Last night as the sun went down, Jews in New Orleans and around the world kicked off one of the most important–and for some, most dreaded–holy days on the calendar: Yom Kippur. Important, because it’s a day of atonement, where Jews are given the opportunity to acknowledge and amend the sins they committed in the previous year (i.e. the year that ended with Rosh Hashanah, nine days earlier). Dreaded, because it involves a lot of sitting in synagogues and 25 hours of fasting.
Being about as non-Jewish as they come–a Southern Baptist with Lebanese genes–I can’t fully participate in today’s goings-on. However, in honor of the many “members of the Tribe” (as someone once mistakenly called me) who have made New Orleans great, I’d like to observe a modified version of the holy day, acknowledging a handful of my personal transgressions from the past year–specifically, crimes against the city I call home. And for you Catholics, I’ve put them all in “deadly sin” format, so they’re easier to digest:
Sin #1: Succumbing to the sin of pride, I have declared on this website, in interviews, and from street corners on all three coasts that there is, in fact, no place like New Orleans, and that I’d rather live in a dark, un-air-conditioned hovel here than in a mansion in Houston.
Sin #2: Succumbing to the sin of covetousness, I have envied the brightly lit, well air-conditioned mansions of Houston.
Sin #3: Succumbing to the sin of sloth, I have not yet gotten around to painting over the markings left by the National Guard when they checked my house for bodies on September 16, 2005. But then again, I’m kind of a sentimentalist.
Sin #4: Succumbing to the sin of gluttony, I have devoured every bit of New Orleans cuisine I could get my hands on–not only during my six-week “hurrication” in Lafayette, but also since my return, as favorite shops and restaurants have reopened. On those occasions where I have succumbed to the sin of sloth (see item 3 above), I have had others procure such delectables on my behalf and deliver them to me for consumption. ‘Cause, I mean, really, who has the time to stand in line for an hour at Brocato’s for a dozen cannoli?
Sin #5: Succumbing to the sin of anger, I have wanted to rip the lips off our Cukoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs mayor following the announcement of his ill-starred casino district, or his very poorly timed WTC comment, or the infamous (and overrated) “chocolate city” comment, or…well, basically every time he’s opened his mouth since mid-September 2005.
I’m pretty sure I’ve committed greed along the way, too, and there’s definitely been more than a little lust in my heart–even for our idiot mayor, in the early days–but, you get the picture, right?
Okay, Jewish year number 5766 down, now on to 5767…
sturtle [dot] com 