By the end of 1989, I determined to convert to Judaism, but I was not sure which denomination to choose.
My hero Dennis Prager was non-denominational. He went to all types of synagogues. I decided to be like that.
As I kept studying Judaism, I often felt most comfortable with the theoretical underpinnings of Conservative Judaism.
In 1991, I began awkwardly reaching out to synagogues in Sacramento. A few hours before Rosh Hashanah, I called the Conservative synagogue Mosaic Law at 2300 Sierra Boulevard in downtown Sacramento. Rabbi Moses picked up.
“I want to convert to Judaism and I have a moral dilemma,” I said. “I know the Torah says that if you take a woman’s virginity, you must marry her. Anyway, I had this girlfriend at UCLA and now I’m too sick to be in school and I feel guilty for staying in touch with this girl because I know I don’t want to marry her.”
“You have to let her go,” said the rabbi.
I thanked him. I repeated that I wanted to convert to Judaism but I was too sick to leave the house. “I don’t have the time to drive up to instruct you,” said the rabbi.
I thanked him again and hung up. Then I cut off all relations with my ex-girlfriend for about two years until I found out that she had another boyfriend. That made me feel like it was OK to talk to her occasionally.
In August of 1993, I moved to Orlando, where my live-in girlfriend took me to her psychiatrist who got me on the medication Nardil which brought me a two-thirds recovery to normal life.
I met Dennis Prager in Tampa Bay on Super Bowl weekend in 1994 and he said if I was in LA, he might have work for me.
I flew back to Sacramento on March 24, 1994, to stay with my step-mother. My dad was gone a speaking trip.
On Shabbos morning, March 26, I caught a ride to the Mosaic Law Congregation with my friend Noel, a goy and former Seventh-Day Adventist pastor.
A few years before when I’d told Noel that I was becoming Jewish, he said, “Whoa, there are many different types of Judaism.”
Noel had never been to a shul.
I found Jewish services difficult to get through. I was able to do it at my Conservative shul in Orlando, Ohev Shalom, because I loved the rabbi, the cantor and many people in the temple.
Now I was on strange turf and the three hour service was a chore. My friend Noel was struggling too.
After the service, however, I got to talk to Rabbi Moses. He remembered me as the intense and confused young man from more than two years past.
He smiled at me. He didn’t hold my extremism against me.
I found people in the shul friendly. There was a kiddush lunch, where I started chatting with a tall attractive brunette about 18 years of age. I felt her beauty and youth and intelligence were promises of great things ahead for me. Despite our age difference, we were at a similar place in life, about to begin a major transition to adulthood far from home.
I got her contact info and wrote to her once or twice. She mailed me back, including a photo.
Unlike many of my friends, I’ve never had a problem finding Jewish women attractive. I don’t find them sexually cold and I don’t find them overly materialistic. After all, if they’re going out with me, they’re not obsessed with money.
When I moved in 2011, I went through my stuff and found the picture of this Mosaic Law girl. After a few seconds of remembering, I threw it away. She could be a grandma by now.
I was so excited to restart my life that sunny Shabbos March 26, 1994. I felt a part of the Jewish people. I’d walked into a strange shul and people had welcomed me. Most importantly, a beautiful woman had shown an interest in me.
Five days later, I moved permanently to Los Angeles.
The first synagogue service I went to down south was at the Conservative Adat Shalom shul in Westwood.
Even though I’m now Orthodox, I can look back and see that Conservative Judaism was very very good to me.
A few years ago on a Friday night, I ran into an Orthodox friend on Pico and Sherbourne. He said he was going to dinner at Beth Am (Conservative). I raised my eyebrows.
“You know what they say about Conservative Jews, don’t you?” he said.
I shook my head.
“They do it before marriage.”
