With a couple of new books out, my colleagues at Tablet magazine and I are currently on book tours around the country. The indignities of domestic air travel aside, visiting communities nationwide is a pleasure, enough to convince even the most ardent New Yorker that Jewish life is as robust, creative, and brimming with potential in Detroit, Denver, and Houston as it is on the Upper West Side—and arguably more so.
But there is one thing we all keep hearing—wherever we go—that is not just depressing but downright infuriating. If you spend time with Jews of a certain much-talked-about generation, you’ll almost inevitably hear some variation on the following story.
Read Full Article »