As a Jewish kid in a small city I suppose I had it pretty good, enough of us that I didn’t totally stand out, and it helped living a single block from the Jewish funeral home, some just didn’t want to travel all that far when the inevitable time came.
But we soon moved to the suburbs, the shtetl neighborhood was gone, and I was a Jewboy to more than a few, so the Temple felt like a safe place, setting aside all the OT stories which were wholly unblievable.
I took a fair number of lumps for killing Christ and all other imaginary sins freely attributed.
I wish I knew then that as an adoptee I was really only half Jewish, and that the other half among my distant kin were kings and saints as well as a fair number of sinners.
Once upon a time isn’t such a timeless expression if you take time to consider that time doesn’t actually fly nor does it march on, and if it is truly on our side we wouldn’t need to buy it. I don’t need it to smell the roses and it doesn’t wait for me, although I am still human and just killing it, but perhaps neither of us have time for this.