Tonight I was with April at the Second Cup at Yonge and Charles, talking about web sites and art. I had just finished telling her that for whatever reason - cosmic vortex, ungainly neighbourhood pressure, who knows - that particular spot is a very strange coffee shop and always has been; weird stuff frequently happens there. I was talking rather loudly on another topic, when a woman called out to me from clear across the room - "You're Jewish, I can tell. The Force is with us, man." I was wearing a Star Wars t-shirt (because when am I ever not?) so I replied "Well, you're half right, I am a Jedi, but I am not a Jew." She said that she hadn't noticed the shirt but "just knew," and insisted that I sounded Jewish and that therefore there had to be some part of me that was Jewish.

Still carrying this conversation across the entire room and quite loudly, I good-naturedly assured her that she'd got it wrong, and that there really was no Jewish in my family. She told me that by "part" she had meant my penis. Shoulda seen that coming.

I really don't think my penis is Jewish, circumcision scar or no, nor do I think that circumcision in general would automatically indoctrinate him into the tribe. If anything I'd say he's even more of an atheist than I am, because when he says "there is no God," he means it. He is not part of a chosen people; he may well be the Chosen One, but that just brings us straight back to Jedi. Anyways I didn't explain this to the Second Cup woman; she was already out the door like she'd found the Messiah and boy, I would love it if that were true. Satisfied that my original point had been proven, April and I went back to talking about web sites and art.