I love Christmas. I even have a Santa Claus suit. As a self-proclaimed Christmas and Easter Jew from Beverly Hills, every Christmas Eve all 6 ‘4 and 230 pounds of me climbs into a red suit and white beard, with sleigh bells and a giant toy bag in tow. My daughters love it. But I love it most of all. I am also the son of a Holocaust survivor. But I never knew real antisemitism other than my dad’s stories around the dinner table. Even with a last name that evokes the largest group of diaspora Jews, nothing felt wrong...