling you, I took it just fine. I was a pillar of strength, unmoved by hearing Pomp & Circumstance as all these fine young adults marched down the aisles, reaching the end of their four-year journey and celebrating what they've accomplished these last few busy years of their lives.

Who're we kidding. From the minute I sat down you could've wiped the floor with me.

There's something so poignant and wonderful about seeing all these kids - many whom I've known since they were in first grade - getting ready to go out in to the world to make their marks, take their chances, learn their lessons and celebrate their successes.

The secret they don't know, can't know, is that this is the best part. Right now, when it's all ahead of them.

His graduating class is about a hundred and twenty. The entire high school is around six hundred. They all know each other. They've built relationships that will last a lifetime. It's easy to see this class is close and intends to stay that way.

I envy them. My high school memories aren't nearly the caliber theirs will be. I'm in touch with friends I want to be in touch with from that time, but it's nowhere near a hundred twenty people. As I think about it, that's probably a good thing.

My graduating class alone was the size of his entire high school. That's what I get for going to a primarily Jewish public school in the Fairfax district instead of a private Christian school in Cerritos. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Jesus was one of our boys - amIright?

Anyway, besides bursting with tears I was bursting with pride for my boy. I love him something fierce, and I can only dream of one day becoming the quality human being he already is. He's compassionate, intelligent, funny, inventive, resourceful, determined, imaginative, brutally handsome. And now, he's on his way to his next important stage in life..

One of the pastors who spoke tonight said tomorrow they're freshmen all over when they start college. Then they're freshman again when they get married. And freshman yet again when they have kids of their own. I know exactly what he meant.

I'm a freshman when it comes to letting my boy go.

Why did the chicken cross the gays

The other day I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt that read, "I had gay sex at Chick-fil-A." It was interesting, because I didn't even know they had that on the menu.

Here's the thing: I support gay marriage. And I also support great-tasting Chick-fil-A chicken sandwiches, especially with their awesome cole slaw on the side.

What's a Jewish centerist Democrat to do?

This isn't what a lot of my liberal friends will want to hear, but Dan Cathy has a right to believe what he wants. He also has the right to say what he believes (see First Amendment). The rallying cry about his point of view being hateful is misleading. For that to be true, it would have to come from a malicious place. I don't believe it does. Mr. Cathy is a religious man, living his life and operating his business on Christian and biblical principles. He even goes so far as to close his stores on Sundays because he doesn't feel his employees should have to choose between work and worship. As far as I've read - and I don't know if you've noticed, but the press has been all over this - no gay person has been mistreated or discriminated against in any Chick-fil-A store, either as a customer or employee.

Of course, as much as it's his right to believe and say what he wants, it's anyone else's right not to agree with him, and not to patronize his restaurants.

It does strike me as ironic that a segment of society that bases most of its movement on tolerance and acceptance clearly has none for opinions that don't agree with theirs.

And before you lunge at me with something like, "Oh yeah, well you have no idea what it's like to be discriminated against just because of who you are!", please. I'm Jewish. I've been on the receiving end of that sentiment many times. I have a very good idea what it's like.

By the way, as admirable as it is, if we're going to start making it a point to live our values by not supporting companies that don't agree with our views, then we're all going to have to start being more consistent about it. Did you think Chick-fil-A was the only company you don't agree with? There's a long list of companies - popular companies, companies many of us shop at without a second thought - just asking to be boycotted. And they're not contributing to those disagreeable causes out of any religious belief. Which to my way of thinking makes their motives considerably more sinister than Chick-fil-A.

You know all those fun, flambuoyant commercials for Target? If you're mad about Chick-fil-A, you definitely won't be happy to find out Target donated $150,000 to anti-gay politician Tom Emmer. Of course afterwards, once word had gotten out, they apologized. But the fact remains it was a hollow apology and they did it. My guess is they're still doing it, only more covertly.

And next time you're in the market for an electronic gadget, an iPhone cover, or flatscreen television, my guess is you won't be closing the deal at Best Buy since they also contributed to Emmer's campaign.

The hunger games

As you can probably tell from the giant rabbit in the center of the table (I call him Harvey - look it up), this was our Easter dinner table before the food arrived. Easter's a unique holiday in terms of food intake. Not quite as much as Thanksgiving or Christmas, but still shovel-worthy.

Of course, the two main ingredients in the Easter dinner are ham and chocolate (Ham & Chocolate - great band. Saw them at Hop Singh's in '92).

Now, I happen to have a very special relationship with both these food groups. Sad but true, as I wrote about here, I'm actually allergic to chocolate. Fortunately the effects are only weight-threatening and not life-threatening, so my allergy doesn't prevent me from enjoying it in small quantities.

No matter how many dozens of those little chocolate eggs I have, they're still small right?

As the only 100% Jew in the family (which may be why Easter always feels like dinner at Grammy Hall's house), the other item, ham, has religious implications and overtones. Or at least it would if I adhered to kashrut - the body of Jewish law that deals with what may and may not be eaten, and how it may or may not be prepared. When it comes to dietary guidelines, Judaism has a pretty strict food pyramid.

I guess "pyramid" was a poor choice of words.

Anyway, as you may already know from this post, I'm a big (and getting bigger) fan of pork products. They are simply delicious in a way that traditional Jewish foods like matzoh, gefilte fish, and borscht never will be.

So as I do every Easter, along with the rest of my Christian family, I celebrate the resurrection - of my allergies and my disregard of Jewish dietary law.

And I can't wait to do it again next year.

Jew see what I did there?

Much to my great pleasure, and apparently great dismay of some of our more traditional friends, my wife isn't Jewish. Far from it.

She happens to be a committed Christian.

For some reason, that seems to cause some people great amounts of - what's the word I'm looking for - tsuris.

The fact we fell in love, got married, then stayed married in our unholy interfaith union seems to be a difficult thing for many people to understand. Apparently none of these people ever dated a Jewish girl. BAM!

Before you start all the mishegas with hateful emails and comments, know this: I have plenty Jewish women friends and colleagues that I love and respect (nothing but love for Mama G. and the breakfast club girls). But this is about me, and facts are facts: I dated Ann Siegel, Sandy Izakowitz and went to Fairfax High. Trust me. It's an argument you can't win.

Anyway, the question inevitably comes up about how this works with the children. While technically it's true they're half Christian and half Jewish, or as I prefer to say, Chewish, they're being raised in the Christian faith.

It doesn't bother me. Because I'm pretty much the worst Jew you know - in the practicing the religion sense, not in the as a human being sense - it's just not that important to me the kids be raised Jewish. Given how little I practice it, it'd be straight up hypocritical if it was.

I don't care if my daughter is bat mitzvah'd or my son is bar mitzvah'd. As I recall, my bar mitzvah was mostly a big party for my parent's friends. I'm still looking for the envelope with all the checks in it.

It is however important to my wife that they're raised as Christians. Fine by me.

For starters, they're going to an exceptional private Christian school where they're excelling at the first-rate education they're getting. I also have no problem with the overall values and principals they're learning.

If I'm being truthful, which always seems to get me in trouble but, you know, onward, I'll admit sometimes it's hard having the kids come home and hearing all the Jesus stories. But whenever I feel that twinge, I just remind them Jesus was part of the tribe - one of our boys.

The funny part is that my wife is much more insistent they learn about their Jewish heritage. She's the one who makes sure at Hanukah we light the candles in the menorah, although not too close to the Christmas tree.

Still, there are so many shmendriks who like to kvetsch about us not being the same religion. Which I always like to answer with this non-denominational question: what the f#@& business is it of yours?

I think there's so much about the Christian agenda in the news it just raises curiosity about our situation. Narrow-minded people like to paint in broad strokes (you know, like I do about Jewish girls), and make the assumption all Christians are on that extreme fringe. I can tell you from experience they're not, although granted my support of gay marriage isn't exactly met with open arms on Sunday mornings.

I'm also a bit surprised and upset how effortlessly some friends bash the Christian faith, painting all Christians in a way they'd never tolerate people of their own religion being portrayed if the sandal were on the other foot.

What chutzpah.

Don't you worry your pretty little heads - I still know which side my matzoh is buttered on. I'm proud of being a Jew, even if I'm not a practicing one. I'm proud my kids will grow up, thanks to their mother, with an understanding of both sides of their heritage. And I love a good "rabbi and a priest walk into a bar..." joke more than you can possibly know.

Maybe the people who make it a point of pride and claim to be so accepting will find a way to show it when it comes to respecting not only the two of us, but both our faiths.

God willing.