I feel like this blog has gotten away from me a bit.
Looking back a bit, recent posts seem to me less personal, and less fully thought out, and less… interesting to me.
8 out of the past 10 are classes, articles or translations of sources. Torah, certainly. Addressing significant issues, generally. But not what I wanted to so dominate this piece of the blogscape.
I'm not sure when or why this happened.
I suspect it was around the time I noticed people mentioning my blog when introducing a shiur of mine.
Or maybe it was after the nth time I was told I was meant to be a role model for the Yeshiva University / Dati Leumi / Modern Orthodox / Centrist community.
Or maybe it was when I was asked how I can write so much without getting myself into trouble.
Or maybe it was just when I got so caught up in work that I couldn't spare ten creative minutes to put together an interesting post about anything other than whatever shiur I was working on at the moment.
I don't know why it happened, but I don't like it. I enjoyed this more when I could comfortably post on the offer of a Borsalino hat vs a Shas at my Bar Mitzvah, or offer a link to Denis Leary ragging on Mel Gibson for his Anti-Semitism, or present thoughts on Alan Alda's autobiography.
So in a tribute to more carefree days of the past and to demonstrate that I have not yet become a machine, here are five non-"Rosh" things I did in the past month:
* Bought a lot of plants with pink flowers for my Rebbetzin's birthday, and put all of them in the ground during a terrific rainstorm. [How many is "a lot"? If she were turning 21, there would have been 21 of them. If she were turning 25, it would be 25. The right answer is somewhere north of that.]
* Read approximately 300 articles about the NBA playoffs, mostly focussing on LeBron James and how this is his year or is not his year. The man's life is so 21st century American Shakespeare.
* Tried to show my kids the Venus transit with a pinhole camera [fashioned by the Rebbetzin, of course]. We did get an image of the sun on a piece of paper, but Venus was a no-show.
* As part of screening reading material for my kids, I speed-read the Hunger Games trilogy. Books 1 and 2 were entertaining enough that I wanted to turn the page and read on. Book 3 seemed like it was the book the author had wanted to write all along, but it also seemed like the book no one [myself included] would want to read.
Hm. That's only four, but it's all the "personal time" I can recall.
Maybe that's part of the problem?