Once again it’s erev Yom Kippur, nobody’s favorite Holy Day.  Guilt, judgment, depression, regret…YK’s got it all.  And you can’t even escape into eating and drinking, because it’s a fast day! Traditional Jews torture themselves at synagogue literally all day in an Olympian feat of fashion competition and obsession with FOOD.  With all the relentless standing, sitting, and repeating, you’d think folks would lose weight, but they’ve made sure to stuff themselves pre-fast, lest g-d forbid they starve to death.  That is, if they haven’t been given a special dispensation by their doctor to waive the fast so as to take their meds with food, lest they die, which pretty much covers the majority of worshippers.  So the traditional greeting of “have an easy fast” is mostly just a polite expression.

Me, cynical?!  Nah.  Just glad to have all that ordeal behind me.  It’s one of the few things I don’t regret, on YK.  Still, I fast out of some vestigial guilt, or just a rare excuse to cleanse the old overloaded system.  Do I contemplate deep spiritual things while fasting?  Not really.  I do my annual mental exercise of remembering how much I take eating for granted, while much of the world starves.  I observe myself obsessing over food even while knowing for a fact I’m not even hungry.  I conjecture how this psych tendency probably originates from our collective Jewish history of persecution and resulting insecurity and fear.  Mostly I just anticipate sundown (if I make it that long) and beer!  At least I admit I’m a hypocrite.

And there you have it, my infamous YK sermon, before YK has even begun.  Just thinking ahead.  Saves me the trouble tomorrow.  Still time for drink o’clock.  My son had the better idea–he went to Sweden!  Makes me contemplate…smoked salmon!  Oy.