Everyone loves a good story. From the early days of humans, people would gather around the cave and tell the tales of whatever was happening at that time: how they caught the food, how they discovered fire, the time someone ate bad Brontosaurus and they had horrible diarrhea. Everybody I know has a story - whether it be themselves or someone they know - where the punchline is, "And then I/he/she/ shit all over themselves." I would imagine the same thing was happening way back in the early days of human existence. Especially since they didn't have refrigerators.
The oldest story I know is the one that Jewish families tell every year during Passover. As a kid, every Passover my family would go to Grammie's house and partake in the Seder. It would be two nights a year and they were two of my least anticipated nights. We would show up hungry and then be unable to eat for a couple hours while we told a fucking story?! The same story every year?! Just bring me the gefelte fish and shut up. That's how it was every year. My dad would lead the story and we'd all take a paragraph here and there and re-tell this same stupid tale. Jews wandering in the desert. the ten plagues, the Pharoah wanting to kill the Jews, Moses parting the Red Sea, the sales clerk at JC Penney overcharging my Grandma on her new blouse. Same ol', same ol' every year.
Last night, my lovely Shiksa and I decided to host a small seder. We invited the family we have in L.A. that happened to be in town. One of my brothers and one of my cousins were going to "real" Seders so they couldn't join us. We made sure to have plenty of Passover food - Matzoh, Brisket, Gefelte Fish, Matzoh Ball soup, Potatoes, salad, Charoset, etc. The Charoset is an apple, cinnamon, Jew-y thing that you have every year. It's quite delicious but you're supposed to mix it with horseradish. I don't understand why you would spend time to make such a tasty dish and then ruin it with something disgusting. It's the equivalent of a bowl of Chocolate Ice Cream that you cover in boogers.
I was the "leader" of the Seder last night so I was able to tell people what parts to read. Being the leader also means I have to hide the Afikomen. The hiding of the Afikomen is always the most fun part of the Seder as a child. It's hidden at the beginning and after the meal, you search for it. The winner gets a whole dollar bill! Back then you could buy a burrito and a small Dr. Pepper at Taco Bueno. Nowadays, that dollar can get you a couple pieces of Juicy Fruit gum. As I was hiding it last night, it occurred to me that I won't be able to play the weird Jewish version of hide and seek with the rest of the group. At that moment, I realized my innocence had ended. I knew exactly what Don Henley was singing about in 1989.
We went through the Haggadah last night, each reading various segments. At a few points, everyone in unison is supposed to read bits of Hebrew. The first time we came to such a moment, the language was butchered worse than the cow we were about to eat for dinner. There were two horrible sounds that happened simultaneously. One was the horrific version of our mangled Hebrew, the other was the sound of my Grammie rolling over in her grave.
All in all, it was a pleasant evening. The Passover Seder gives you everything you expect to have in your life - family, food and the suffering of Jews - all that makes things right in the world.
Happy Passover!
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