I'm a culinary jew not a religious one so I knew it was Erev Rosh Hashanah because I cooked a brisket and had the family over for dinner last night. But this morning I forgot all about the holiday and drove off early to Bala Cynwyd for my weekly tennis lesson. It wasn't til I was driving back through center city and noticed quite a few sedately dressed couples on the street all heading towards 18th and Spruce that it clicked. Aha, go to synagogue...that's what you're really supposed to do on Rosh Hashanah.
When I was growing up in Yeadon, it was a big deal to miss school and spend the day at services. For one thing, it was a chance to show off new clothes since no matter how hot the day, it was absolutely mandatory to wear a new fall outfit to synagogue. My friends and I would sit in the back of the sanctuary, well positioned to make an early exit before the sermon which was always excruciatingly boring and way too long. We'd stand on the lawn outside, gossiping and flirting, while we waited for our parents, still trapped inside, to give us permission to go home and really enjoy our day off.
Every year after lunch, my mom and I would change out of our dress clothes and go off to Loehmann's in Drexel Hill for some serious bargain shopping. That little excursion was what made the day really special for me. Somehow my mom, who was much more than a culinary Jew, felt that it was all right to go shopping on Rosh Hashanah but a definite no-no on Yom Kippur. I think I still feel the same.
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