First there was a Man. Then a Woman. Then in quick succession, two cats, a confused dog beast, and two kids. I stay at home with them. I'm the Man
Showing posts with label Jewish Beach Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jewish Beach Party. Show all posts

Friday, September 30, 2011

The Elusive Beach Jew

We finished celebrating Rosh Hashanah today. We're a little slow. We went to the beach.  Big part of celebrating Jewish Holidays, the beach. Jews have always been big surfers.

As part of the RH tradition, you're supposed to cast bread upon flowing waters, symbolizing the casting away of your sins for the year. I brought a lot of bread. And we cast that shit. And lo, 30 seagulls did swoop in aggressively and they did eat each one of our sins.  Yeah, dirty birds. Eat those sins.  It was weird; to watch a seagull gluttonously eat the sin of gluttony.

Then we played in the sand and the rocks and tide pools. It was perfect beyond reason. There was literally a lone bagpiper standing on a tall rock near the surf, the mournful tones of the bagpipes carrying over the entire beach and out into the sea. I think he was playing Single Ladies (all the Single Ladies).

It was a good way to close the Rosh Hashanah ceremonies.

I write this again after coming home from a run. friday night running is fun. The sights and sounds included a man and a woman holding hands and crossing the street against the light. I believe the woman was worried about it because I heard the man, who had a blond sort of Hulk Hogan style haircut stuffed partially under his cap say, "I'm in the crosswalk, so if they hit me I have a fahckin' law suit, numbah one."

I didn't get to hear number 2, but I'm assuming it was something like, "And numbah two, my internal organs have been completely useless for the last eleven years." Or maybe, " And numbah two, I'll fahckin blast a car right in the face." Probably it was simply, "And . . . what comes after numbah one?"

There were also two more drunk fans cheering me on at the park, "How many times around is a mile? Is that dog a pitbull? You have feet!"

Then there were kids smoking clove cigarettes, I swear. More kids rapping badly into an eyefone, ("I'm spittin' mad rhymes, I like limes, they used swords in olden times, muthafuckas drop dimes, etc."), one paunchy middle aged dude running around with his big ass dog. Definitely Motley.

HM

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