You know you’re mainstream when…

by Decemberbaby

… you get a police RIDE (Report Impaired Drivers Everywhere) checkpoint on Bathurst Street on erev purim.

For those who don’t know, purim is a fabulously fun holiday that includes costumes, delivering treats to family and friends, and a religious obligation for all adults to get seriously drunk. It’s a crazy, carnival-like atmosphere that is awesome as long as you don’t try to operate heavy machinery.

According to my parents’ next-door-neighbour, some of the Toronto rabbis requested that the police set up a RIDE program. It was (apparently) announced in synagogues in order to discourage anyone stupid enough to drive home after imbibing a whole bottle of schnapps.

Hats (or kippot) off to those rabbis, for having the foresight and the guts to arrange this!

Advertisements

One Comment to “You know you’re mainstream when…”

  1. Hi, Sara. I have happened on your blog from Pink and Blue and I am so impressed with you and your handiwork. Well done you! As someone who can barely put together an Ikea nightstand I bow down to you! I wanted to tell you a funny story about the RIDE program, my mom, who is a very proper British lady, and Erev Pesach. When I was much younger, we used to regularly do the seders at my aunt and uncle’s house. They are very observant and the seders would go until midnight or later. My sisters and I loved going; it was so much fun to be out so late at night and play with our cousins far past our bedtimes. On our way home one night, we were stopped by RIDE as we got onto the highway at Yonge Street. Looking into the car, the policeman saw my lovely, proper British mother driving a station wagon with three drowsy little girls in the back. He asked my mum if she’d had anything to drink that night, and she cheerily informed him that yes, she’d had 4 glasses of wine (in reality, they were actually grape juice, but my mum is honest to a fault and we referred to anything in those cups as wine). The officer waved her along on her merry way. I don’t think he even realized what she said until we were long gone! Needless to say, the story lives on in family lore.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: