Brookwrite

High Holy Days -- in 700 words

The High Holy Days are about two things: Long services, and longer lists -- about tense subjects... past and future.

We recount the things we've done wrong, and wish well upon ourselves. Ironically, we don't say anything about the things we have done or will do right.

As your mind wanders during services, ponder that as well as the following...

We have sinned against you by letting our minds wander during services.

We have sinned against you by texting while driving.

We have sinned against you by splashing while diving.

We have sinned against you by not rinsing the pans.

We have sinned against you by being Y*nkees fans.

We have sinned against you by deciding some are stupid because of their politics.

We have sinned against you by assuming some are smart because of their politics.

We have sinned against you by lacking remorse.

We have sinned against you by forgetting the code of Morse.

We have sinned against you by ignoring all the signs.

We have sinned against you by using near rhymes.

We have sinned against you by not reading what's on our shelves.

We have sinned against you by sinning against ourselves.

We have sinned against you by not knowing how to dial rotary phones.

We have sinned against you, now with flying drones.

We have sinned against you by loudly not taking Hall's.

We have sinned against you by not ignoring robocalls.

We have sinned against you by not bringing a World Series championship to Chicago's North Side, again.

We have sinned against you through excessive screen time and scream time.

We have sinned against you by texting or talking during the play, film, or service.

We have sinned against you by being patronizing (which means talking down to).

We have sinned against you by not understanding.

We have sinned against you by not staying standing.

We have sinned against you by not stealing second.

We have sinned against you by going for seconds.

We have sinned against you by settling for second.

We have sinned against you by wasting thousands of seconds.

And, now, lest we forget the future...

May your mind wander during services, to new places of enlightenment.

May your home be without leaks, and your confidences not leaked.

May your only race controversy be a photo finish in the 200-meter dash.

May your stock rise, your stock portfolio go up, and your stockings stay up.

May you find your tall ship, and a star to steer her by.

May you not be accused of ascribing gender roles based on your use of pronouns for inanimate objects.

May you get tickets to Hamilton.

After spending all that money to see it, may you get Hamilton.

May you reach your second star to the right sooner than morning.

May your skies be blue, your traffic lights green, and your last banana still yellow.

May your expenses be reduced, starting with laughter at your expense.

Instead of writing long letters, may you have the time to write short ones instead.

May your government actually be here to help.

May you sing in key, never lose your keys, and find the keys to your success.

May your flights be on time, your legroom sufficient, and the child in front of you unconscious.

May your grass grow greener without making others green with envy.

May the drivers in front of you signal lane changes. In advance.

May your procedures be legal, your starts not be false, and groundings unintentional.

May your profits grow, and your time to read the prophets increase.

May your only losses this year be only a loss for words.

May you be responsible with your social media, and the media be socially responsible.

May you appreciate and preserve the past without being stuck in it.

May your May be lusty, your June bust out all over, and April come. (She will.)

May your team win the national championship, as long as that team is Alabama.

Doug Brook sinned against you by promising 700 words and delivering only 697. Until these three. To read these or any other past columns, visit http://brookwrite.com/. For exclusive online content, like facebook.com/the.beholders.eye.