An Accurate Assessment - From Hillary

One night at the Dantzker house, I went downstairs to chug some San Pelligrino and happened upon Steve busily throwing together some peanut butter masterpiece. Up until this point when I had stayed in with Lizzy, I had been overwhelmingly intimidated by the entire family of cerebral maniacs. The conversation moved at a dizzying speed, each well-educated and witty family member struggling to make their well-rationalized argument before some else would jump in with their own. Yet stoic Steve would sit tight until he decided to command the conversation. He didn’t talk too quickly or loudly and he kept his comments short and pointed, yet it was these impressively succinct and downright strange interjections and anecdotes that would put the cherry on the conversation, tying together the entire tsunami of familial comedic genius into a contained space.

I did my best to keep tight and not ramble on senselessly as I normally do, lest I cement my place as the household idiot. But that night Steve actually took out his headphones (which I somehow doubt were plugged into anything), throwing out what I believe was his version of a social cue. I had to say something. What should I talk about? Everyone loves dogs. The Dantzkers love dogs, preferably if they’re lacking a limb of some kind. Ok dogs it was. Somewhere in there I admitted I couldn’t imagine myself having any other dog beside a Jack Russell.

Steve looked as though I had just held a cup of urine underneath his nose. “So you like yappy, impertinent, obnoxious little dogs, do you?”

“Well I like your daughter don’t I?”

Steve calmly put down the peanut butter and leaned back in hearty laughter. Then the conversation was over. Apparently the way to the man’s heart was by throwing his spawn under the bus.

***

He was completely fascninating, the kind of unreasonably brilliant and truthful man who lived with such self-confidence that he said and did everything on his own time and at his own leisure. He seemed to never succumb to that pressure to fulfill to those base sorts of social expectation, just to make everyone else able to pretend they are comfortable with themselves. If he felt there was no need or desire to speak, he would refrain or just leave the room. Orthodox in his irreverence, he made the fig at decorum. He would bump into the elephants in the room and not say excuse me. Perhaps he didn’t notice if they were there or just didn’t care.

However inhospitable he was to social convention, the man was generous. The entire Dantzker family is like this; they open their home and give more than just a chance to anyone. They took me in for weeks at a time without a thought and shoved food down my throat at every dinner outing, applauding my “healthy” appetite. They allowed me to just exist, passively watching as their energy would explode, recoil, and break stuff in the room. I got to hitchhike along on their fantastic journey on and off over the course of two and a half years, and I am eternally grateful to Steve, Jackie, Lizzy and all the other Dantzkers for this. Rest in Peace, Steve. I am sure you are out there somewhere, making jokes and laughing to yourself while everyone else is still scratching their heads and digesting your bizarre spoonfuls of hilarity.