>My hotel room in Sacramento faces an expressway. (Maybe 80? Not sure, but it is very busy at all times of the day and night.) As I was drifting off to sleep last night, listening to the sounds of traffic at 11:30 pm, it reminded me of my beloved Jewish white trash childhood home.

When my mom was pregnant with me, my parents went house hunting. They wanted to live in a great school district, but limited family resources did not exactly leave them with a lot of options. Eventually, they found a suitable 3 bedroom bi-level in a nice suburb of Chicago. The catch was that it faced the Edens Expressway, which is quite the busy road. So as I was growing up, I was used to having the background noise of traffic. All the noise meant that if you wanted to watch TV in the living room, you either had to sit inches in front of it or blast the volume. If the volume was blasting, the noise carried up to the bedrooms and people couldn’t sleep. Oy vey! When I slept over at friends’ houses, it was hard for me to fall asleep because it was usually too quiet.

Anyway, thinking about all that reminded me that I have a great picture from my 30th birthday celebration at my parents house in Dec. Our Jewish white trashiness is out in full force. My mom was extremely proud of the decorations she put out – a plastic tablecloth sprinkled with confetti in the shape of “30s” and insisted on taking a picture of it. The photo nicely captures our light blue walls, dark brown carpeting, and off center chandelier as well as my mom’s favorite sweat pants. I’m not pointing all this out in disgust or in a denigrating way. I am proud of my roots! I just think they are funny.