Family Ties
by Emma Schnur
It starts with an innocent phone call:
“Hey all, this is your favorite Uncle Aaron. Just calling to see if there is anything that I can bring to the sedar on Wednesday. I’m really excited. It should be fun.”
Then it takes a turn for the worse:
“What’s the theme this year?”
It started six years ago. Previous to that, my family had hosted Passover seders, but never seemed to get past the fact that to actually follow Jewish customs you have to do things that were actually considered Jewish. It seemed that sitting still for three hours was an impossible task to complete for the Schnur family. We would all sit down at the table, and fifteen minutes into it, somebody would start fidgeting. Thirty minutes into it, somebody would start throwing things. After forty-five minutes had gone by, they were asking when they could leave. None of them liked sitting through this obligatory lesson and a meal once a year. They had had enough. After many, many, many unsuccessful sedars at my house, we decided that something must be done.
It was the spring of ’01. My father, my mother, my brother, and I all sat down one day to figure out how to fix the fiasco that happened every year. We sat there for hours, trying to come up with something that would keep the family entertained, but also something that would be traditional. Suddenly, it came to us. The thought so simple, pure and easy that we marveled at the fact that we hadn’t thought of it earlier: we would have a themed sedar. It was perfect! It would give the family something to do, and it would tire them out so they wouldn’t talk too much during the actual traditional part.
Next came a greater obstacle: what should we choose as our theme? We tossed about many ideas: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy (though we didn’t know how to get five gay men to come into our home), Fear Factor (but nobody wanted to collect hornets in the middle of the night), and many others. Finally, the idea of the theme came to me, so I like to take all the credit for it. I was really into this show on CBS called Survivor. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, probably not. I don’t even think it’s still on the air.
For this seder, we worked them. We worked them hard. They were forced to keep active; they ran around the house three times while feeding each other their dinner. Grandma, being the bitter loser that she was, threw a fit when it was announced that she was disqualified for tripping her eight year old nephew when he began to pull ahead. Her partner in this task, Uncle Gordon, threw down his plate and screamed, “Goddamn it Grandma! Drop your cane and RUN!!” In the hard-boiled egg eating contest, my Uncle Jacob devoured the competition by eating 57 eggs. By the end of the seder, though, he was asleep, with little bits of yolk coming out of his mouth. I haven’t eaten eggs since. My aunts competed in a little competition of their own: how much alcohol they could consume in three hours. While it was a little disappointing that they did not partake in the evening’s earlier events, later in the evening, they were willing to do anything to win. When it came time for them to help tell the story of Passover, they decided to mimic the pillar of fire and spun around until they dropped. It was quite a sight to see: my four aunts sprawled out on the floor laughing hysterically. Needless to say, they spent the rest of the night in the bathroom. The night ended when my Uncle Aaron got voted off the island because everyone agreed he was a pain in the ass.
After this seder, we got many calls congratulating us on a job well done. Everyone was looking forward to the next one. We were not pleased to hear this. How could we top Survivor? It was number two in the television weekly ratings. We worked all year and then finally came up with a different theme: Jews in the West. How did we come up with this brilliant theme? We were watching the little known show called Frontier House on PBS. For our tasks, we did many do-it-yourself projects: make your own matzah, make your own wine, and catch your own dinner. This went well until Grandma shot the neighbor’s dog with the rubber band handgun she always kept with her. Unfortunately, our neighbors had to take their beloved pet to the hospital. We felt really bad, but that night’s sleep bordered on excellent. We now refer to this seder as the failure of ’02.
After that fiasco, we had to redeem ourselves. Once again, I came to my family’s rescue and thought up what I thought was the most brilliant idea for our theme that year: The Apprentice (Hi, my name is Emma and I’m a reality TV show junkie). Unfortunately, when it came time to prepare for this seder, I realized that no one in my immediate family actually knew what to do. To pick up the slack, I made briefcases out of construction paper, cell phones out of cardboard, and Trump water. I did it all. However, my four-year old cousin took all the focus away from me when she stood up on her chair to present her commercial for Trump water and yelled at the top of her tiny little lungs: “THIS IS THE BEST FUCKING WATER I’VE EVER TASTED!!” The seder ended there, regardless of the fact that we were half way through.
The next year’s theme was obvious. All year, the news and tabloids had trumpeted about this one particular woman. This woman had fallen from her perch on highest peak, to the lowest of the lows in West Virginia. You guessed it: Martha Stewart. To begin, when all the guests arrived, we made them wear ankle bracelets made out of paper. They made beautiful ponchos, wove together baskets, and when my cousin went to find the afikomen (the hidden piece of matzah), we locked him in a room, just to get a little feeling of prison. We then had them knit together a quilt that showed all the important steps in the Passover story. Uncle Gordon did not like the pace that Grandma was going at, so he turned to her and screamed, “Goddamn it Grandma! Drop your cane and KNIT!” Apparently Grandma did not sense the urgency in his voice and kept on knitting at the same pace. Things could have gotten ugly had it not been for my aunt spilling kosher-for Passover vodka all over the table. Saved again by another alcoholic beverage.
This year, we knew what the theme was going to be ahead of time, we just didn’t actually plan it out until the day of the seder. As it turned out, it was the piece de resistance: The Olympics (not a reality show!). As everyone arrived, they were met with the theme music that usually you only hear on NBC every four years. But hey, we go all out. To start off the ceremonies, my brother graciously offered to run down the eight-foot hallway wearing a spandex bodysuit and holding an Olympic torch. Thus ended the opening ceremonies. At this point, each guest donned the hat that was waiting for them at their seat. We had: America (a trucker hat), the United Kingdom (a plain black hat with a pink bow), Ireland (a big, floppy Saint Patrick’s Day hat), Bosnia (another big floppy hat- but this time in blue!) and many more. We then commenced with different tasks: the ever popular game of curling, the life-size escape from Egypt maze, the 100 meter dash, and the swimming event. My Uncle Gordon, trying to be helpful, screamed at Grandma before she reached the finish line, “Goddamn it Grandma! Drop your cane and SWIM!!” After that, we figured that it was time for closing ceremonies, due to the fact that the entire family was at the door. For this special event, my mom graced us with her magical singing voice when she sang “Dancing Queen” by Abba. Everyone ran out the door. It was too bad they did, because next we were going to have someone jump on a trampoline while juggling and singing “Next Year in Jerusalem.” They stuck the landing too.
Passover ended just a few weeks ago and already the phone calls have begun. We are trying to kick that nasty old habit of us thinking of the theme the day before the seder. So, we have already planned out the theme for next year: Punk’d. Watch out Grandma.