Mach a Bracha

Until now, I have been somewhat out of the Jewish music loop. But when one's baby demands music, all the time, and Elmo is the devil incarnate (his cackling laugh, shiver), one becomes reacquainted rather quickly. 

My sappy hormones haven't tapered off yet, so I find myself clutching Ben and sniffling to "Ivri Anochi" ("It's so bee-yoo-tee-ful, waaaaah!")

But one of the videos that popped up in my YouTube viewing---"Mach a Bracha" by Shmueli Ungar---has given me food for thought (pun intended). 

For one thing, the video, in my opinion, is particularly well done, which is hard for a Jewish music video (we definitely have more limited budgets than the last "Idol" winner, let's not kid ourselves). 

Secondly, it's the message . . . 

Ma used to say, "Mach a bracha" when she would place a bowl of deliciousness on the table. 

Her father, my Zeidy, used to get upset by the standard Shabbos kiddush. People are standing around, he would note, barely keeping track of what they ate—was the right bracha said? Did they say a nuch bracha? 

A number of years ago, we were in a different shul for Shabbos for a simcha. Whilst at the kiddush, a teenage girl stopped next to us, seemingly looking at the wall. We turned, and noticed she was diligently saying "al hamichya" off of a beautiful glass display. 

Ma was so inspired by this, remembering her father's pet peeve, that she decided to have a similar one made for our shul. 

I'll be honest: Ben doesn't really let me daven (he always wakes up when I try to) and my regular nuch brachas have suffered as well. This video reminded me about the importance of brachas, how the one we recite once a year is no more exalted than the ones we make every day, the shahakols, asheir yatzars, al hamichyas.  

The beginning scene, where he's about to eat a mundane bowl of Rice Krispies, is an ideal example of how we use our brachas to turn all we do, even the most profane, into a great act of service. 

How the Other 99.9% Dates

Han doesn't have many Jewish co-workers. If they are Jewish, then chances are they aren't frum. 

It's a very friendly sort of office, the type where everyone sits down chummily for lunch and shares the details of their lives. 

One fellow, Adam, was relating to Han how he struggles with dating. He missed the boat, he said wryly, by not cultivating a girlfriend in college. Because outside of that setting, he can't seem to meet a special someone. 

To go to a bar, he explains, he would require a "wingman," as a lone man approaching women is considered creepy. All of his friends are in relationships, so no one is available to provide that service. The same creepiness factor is present in exercise classes. Dating apps are geared for women, and he hasn't had any success with them.  

Another co-worker, Sheri, is so gorgeous I have a crush on her. She's fit, beautiful, and has a dazzling smile. She keeps three dresses in her cubicle for her dates, often provided by app. She has to meet these guys, however, at a public location as they definitely cannot know where she lives until they have been vetted. But for all her awesomeness she's also struggling to find a partner. 

There's also a quirky fellow in the office. He has been an amazingly helpful friend to Han, but he's, well, as I said, quirky. However, he is engaged now, and you know how they met? 

A co-worker set them up. Meaning, a shidduch date. 

I have read in multiple frum publications and blogs how the shidduch system sucks, that if we could socialize organically we'd be better off, like how the gentiles roll. I have heard it said that "If I wasn't frum, I'd be married by now." But here's the thing: the frei and the non-Jews aren't meeting organically either. A lot of them have dating difficulties, and others are being set up by friends or family. 

I think that the shidduch system, as it is currently practiced, could use a few updated tweaks. I was forwarded a video by Toby Lieder, who suggested that instead of the bland and essentially uninformative paper profile, we start instead with the "talking profile," a video where the person's personality can be visibly conveyed. I like the idea in theory, although I would have been too chicken to do it. 

But these emailed profiles just aren't cutting it. Technology has made our world so much bigger, when once shadchaning was restricted to one's own social circle. Now suggestions are being summoned from all over the globe, from every hashkafa, and one cannot physically go out with all of them before suffering mental and physical collapse. They have to be more targeted. It should not be acceptable to call others "too picky" just because they did not consider a suggestion on point. 

Where was I? Oh, yes. Gentiles don't have it easier. That was my point. Dating, in general, sucks.