I am late for the Rosh Hashanah / New Year train; my life is overfull, but I press on, with brevity to the max:
5787 Shana Tovah!
And then my free-associating mind excavates this passionate protestation:
I am not a number! I am a free man!
(from the 1967 British tv series The Prisoner)
Two more turns of the associative screw: I have had female friends named Tovah and also Shana (Shana with accented vowel [e], rather than [a]).
September 15, 2026 at 4:38 pm |
That giant white balloon still scares me. Oh, 415-652-4474. Shana Tova!
September 15, 2026 at 6:44 pm |
😀😀😀