I also had to overcome the undertow of religion, in the persons of my mother and the rabbis and rebbetsens she enlisted, trying to sweep me out to sea where I would drown. 
No high has ever quite equaled that first time I took the Seventh Avenue subway uptown and got off in the general exodus at 116th Street, my promised land. 
And Fruma, whose name <tag "515673">derives</> from the Yiddish-German frum, for pious, was there with me at the time of my conversion, sometimes arguing the other side but usually ending up agreeing with me.   

