Like Jake Tapper, I'm still writing 5770 on my checks.

Just a bit of home news here, before Kol Nidre. One of the many reasons I love my synagogue, Adas Israel, is that the clergy (including our blogging rabbi) believes in incorporating our children into the services. The senior-most of the junior Goldblogs read Torah at Rosh Hashanah -- beautifully, I have to say, in front of hundreds of people.  I can't think of a greater pleasure on earth than the sound of your child reading from the Torah. Mrs. Goldblog also read beautifully, and I'm extremely proud of her as well. Goldblog himself did not read from the Torah, because Goldblog did not adequately prepare. I blame Fidel Castro, and his summons to Havana, for taking up time I would otherwise have devoted to Torah study.  When in doubt, blame the Communists.

Another reason I love my synagogue is that our first-chair shofar-blower, Jennie Litvack, was a trumpet student of Dizzy Gillespie's. Jennie, who is a dear friend of Goldblog, and a World Bank economist by day, plays -- I mean, actually plays -- the shofar like no one I've ever heard. If you close your eyes when she sounds the shofar, you feel like you are on Mt. Sinai. Last year, NPR featured her shofar-blowing; you can listen to it here.

One other Y1K note: My friend Felicia Herman, who runs the indispensable Natan Foundation, sent around an e-mail to her board members to remind us that our souls are in peril (She does this even when it's not Yom Kippur, by the way). "Three books are opened in heaven on Rosh Hashanah," she wrote. "One for the wicked (who are inscribed in the book of death), one for the righteous (who are inscribed in the book of life), and one for those in between, whose fate is sealed on Yom Kippur. During the 10 days, acts of prayer, repentance, and charity are said to be able to avert the severe decree."

I guess what i'm saying here is that Goldblog readers of the Mosaic persuasion have a few more hours to repent, and give charity, before the gates close. So get off the Interwebs before it's too late.

We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters@theatlantic.com.