Hoodlum Hasidim

On Monday, Ray and I had to go home, rent a van, and bring it back to the Ren Faire. The leather shop needed to be packed up, and none of us have cars big enough to bring back all the crap they've accumulated over the summer, at least not in one trip. Thus, it was up to me to keep Ray company as we traversed half the state of Pennsylvania twice in one day.

Luckily we had plenty to talk about, such as setting a date for our wedding (March 17, 2007), a place for the wedding (Oahu, Hawaii), how big the wedding should be (SMALL: only 30 people or fewer, so don't be offended if you don't get an invitation), and if we should have a big reception when we get home for our friends who can't make it all the way to Hawaii (that's a big yes).

At one point, we stopped at a rest stop, and I saw the strangest sight. There were about three or four guys sitting at a table outside the rest stop building, smoking and chatting. Nothing strange about that, I know, but they all had thick beards, those curly locks in front of their ears, and all of them had tassels or tzitzit hanging under their shirts. I immediately pegged them as Hasidim, but there was something incongruous about them: they were all wearing brightly colored baseball caps and smoking.

Now, I'm not Jewish, so if I offend any of you with my ignorance, please forgive me. But my only exposure to Hasidim have been at banks and on the subway in New York. And usually they're dressed in black and white, no colors at all, so the baseball caps were throwing me for a loop. And since I've never seen a Hasid outside a non-smoking area, I have never seen them smoke. I suppose my feeble mind thought their strict religious practices would prohibit smoking, since it's bad for you. So the first thought that came to my mind was, "Hey, these are hoodlums. They're sitting outside wearing colors and smoking! Those are some real bad boy Hasidim!"

Anyway, the thought gave me the giggles. Hoodlum Hasidim are taking over the rest stops on the PA Turnpike. Guard your daughters and lock up your dogs. There's Trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for Pareve.