Happy Passover

Last night (Wednesday) was 1^st Seder.

Instead of holding both at our house (in our usual style) we accepted an invitation to the home of a couple from our temple. Background: this family is at the same level of frum-eoisie as us -- Conservative; they have a son who was married within the last year (my parents were invited to the engagement party); they are rich; they don't seem to understand many social nuances. Hmm. This should be fun...

So who would be attending? I asked my mom during the 40-minute trip. Oh, just us three, two of our friends, a few people from temple, and the hosts' son and his new wife. I'm picturing 11, maybe 12 people. Okay, sounds doable.

We arrive. I gasp. The place was a McMansion. (I practically got lost leaving the bathroom.)

We see the dining table, or should I say, three dining tables, with many, many chairs. This dining room was the biggest I had ever seen in my life, in someone's real house (and I have been to some pretty fancy houses.) Though it was technically a dining room, it should be used as an artist's dream studio, due to light pouring in from the vast expanses of glass, and a lovely nature scene to look at when the artist in question needs a break. (I for one could have had at least 5 projects going at one time, with plenty of space to work with each one.) In addition to the 18-foot length of table, there were two sofas at the far end of the room, along with bookcases stuffed to the gills with interesting-looking books. That would be my space to take a quick regenerating nap before continuing my creating.

Anyway, I had steeled myself for the hosts' son and wife, in case they were adorable. I'm sure you can imagine my dismay when couple after couple arrived. Plus, they were all slightly younger than me. I was ready to hang myself. When I thought it couldn't get any worse, another couple waltzed in, this time with a brand new baby. Now I wanted to hang myself and shoot myself. But I sucked it up. All in all, there were 17 full-sized bodies (not counting the baby.)

In addition to rampant disorganization, the seder itself was very draggy, which was a disappointment. My family has a blast when we hold one, and we are typically wary of others. They are never as much fun as ours! We invite anyone we enjoy, whether they are Jewish or not. (It's good to do that, because newcomers always bring a different perspective.) We sing joyously, we carry on, we ask questions, we stay focused, and we are interested in what the leader has to say, because let's be realistic, many of us know the seder by heart. Tell me something I don't know about one of the plagues, or give me a new outlook on the four sons/children -- throw me a juicy tidbit that I can sink my intellectual teeth into. And my dad never disappoints. But this host did.

Long story short, we won't be going back. So sorry, but we gotta be free! (Isn't that what Passover is all about? Freedom?) At other seders, people can drone on and on, while we will have great fun discussing like the rabbis did in B'nei Brak. You want a real Seder? Talk to me. I'll show you how its done...