I probably should have called this A long Passover walk, because as we know, the original après Seder stroll was one for the record books. But they didn’t have record books back then either, eh? Oh well, whatever…
One could call it the mother of all fitness walks. (Sorry, couldn’t help it.)
In honor of the holiday of my ancient ancestors I “took the long way home” by extending my own walk on Lido Beach. It seemed especially fitting to feel the sand give way under my feet—although the Hebrews didn’t have the benefit of my Orthaheel shoes as they trod the desert for 40 years.
As I walk, I flash back to the Passovers of my youth, at my grandparent’s house in Brooklyn. After dinner, slightly drunk on Manischewitz my older cousins Bobby and Barry would let me tag along with them for a walk along the dark, silent city streets. I seem to recall ending up at Ebbets Field.
Time may march on, but the longing for “home” not only remains, but grows stronger with the years. This much I know.
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