Best wishes (or whatever's appropriate) for those of you celebrating Passover, Holy Week, and like holidays.

For a locally-raised Catholic, you may be surprised to find that Passover does trigger a couple of things for me. Both deal with memories, but moreso one than the other. I'll explain.

Manchester, as I think I've noted before, is pretty WASPy. The number of Jewish folks in town were probably countable on your hands, and I think you'd probably have at least one finger left over. Thus the Judaic world would probably have made little to no impression on me growing up except for my debate coach/AP English teacher.

Tim Averill was born a Kansas Protestant, but converted to Judaism when he got married. And he embraced the religion, rather than just treating it as pro forma to wedlock. Part of his expression of faith was to share it with his students. This sounds like the sort of thing the ACLU gets in line to stop, but he did it in ways that did not, to me at least, violate my First Amendment rights.

The first was that he taught a quarter-long unit on the Holocaust. This was almost like diversity education before diversity education became all the rage, but Mr. Averill's focus as a teacher allowed us to, as much as people our age and in our place and time could, understand the issues and horror of the Holocaust. This is not my primary Passover memory from him, but as you can imagine it's connected in my head pretty solidly.

When I was in junior high, Mr. Averill held a Passover seder to coincide with our reading of Chaim Potok's The Chosen (I know there are people out there who find Potok tedious, but I remember liking the book at the time). What I remember less about the seder is what was served and what the meaning behind everything was, but more the idiots in the class who disrespected Mr. Averill, not necessarily out of hate, but out of ignorance. To be honest it was probably slight, and I'm sure none of my classmates who did this even remember, but it sticks in my head. To me, it's symbolic of most inter-whatever relations we have in America. Some people care and want to learn, a fringe truly hates, but most don't have the common courtesy to let people do something "different," often for the simple case of it being different.

My other Passover memory-related thing is a little more upbeat.

Growing up, I had a friend named Sean Townsend who lived down the street. He was the first true Coca-Cola fiend I'd ever met. Not so much in collecting things or otherwise steeping himself in Coke lore and history, but in his devotion to the brand and the consumption of the beverage. My house was pretty ecumenical where soda was concerned (price being the key factor), but Sean was the key person to turn me on to Coke for good.

As you can imagine, we both were strongly against the New Coke change, and we both applauded the return of the original. Except that it wasn't really the original. Increasingly, the Coke we were drinking was made with high fructose corn syrup. There may have been other changes to the flavorings (how would we know, the formulas surrounding them being secret), but the "original" certainly wasn't the same beverage.

Which leads us to Passover. While corn syrup is kosher for everyday use, for Passover it's not. Thus, for Passover, Coke bottles a version that goes back to using cane and beet sugar, which it originally used. This is, according to some, a way to get back to the original taste we grew up with.

I had the good sense to pick up a bottle of Passover Coke this week, and I have to say the results are mixed. I do think the Passover Coke tastes different, but not by much. It may be more of a "mouthfeel" difference than taste; the liquid feels thinner and more carbonated. It's probably just me. In any event, the occasions when I remember to get Passover Coke do at least allow me to remember a good friend, one who is (I think) living in the Boston area now. You'd think I'd have called by now. Oy.