Not a Coca-Cola Family

This photo was missing from my L.A. roundup. It's a picture of my great uncle and great aunt, Jan and Victoria, whom I got to visit with while I was in the area. Uncle Jan is my grandmother's youngest brother, a mischievous guy with a twinkle in his eye and a whip-smart wife and daughter--also named Victoria, though the family gets away with calling her by her childhood nickname, Pepsi, and somehow she doesn't hate us all for it.

When I was in Washington D.C. in January, Pepsi and her husband James came out for Obama's inauguration and we all spent some time together. Pepsi told us stories about her father's wild days, when he drove across the country with a gun in his glove box "just in case."

And James, who is Korean, told a very funny story about picking Pepsi up for their first date. He said he knocked on her door but instead of Pepsi answering this old Polish guy appeared. James was sure he had the wrong address but the man invited him inside and urged him to sit down, so James sat on the couch and watched television with Pepsi's (Polish) father and (Filipino) mother until she was ready to go.


I didn't get to see James and Pepsi this time around because they were vacationing in Acapulco, but I had a nice lunch with her parents at a Chinese buffet with signs that read "ALL YOU CAN EAT! Only take what you will eat or we will charge you extra."

At the end of my visit, Uncle Jan loaded up a bag for me with four bottles of water, a six pack of miniature Baby Ruth candy bars, and one orange and one lemon from their own fruit trees. I protested that I would only be traveling half an hour by car, but they insisted I leave with provisions "just in case."

I'll tell you something: That lemon was delicious. I drizzled it over the green beans Mike and I had for dinner that night and sliced up the rest to flavor our water. I hope to make it out to Los Angeles again soon, and maybe next time we can all go fishing together.