In watching and enjoying the oeuvre of Jewish Hollywood juggernaut Judd Apatow -- the "40-Year-Old-Virgin," "Knocked Up," "Bridesmaids" -- I have noticed that the romantic connection of a Jewish man to a woman who isn’t Jewish is a kind of recurring motif. Sometimes it’s implicit; sometimes it’s mined for its comic value.
Mea culpa, al chet and all that. Among my other shortcomings, I’ve been one lame blogger lately, posting nary a word for a whole week. And my sole flimsy excuse is the fact that I am, like other Jews, just now emerging from a month-long orgy of holidays.
Admittedly, the more observant Jews – the ones who spend the evening and morning of each yom tov in synagogue while refraining from electricity, driving and hundreds of other offshoots of the 39 melachot – have a better case for using the Jewish holiday excuse. Especially since most (unlike me) work for companies and organizations that remain open on said holidays and who, when not doing the aforementioned malachot-refraining and synagogue-attending, have had to scramble to build a sukkah, do laundry, cook and so forth.