It is called the Arena because its floor was covered with harena, the Latin word for sand. Back in the day, the morning show would be men, often prisoners, fighting wild animals—you know, lions and tigers and bears, which were captured and shipped to Verona to entertain the crowd. I don’t know which contestant had the greater odds of seeing the afternoon, but I would bet the animals had the advantage.

Aunt Phyllis told us a funny story about her cousin Roberta, who travelled to Europe by ocean liner shortly after World War II for a summer adventure in Europe. As was the custom back then, the family went down to the pier to bid Roberta bon voyage. Now, some eighty years later travel seems so ordinary and everyone is too busy to venture down to the docks to wave at passing ships. Forty years before Roberta set sail, their grandmother came to America as a young bride. She shook her head quizzically and declared, “I cannot imagine why on earth anyone would want to travel back to Europe.” 

My friend asked me, “What’s a Jew to do?” 

I wrote back. “It’s a little complicated.”