I have lots of friends that are baalei teshuvah.  This means they did not grow up Orthodox, but accepted a mitzvah-observant lifestyle in their teen or adult years.

I find it interesting to hear what they miss.  There are plenty of things they don’t miss – although this varies greatly from one person to the next.  Some don’t even want to think about their previous lives, while others look back with nostalgia.

One of my friends has a thing for cheeseburgers.  She seriously misses McDonald’s, Burger King – you name it.  While in Israel, the thrill of the chase for a kosher “cheese”burger is a treasured time.  Others miss the social opportunities, the clothing they no longer wear (and are possibly still hanging in the closet), or the ability to eat anywhere.

I’m not a baalas teshuvah.  I grew up observant.  But there are some things I did take on voluntarily in my adult life.  One of them is cholov yisrael.  Literally, it means “Jewish milk.”  Here’s the background: truly, all milk that comes from a kosher animal (cow, goat) is by definition kosher.  But back in the day, there was a temptation by some dairy farms to dilute their kosher milk with non-kosher milk (pig’s, for example) to save a buck.  Therefore, a rabbinic ordinance was instituted to only drink milk that was milked under Jewish supervision, to make sure no hanky-panky took place.  This milk was called “cholov yisrael.”

When Jews began arriving en masse to the USA, the facts changed.  The USDA regulated milking, and it was a crime to dilute the milk with other forms.  Therefore, it was as though the government was supervising the milking, and all USDA milk was considered kosher and usable.  However, some chose the extra stringency of cholov yisrael anyway, to maintain the custom.  The larger the Jewish commnity, the easier it is to obtain cholov yisrael dairy products.

My husband and I both grew up using plain old dairy products.  When we got engaged and planned to move to Israel, we decided to accept upon ourselves the extra restriction of cholov yisrael.  (In Israel, all the dairy is cholov yisrael… but then we moved to Buffalo Grove, Illinois.)  Practically speaking, what this meant for me was NO MORE REESE’S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS.  Now, this is a big deal.

When I go to the store and see them, I miss them.  In the airport, they talk to me.  At the BP store on a road trip, my mouth waters for them.  But I have never, ever craved a cheeseburger.

Interesting, no?

What’s your experience?

So that kippah thing that guys wear?  It has a coupla names.

• “Kippah” is Hebrew.  It means “covering.”  Easy enough.  
• “Yarmulke” is Yiddish, derived from the two Aramaic words “yarei d’malka” which means “reverence for the King” – like, you wear it to demonstrate that there’s someone above you.  Like as in Someone, like as in God.  This explains why guys are supposed to wear one – they are less likely to get that there is a God above.  More likely to believe that they are God’s gift to humanity – or God himself.
• Epithets such as “beanie,” “Jew-hat” etc.  Fill in your own.  When you or your kid walk around in public with the thing on, you get some interesting comments!

So some people wear them full-time, and some wear them part-time, and some wear them for religious experiences only.  Here are 5 excellent reasons to don the thing.

1. To cover your bald spot.  Interestingly, some men’s yarmulkes (I shall defer to this name as it’s the one I’m most used to) grow as their hair shrinks.  Draw your own conclusions.
2. As an act of solidarity with men who have bald spots.  YOUR hair may be thick and the object of envy, but you don the yarmulke to show support to those friends of yours who have not much hair.  Who really has a bald spot?  Only your hairdresser knows for sure.
3. Nervous habit.  Much more pleasant than biting your nails or clearing your throat, adjusting your yarmulke is the perfect nervous habit.  Whether you’re twisting it on your head (??), moving it higher, lower, or somewhere else entirely, just make sure you don’t give away what’s under it (see #2).  This works particularly well at uncomfortable meetings and while public speaking.
4. Religious affiliation.  Your yarmulke declares where on the Ortho-spectrum you fall.  Black velvet?  Yeshivish.  White knit?  Modern-Orthodox/Religous Zionist.  Browns football motif?  Hmmm.  Not sure.  In any case, it’s a quick and easy way to avoid a theological conversation surrounding where your sympathies lie. Conversely, you can use this to keep ’em guessing.  One day wear one variety, and next another.  Show your open-mindedness. 
5. Family ties.  Trying to get into Uncle Louie’s good graces?  Wear the green one from his kid Joey’s bar mitzvah.  Planning on asking great grandma for a loan for your new business venture?  Wear the pink one from her wedding.  Tip: pretend you didn’t realize you were wearing it.