Passover 2003, Fountain Valley, California

Sam and I left SF at 5:30 or so, car stereo blasting Queen's Greatest Hits. The trip was long and uneventful. At about 11:30 we were both getting very tired and so after trying in vain to find a Taco Bell that was open late, we went to Denny's. The food was horrible. The people ar the booth next to us were very rowdy. The first thing I noticed about them when we walked by was that the biggest guy at the table was wearing a Johnny Knoxville t-shirt. I had to laugh -- what a homo. They all got up at once to pay and I got my first good look at them. The Knoxville guy had a tanned bimbo on one arm, but I could have sworn that the rest of the group -- all guys -- really were homos. The thing is, though, that in LA its incredbily hard to differentiate. When they passed by their filthy, food-strewn table one of the guys left a one dollar bill as a tip. One dollar.

Our server was a nice-enough guy. I think he was Filipino. He was wearing one of those humiliating name tags that said he had been working at Denny's for two years.

We finally got to the Katzes after one. Don came downstairs to open the door for us, which was quite a surpise. Last time we had seen him, he could barely walk 20 feet on his own. His breath was horrible with sleep.

We crashed out on the air mattress in what is known in the family as the Bonus Room.

The next morning I woke up early to get my work done. I was working remotely, which was pretty cool. At about noon, when everyone was up and about. Don took us to a Frenchy kind of restaurant in one of the many malls down there. Don and I had already agreed to share the nicoise salad and the gruyere and gorgonzola mac and cheese when I remember that I am completely grossed out by watching him eat. He gets food all over himself and the table. Things fall off his fork back in the food. I tried to get teh mac and cheese first before he did, but it was too late. I tried not to look.

Later on in the evening it was the first Seder. Eva and I both had on the same shade of purple. This year the gathering was small -- it was just us and the family. Moshe, who is the rebel offspring of an orthodox rabbi, read through the Hagaddah in record time. Josh, Ron and Don's older brother, drained each of his 4 cups of wine in seconds. He just finished getting his MBA and is working for some investment firm called (no joke) Pimco. He drives a Lexxus and apparently is making well over $150,000 a year. I adore him because he is the biggest dork in the world. Since I'd last seen him, his already bloated belly had swelled up to volleyball proportions. And his hairline had receded some more. He's not even thirty and he has completely turned into his father. He has a huge drug problem -- cocaine and GHB -- and excused himself at least 5 times for mysterious lengthy visits to the bathroom. These absences were missed by no-one. I read in Hebrew. The Katzes were very proud of me and I glowed with their praise.

We had gefilte fish and matzah ball soup.

Ron and Eva and me took frequent smoke breaks. I love it that she's a smoker. Parliaments. Menthol. I also love that she drives a little red sportster with a personalized license plate "Dr & Mom 2."

Later we had her traditional hazlenut cake and decaf Sanka. As usual, I felt exactly as though I'm at my parent's house. Down to Moshe's conservative baiting. It's bizarre.

After dessert, Don wanted to play scrabble. He modified his Braille scrabble board with velcro so that the pieces stay on the board. It's pretty ingenious. He's really good at the game, too. Its not hard for him to keep track of where the words are at all. He beat me and Ron, but as usual, Sam won.