Where I grew up, Jews don’t hide. There’s no reason to. In the more-is-more ’80s, Jews in my neighborhood were rich and powerful and masters of, if not the universe, then of a small Judeo slice of Long Island. I did not grow up knowing the self-effacing Woody Allen Jew. I didn’t know it’s customary to chuckle when “Jewish” and “athlete” are used in the same sentence. Other than my parents, I didn’t even know liberal Jews. Jews where I lived had no inferiority complex.
New Yorkers are a proud bunch. Our city is the best! Well, except for the weather. At least lately. This weather can suck a big bag of...well, you know. New Yorkers are dealing with the dreary, windy, wet, sticky weather as only we can: grudgingly.
Photo: Shutterstock Hey, guys. I recently ranted in Time Out about the scourge of hugging overtaking NYC. Don't get me wrong: Hugs are nice. It's just, we've gotten a little loosey-goosey with them. There's a time for hugging and a time for kissing, and I don't personally think we're doing enough of the latter.