Woke up this morning to gushing water in our front yard. Happy Sunday! The short version: our main water line needs to be replaced. Just had a plumber out here to take a look. A really nice young man. He talked me through the job in a soft spoken and friendly way. I had a good feeling and was relieved that it won’t cost an arm and a leg. When entering my details on his iPad, he asked about my last name. I told him most people thought it was Greek but that it’s actually Hebrew. He said he would’ve guessed Hebrew. I was surprised. From last names to first names. He thought Micah was connected to Malachi, which it isn’t. Malachi means “my angel” doesn’t it? Yes, it does. But Micah means something different. He was pretty surprised by my knowledge of Hebrew Bible and excited when I explained that I came by it honestly. When I told him I was a rabbi he wanted to shake my hand again. Of course we started talking about Jerusalem. A pilgrimage! He said he’s saving his money so he can do that too. In fact, he hopes to become a priest one day. Not like one of those preachers you see on TV, but someone who feels called to help others. Live a good life, love people regardless of race, gender, or differences. Stuff like that. Anyway, I’ve taken up too much of your time so I’ll be on my way, he says. He’ll be coming back tomorrow to do the job. After all, the bid was reasonable and the company gets good reviews online.