"Funny, you don't look Jewish."

Best Friend Becky warned that moving to the northern part of Colorado Springs would mean hobnobbing with the Focus freaks and socializing with people whose only exposure to Judaism is Seinfeld.

"At least in the southwestern part of town there are *five* of us," she'd say. "That's gotta count for something."

But I believed, and continue to maintain, it's too easy to sit behind our gates - both mental and physical - and pretend *those people* are different and strange and weird. When, in reality, most of the time, they are a lot like us.

Different. And strange. And weird.

That's what I discovered in the northern suburbs of Tampa - with the Confederate flags and country music. And I'm sure that's what I'll discover here - in The Land of the Crucifix.

And so we moved to a northern suburb of The Springs and hung our mezuzah and waited for the lake of fire to consume us. In between beers.

And so here we are.

Got a letter from the boys' school today -

Come Join Us for a Back to School Roller Skating Party!
Wednesday, September 12th from 6-8pm
Free Ice Cream Sundaes for Every Skater!

Great. Can't wait.

Except, ooops, it's on Rosh Hashanah.

Right. They scheduled a school function on one of the holiest nights of the year.

So I took a deep breath, went to my happy place and sent this email to their principal.

I received the flyer regarding your back to school party next Wednesday
evening. My children would love to attend; however, the party's been
scheduled for the first night of Rosh Hashanah, one of the high holy
days in Judaism. We will be in synagogue with the rest of the Jewish community.

And if you have any Muslim students - I believe it's the first night of Ramadan as well.

At any rate, would you be willing to reschedule? If not, I just thought you should know of the scheduling conflict. Thank you in advance for your support.

I so wanted to wait until they got to know me and fall in love with my infectious giggle before starting all the "we're a part of your community now, b*tch".

Figured I had at least until December - when the boys would no doubt be forced to sing "Come All Ye Faithful" and "Jews Gonna Burn" in the Holiday Choral Concert. While wearing Christmas Tree shirts. And holding pictures of Baby Jesus.

Who knew it'd be within the first few weeks?

But like they say in Rugrats - a Mack-a-baby's gotta do what a Mack-a-baby's gotta do.

And so it starts.