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The Anti-Defamation League has called on an Indian television network to change the name of a new soap opera with Hitler in the title.
This is not just a Jewish phenomenon, though a few thousand years of expecting to be scapegoated, persecuted, exiled or killed certainly contributes to the melancholic gene Jews are known for carrying, the optimism of a Ben-Gurion or Sandy Koufax notwithstanding.
Squeaky clean soap opera characters? Bland. Bed-hopping, social-ladder-climbing, gorgeous Jewish character coming clean for Yom Kippur? Spicy!
I'm seeing someone. Let's call her Alison. We're dating. We're in that very gray area between being total strangers and celebrating our silver wedding anniversary. Three months into it and people are already asking when we're getting married. At this point, we're cautiously optimistic, still prefacing all our plans with the phrase: "If you're still speaking with me," as in: "If you're still speaking with me in two weeks, would you like to go to the theater on Thursday night?"
If we're still speaking on Sunday at 9 p.m., you will generally find us parked in front of the television set watching "Sex and the City."
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