Smooth Criminals

A very special friend of mine wanted to go dancing last week. I admonished her, suggesting that a dance party was not appropriate to these Yamim Noraim- Days of Awe and Judgment. She went anyway, God bless her beautiful soul. That night, in that Jerusalem "coincidence" kind of way, I met a close pal of hers. He suggested that dancing during the Yamim is perfectly appropriate, if one is "dancing for redemption." What better, he asked?? And since he was cute and went to Yeshiva of Flatbush and comes with the Seal of Approval of the aforementioned very special friend of mine, I took it to heart. And told her so. And I think she was glad-- since it's Tati who judges, not wanderingstu, right? She got some dancing in that night, and she deserves a lot more, and I owe her a bit of dancing myself.

[Tati-- Abba, Avinu Malkeinu, HaKadosh Baruch Hu, Hashem, God, the Good Lord--- Tati is really the best name yet that I've found for Him. Although it does force and occasional male pronoun, which is not desired...]

Dance your souls to redemption, beautiful friends. But, contrary to the great R&B track (which I was singing two weeks ago in the streets of Tel Aviv)-- I do see something wrong with a little bump n' grind. I mean, drunkenly humping your neighbor (or a stranger) in un-awareness of the awesomeness of these Days probably doesn't exercise the soul and give drink to the thirsty spirit. Feels nice on the uglies and the ego, though.

But dance-- in a field, in your room, in the shul, in the street, Lawdy, Lawdy!

In honor of a girl named after a month named after a pagan deity, and in honor of the pain and joy and scariness and ultimate glory that is life, love, Jerusalem, the High Holidays and Tati Himself, Avraham Eliezer and I danced our tuchas off last night while listening to a little Michael Jackson. White hats optional.

God willing, our booty-shaking (and yours) will raise the holiness of all Am Yisrael, all the world, and maybe even rub off on poor MJ, who seems to have lost the funk in recent years, after all the beauty (albeit oft with macabre lyrics) he gave us.

Dance friends, dance-- and walk slowly and with open hearts, for the Gates of Judgment are open.

Have a great week. (And write some damn comments).