Temple Dress Code: Questionable

On Rosh Hashanah it is written that the SJG shall dress up a little nicer than usual, but not too nice, because, let's face it, my temple includes "Dress Code: Questionable" on the ticket. I can't begin to describe some of the fashion violations and schlumpy outfits I've seen at shul. Not that I judge. For when I judge, I must atone, and I've scheduled that in for next week. I will, however, refer you to that time a few years back when I whispered to the lady in front of me, "Your price tag is showing." The look she gave me, like it was my fault. That's the last time I do a style mitzvah in temple, where clearly, the high holiday trends lean toward anything goes. It pretty much comes down to wear something. Mainly, they just want you to show up. And show some ID. The times we live in are iffy, if you hadn't noticed. So show your ID and your ticket and come on in. In my case, violins please, this means alone. Don't cry for me, my fellow Americans. I'm not alone very long. I always find an empty seat that's no longer being saved for someone who's not going to show up, anyway. I sit down and immediately begin praying that no one near me is contagious or a non-stop talker. On this count, my prayers are rarely answered. There's always someone coughing or sneezing or whispering or doing all three at once. Next time someone updates the Torah, maybe they'll throw in a new caveat: "Enough with the weird noises in temple. It annoys the SJG." I know, I know, the chances of an updated Torah that caters to my needs aren't great. On Rosh Hashanah, a gal can dream. And on Yom Kippur, she can atone for the afore-mentioned dream.