Hand-written scrawl on a bright orange piece of photocopy paper hanging on the street in Crown Heights:
WHAT ARE YOU
TO BE HAPPY?
For all my misgivings about living in the seat of religious Brooklyn, there are things which make me happy. Wildly happy. For all the weird and sometimes uncomfortable social things that happen — I grew up secular, and yes, I still sometimes extend my hand to shake when meeting women (some of them in my family-in-law — double ug), I will never tire or de-inspire of seeing these simple, devotion-motivated, joy-inflicted singularly happy testaments to God. Like remembering the commandment that we’re supposed to be happy for all of Adar.
So, full disclosure: Yesterday, I danced with my daughter and invited a friend over for sushi when I ran into him in the street and watched the Muppet Show before bed. What can I do to top that today? I’d love to go to the NYC Teen Author Festival, but my #1 contender makes me sound like a total loser: get to bed early.