The romance game, as practiced by Israelis and American Jews.
Special To The Jewish Week
Story Includes Video:
After three exasperatingly cautious dates and a month of coy e-mail exchanges, I got tired of beating around the bush and wrote Orie, my American prospect. I told him exactly what I liked about him, how much I liked it, and what I’d like to do about it — promptly, if possible.
When I received an email from Luba Tolkachyov, the co-founder of a new Jewish singles app, I was intrigued. Luba wrote, “I’ve been following your writing on Jewish Tech and thought you may be interested in Yenta, a new location based mobile phone application for Jewish singles.”
He’s a Lieutenant in the U.S. Air Force, but still takes orders from his mother. “Mark,” she said, “You must ask out Becky – she’s Jewish and cute; she’s a physical therapist; and she has dimples.” How did his mom know about Becky Rosenberg? “She noticed her on my Facebook page,” replied Mark.
My 11 year old son Jacob has no problem asking for me for money. Whether it’s for a new Star Wars Legos set that is priced above rubies or for a new video game so that he can learn to snowboard like Shaun White (in the warmth of our basement), he easily and eagerly asks for cash to meet his ever-changing wants and needs. No embarrassment, no hesitation.
If you were in shul today, as on any Rosh Chodesh, you may have heard the distinctive sound of a gabbai or chazan's hand whacking the bima immediately prior to the Amida (or Shemona Esreh). At many shuls this sound is accompanied by a verbal reminder to add the Rosh HaShanah prayer "Yaaleh b'yavoh," or in many cases the sound itself is meant to be a self-explanatory reminder.
This got me thinking about how this intriguing and efficient concept can be applied to other aspects of synagogue and Jewish life. Here are some humble suggestions: