Sitting inside a new brewery in San Diego (we have like 300) owned by a Jewish family that chose a Nordic theme, decorated with ship paintings and large round shields, I looked across the room at the 100 or so Jews as Rabbi Nadav spoke of Buddha and Moses. The Rabbi was educated at every Ivy league you can think of. With a trim goatee, glasses and brown kippa to match his velvet brown vest read from a print out about the fact that like Buddha, Moses had three experiences that changed the course of his life.
I remember my long walks with my mother. We lived with one grandmother and we would go and visit the other grandmother across town. Upon the death of my grandfather, my parents moved in with my father’s mother and I stayed with my mother’s mother as it was close to the school I had already started. Thus we would often walk from one grandmother’s home to the other and to pass the time, my mother would talk to me. It was on these walks that she would impart the wisdom of the twenty-something that she was at the time.
I stepped onto the mat and in front of me was the perfect specimen of Bavarian Arian superiority. He wasn’t tall, about my height, blond with wide shoulders and perfectly cropped hair. Barely an accent, but there was a distinct German look about him. The moment I heard “I’m from Bavaria.” I thought of Hitler and the birth of National Socialism, NAZI.