Things I've Never Seen Before At A Bat or Bar Mitzvah

• An usher, an older man, with a ponytail. He looked like a young gentle Mickey Rourke.
• An usher with a handheld headcounter. I told him I was only dropping off.
• A service that didn't start until the reasonable hour of ten-thirty a.m.
• A pickup time of only ninety minutes later, maximum, according to the guys with the ponytail and headcounter, respectively.
• Valentine's Day.

Beautiful temple and windows, btw, dark but atmospheric, at Central Synagogue, Lexington Avenue and 55th Street. D.J. is going to be one of those lovely approaching-young-womanhood girls who all sit together in a line, behind family and other friends, next to the always-shorter boys, feet not touching the ground, hair slicked back, covered awkwardly with a yarmulke. "I've always wanted to be one of those girls," she said dreamily.


P.S. Yesterday, besides making Blueberry Muffins (have decided am not a Domestic Goddess, though the muffins are good), taking my second sick day in a row (weird bug, very tired), hauling through Manfucker (a couple about to be married go their separate ways beforehand—she to an island retreat for an all-inclusive tropical sex storm, and he to decide how to keep his secret lover, a man he also happens to have taken a hit out on), I watched D.J. perform a gig with a select few dancers from her all-kids/semi-professional dance company, and she is freaking fantastic. "A bright light in the group," the accompanist told me, a kinda cool-looking guy I've not seen before...