The High Holidays are coming with their attendant dilemma. For me, this is not about choosing a seat, or about choosing a building, but about choosing a shul. Though I live in a neighborhood having a multitude of choices, none are satisfactory.
My ideal High Holiday prayer service is the one I attended as a small boy. I think most men feel this way, and like most men, I'm certain my memory of that service has been corrupted by time. But never mind. Today, that memory - the memory of a superbly-talented chazzan, in a magnificent room, leading a congregation of hundreds in prayer and song - is my ideal example of a Holiday service. There's nothing like it where I live.
In the next three posts, I discuss the shortcomings of each of the local options.