Get Your Eyes Off My Plate
Back when Anna used to complain about agressive candy pushing at her old office, I would tell her that men don't comment on what other men are eating. And this is basically true, although they do sometimes eye curiously. I have felt self-conscious on my last two trips to baseball pressbox, given that the two meals, a deli platter and breakfast burritos, all involved bread products. Today I received stares as I unwrapped my tortilla and ate delicious eggs and sausage out of the middle of my burrito. No one said anything, but they were thinking it.
Passover and I have had an interesting relationship since college ended. When we lived in Hobbs, I made a concerted effort to keep Passover. In truth, I couldn't possibly have made less of an effort before, seeing as though until I met some frummy (read Reform) Jews at school, I had no idea that Passover was something people kept for any length of time. I just thought it was two dinners without bread or pasta.
My inclination, however, is not matched by a passionate devotion to the rules. In fact, I've basically made up my own. I stay away from obvious things. But in cases like potato chips, where some brands may be acceptable, I eat whatever is available. My non-kosher eating doesn't stop either. As I explained to one of the press box workers last year around this time, "I'm the sort of Jew who will ham during Passover, but not bread."
"What's that called?" he asked, probably expecting some sort of Hebrew word.
"A bad Jew," I answered.
Passover and I have had an interesting relationship since college ended. When we lived in Hobbs, I made a concerted effort to keep Passover. In truth, I couldn't possibly have made less of an effort before, seeing as though until I met some frummy (read Reform) Jews at school, I had no idea that Passover was something people kept for any length of time. I just thought it was two dinners without bread or pasta.
My inclination, however, is not matched by a passionate devotion to the rules. In fact, I've basically made up my own. I stay away from obvious things. But in cases like potato chips, where some brands may be acceptable, I eat whatever is available. My non-kosher eating doesn't stop either. As I explained to one of the press box workers last year around this time, "I'm the sort of Jew who will ham during Passover, but not bread."
"What's that called?" he asked, probably expecting some sort of Hebrew word.
"A bad Jew," I answered.
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