Bizarre Rosh HaShana Observations

I have always enjoyed spending Rosh HaShana with my parents in the (semi) suburban enclave where I grew up, but with my relatively new focus on all things blogworthy (i.e. obsessive attention to strange details), I noticed some 'interesting' things.

First, what is up with old ladies freaking out if someone sits in their designated seat? It just so happened there were many other free seats in the immediate surrounding area. I understand the need to have a place to park your tush, but there is enough to go around. Why is there a fight every year?

Second, what is up with men my father's age (i.e. him and his friends) becoming sillier with age? I think this is a great development, but it was hilarious and quite odd to go to lunch at my parents' friends' house and hear the 'patriarch' go on and on in hysterics about a guy who projectile vomited in shul a few weeks ago. His exasperated daughter explained that he has been talking about this ever since. It's the type of thing my father would fixate on, and when brought up at the table, would cause the rest of my family to look at each other, laugh and tell my father he is like George from Seinfeld (while my father snickered). I think this is completely lovable, but I guess it proves that all men are babies.

Third, what is up with the nitpicking regarding the speech, and really, any action taken by the shul Rabbi? I heard many in-depth analyses of his speech (i.e. it would have been perfect if 10 minutes had been shaved off, it was perfect, he is too emotional and shows qualities of a girly-man when using his voice to convey a dramatic point, etc. etc.). I thought his speech was quite good and didn't object to any of his wardrobe/diction choices. (Although I must admit I spaced out for some of his speech; not his fault, this happens in all speeches.) I know this is endemic to all Jewish congregations, but seriously, it's a little weird.

Finally, since I only read The New York Post at my parents' house, what is up with the paper's obsession with the word 'perv'? My favorite article over the weekend discussed disgraced former NJ Governor McGreevy's stint at rehab to address his addictive need for adoration. The article painted a picture of how he clutched a Kermit the Frog doll that represented/personified ('animalified'?) his need for attention. It didn't make much sense, but it was quite humorous. I love Kermie, although I think that perv McGreevy should get his hands off of him.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to play with the 10,000 Nerf footballs and half-deflated basketballs that no one ever looks at in my parents' basement, but there is always Sukkot.