I'm not a Jew, but I play one on my blog.

Jayberg, here, reporting as your honorary Jew for this Season of Lights. I have to say, being Jewish is a lot more work than I expected. I thought I could just throw some Neil Diamond and some Bette Midler on (don't even suggest Streisand - that voice makes my blood curdle), make a few harmlessly dated jokes, and WHAM! Instant Jew. I mean, I made latkes for a class project during my senior year of high school. And despite the fact that I graduated from a Catholic high school, the two girls whose lockers were on either side of mine had the last names of Gordon and Glassman. No, I'm not Jewish by birth, but I'm definitely Jew-friendly. And being raised an uberCatholic, I think I've got the guilt thing down.

But who knew a Menorah was so much work?

First of all, the candles presented a problem. They wouldn't stay put in the weeks prior to lighting them. I finally had to cheat and light the bottom ends and stick them into their respective spots. The melting wax held them in place. Then there was the actual lighting. FB was witness to the first night. Chilarity ensued when the first night spontaneously begat the second night, followed soon by night number three. To follow tradition, you see, I placed my lit Menorah on my balcony, where all of my neighbors could see. The wind (or the Holy Spirit, if you wanna be Gentile about it) had other plans. So I decided to end the night early and blew out the candles. I'm sure the Maccabees would understand. Which brings up an important point: Chanukah, for the record, is not simply "Jewish Christmas." It's a beautiful story about a miracle and a story of standing up for who you are in the face of people not getting it. If you're interested, go read here.

Night two was pretty much a repeat of night one. Except this time I wised up and dropped water onto the wicks of nights three and four, just to be safe. All was well. Well, except for the fact that there was a gas leak in my apartment. FB was concerned for our safety. I kept arguing that G-d would protect. FB argued that if we were actual Jews, maybe that was the case. Given the Chosen People's track record of bad stuff happening to them, I thought it best that end night two early as well.

Last night went off without a hitch. The candles all stayed lit or un-lit, as they should be. Pity that my plan to make latkes went kaput as the oven had to be shut off for our safety. As far as setbacks go, that ranked pretty minor on the scale.

Tonight, as you can see above, the lights look beautiful. I will no doubt need replacements for the next few nights candles, but I think I'm getting the hang of this. And, truth be told, I'm actually finding it more than a little beautiful to leave those candles for all to see in my neighborhood. Who knows? Maybe this will become a tradition in my house. The Jews and the Gays have more than a few things in common. For one,we're often the underdog, but we keep a sense of humor about it. A lot people don't get us. Screw 'em, I say.

In the end, I think I get a C- as Jews go. In place of the traditional chocolate gelt, FB and I broke into the lovely box of See's Candies that Armi gave me (in Chanukah paper, no less!). My first choice? A marshmallow caramel. So. Not. Kosher. Also, I'm getting a tattoo this weekend, which means I cannot be buried in a Jewish cemetary. Not that I was planning on it, but still, a boy likes to keep his options open.

To paraphrase Walter from the Big Lebowski: "Three thousand years of beautiful tradition, from Moses to Sandy Koufax..." I am proud to have "lived in the past" a little this year.

Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam
Blessed are you, Lord, our God, sovereign of the universe
shehecheyanu v'kiyimanu v'higi'anu laz'man hazeh. (Amein)
who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season (Amen).

Don't worry - I'm not changing my name to Esther or anything.

-J.

This post was sponsored by the L'Chaim Coming Out Committee.