"I *don't* live here."

One of the funny things about being a congregational president is that most of my congregants seem to feel like I actually live at the synagogue. (A close second are the ones who act like it's my day job. Hint - it's not my day job.)

I live in Baltimore, Maryland, and my youngest is a freshman at Baltimore Polytechnic Institute (known as 'Poly') locally.

Baltimore - for those who aren't local - has a system called 'city-wide school choice' for middle and high schools. Students can apply for any middle school or high school in the city, and Poly is one of the best public high schools in Maryland (and frankly in the country), with a concentration on STEM. My son is very interested in pursuing a career in the space, and his maternal grandfather's an alum, so he was very motivated to apply there.

Poly is also a participant in "The Game", an annual game against their rivals at Baltimore City College High School (also an extremely good, academically competitive public high school), which is one of the longest-running football rivalries in the US. And because we live in a mostly-Christian country... high school football is on Saturdays. My wife and I think it's important for him to experience high school fully, so we planned to go to the game as a family.

BUT, none of the staff at the synagogue who know how to run the AV systems were available this morning. So I ran out to synagogue - in my blue jeans and navy blue shirt - just to make sure the live stream and sound system were working, and planned to come straight back so I could take the kids to the game.

And everyone was like, "Why are you dressed like that?" "Aren't you staying for services?" "What do you mean you're not staying?"

My dudes. Yes, I come to services most Shabbatot. But I also have a life away from the synagogue.

Though, honestly, I could've stuck it out a bit more at synagogue, because surely prayers would've avoided the lopsided shutout loss that the Poly Engineers suffered today.