The Rain Did Not Pass us Over

The wonderfully gracious staff at Zorba's were once again marvelously hospitable to the various dietary needs at the table - and early on a Passover observer said to the group, "no one can drink beer." Indeed this was a sad day for mankind, and eating grout and bitter herbs did most certainly sound better than such a harsh reality.

Thankfully, this was simply a misunderstanding. So the relatively small (and damp) group of Gang Outers moved on to wheatier pastures (most certainly avoiding all things that may have been leavened or overly yeasty) and found themselves in Costa Rica, East Timor, Malaysia, Jordan, and French Guiana (or was it Guinea? - same f'ing thing...)

Rib cages were broken (or fractured) - but we couldn't tell if it was the laughter, the vinaigre, or the mistreatment of an absent Au Pair. Epiphanies were most certainly had, and surely they were artistic - but we weren't able to discern whether they were sculpture-like, semi-poetic song-like (and kind of like super-famous for the over-forty crowd), or whether it was the performance art of Elijah drinking his Manischevitz and leaving without actually drinking it at all or ever stopping by in a very Da Da kind of way.

Coffee was a popular topic of conversation - or should we say rap... what's your grind? Heightening the experience and the aromas, Greek coffee (shhh! it's actually Jordanian and Anderson Cooper loves it (shhh! it's actually Cyprian and you've wasted half your saturday (shhh! it's actually Turkish and it has nothing to do with coconut shavings, but a lot to do with steeped sugar (too soon?)))) was sipped by a few relatively damp souls that may have been passed over by God him- (or her-) self, but most certainly not by the God of Rain...

For some, we say "Dayenu!!" For others, we say, "à Boby!!"

No goats were harmed in the writing of this message.