Get Your Eyes Off My Plate
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.