Back from Florida, and Grandpa’s (headstone) unveiling ceremony. Hard to believe it’s been a year since he’s been gone.

The good news was that instead of the incompetent-beyond-belief rabbi we had last time, my little sister the proto-rabbi took the reins. She did an awesome job. I asked her where she had gotten the various elements for the ceremony — the songs and prayers, that sort of thing — and she said that she had simply consulted the “magic rabbi book”. No, not the Torah. Apparently there is a recently-written book of poems and songs and prayers with clearly delineated recommendations for usage in various situations, and every modern rabbi has a copy. Seems kind of like cheating to me. On the other hand, the ceremony my sister put together was short and to the point. So I don’t think anyone can argue that she doesn’t have killer rabbinical instincts.

Anyway, the flight back was uneventful, although I did have to wake up at 1:30am PST to catch it. I even made my weekly poker game that evening. The guys didn’t even know I had been gone. “You were where this morning?” they asked. That’s right — I’ll travel 3000 miles just to play poker. Although to be honest, I dont recommend travelling 3000 miles to play poker to the public in general. Nor do I recommend playing poker on three hours of fitful sleep. (A corollary to this rule: when your opponent is showing for a full house, don’t try to bluff him out when you’re showing for a straight — even if you “know” that he doesn’t have the full house. Because if you’re jetlagged, you can rest assured he does have the full house… if not a four-of-a-kind.)