At the end of the evening, when Rudnick found himself surrounded by people thanking him for the great night, asking when he would host another, he realized he'd tapped into something big. The crowd's enthusiasm — combined with the fact that he earned nearly as much in tips in one night as he made in a year's salary — convinced him to quit his job two weeks later to devote himself to starting the Society of Young Jewish Professionals. Today, the Matzo Ball that started it all takes place in two dozen cities. "It's taken on a life of its own," says Rudnick. "We don't really have to advertise anymore."
But the Matzo Ball now has plenty of competition. In some cities, December 24 has become a veritable battle of the balls, each promising the best party in town. One of the better-known contenders is, in fact, called simply the Ball, sponsored by the New York–based letmypeoplego.com, which claims to have put on the nation's biggest Jewish singles event each year since the Ball got its start in 1995 — last season's party drew a crowd in excess of 4300. Founder Jeff Strank has put his own spin on the new holiday tradition.
"I'd hate to do something where it's just people walking in and there's a DJ and that's all it is," says Strank, who strives to create environments that ensure his attendees always have "different things to see and do, different ways to interact."
At the Ball's very first event, Strank transformed the VIP room into a comedy club, showcasing performances from the likes of Susie Essman, who's since gained fame on Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Jeff Ross, now Roastmaster General of the New York Friars' Club. (Strank still cringes when he recalls a less-prescient booking decision a couple years later, when he lined up and then cancelled a performance by Jon Stewart after asking around and finding that "nobody had heard of him.")
In more recent years, the Ball has sprawled across five or six venues within NYC, with complimentary limousine service shuttling attendees from one soirûe to the next. At last year's event, one site featured a live band, another a cozier lounge feel, and three others offered dancing for various musical tastes — at one, the dancers got down to the accompaniment of high-flying aerialists, who contorted and cavorted above the crowd's heads. This year promises to be an even bigger, as Strank is attempting to expand by staging the event in 22 cities, including Boston.
Besides such multi-city megafests, there are a host of homegrown events operating on an exclusively local basis, like LA's Schmooz-a-Palooza, the Eve Party in Miami Beach, and Boston's own JBall. That annual shindig is hosted by The JConnection, a social organization for young Jewish professionals and students that sponsors several trips each year, as well as monthly events at bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. In recent years it has begun events for the 40-plus set, too.
Now in its ninth year, the JBall offers a more intimate experience than some of its counterparts, with about 500 attendees annually, but founder Jeff Popkin thinks his slightly smaller ball brings a bigger payoff.
"A lot of people go to other events once and realize that the music is so loud that they can't talk to people and it's just not a fun social atmosphere, [but] that's what we really focus on and work to achieve," he says. This year's JBall is presented in partnership with online-dating giant JDate, and though Popkin notes, "With the Internet and all the online-dating opportunities, there are lots of options out there," he stresses that "still, nothing beats people-meeting in person."
Popkin should know — he met his wife at the 2005 JBall. Rudnick similarly counts his marriage among the more than 1000 that the Matzo Ball claims to its credit. Indeed, some events have a reputation for being kosher meat markets, and more than one well-meaning mom has bought advance tickets for her unsuspecting single offspring. Today, you no longer see many mothers sitting shiva for a child who has fallen for a goy, but subtle encouragement to find a Jewish partner isn't entirely uncommon. Almost half of American Jews marrying today wed gentiles, and only one-third of the children produced in these interfaith marriages are raised Jewish — though the Boston area bucks that trend a bit; a 2005 study by Brandeis's Steinhardt Social Research Institute found that 60 percent of such children in Greater Boston are brought up Jewish. So new traditions have arisen to take over the role of the shadchan, from sites like JDate, to speed dating (first conceived by a rabbi back in 1998), to the Christmas Eve balls.
Not up for a mating dance? That's okay too. Christmas Eve get-togethers have become a yearly tradition for many, a way of catching up with old friends from high school and camp, and an opportunity to forge platonic and professional connections, as well as amorous ones. Though the crowd is obviously predominantly Jewish (if skewing to the less observant end of the spectrum), non-Jews are welcome to attend, and often do.
"The event has really become a party on Christmas Eve for people who are not with their family," says Rudnick." So if in a few weeks you're looking for a way to stave off the seasonal affective disorder, take comfort in knowing you have a perfect excuse to get your drunk on and dance on a date once declared dead of nightlife, now resuscitated.
Jacqueline Houton wants her mother to know she expects to spend Christmas Eve doing anything but ordering Chinese or playing mahjong with the girls. She can be reached at jacqueline.houton@gmail.com.
