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Book smarts vs. bubbe smarts
Jennifer Finkel, a somewhat pompous freshman at an Ivy League college, brought home a few of her equally affected pals. She couldn’t wait to show off her new knowledge with her bubbe. Arguing with great intensity, the students discussed Darwin and the revisionists’ attack on the theory of evolution.
Finally, her bubbe spoke up.
“Oy vey. For dis mine son pays a fortune?! Feh! Narishkeit!”
“No, gran,” protested Jennifer. “It’s very complicated.”
“Complicated, shmomplicated! Please. Even 60 years ago in Russia, we knew the answer, 1-2-3. If the baby looks like his father, that’s heredity. If he looks like the milkman, now that’s environment!”
The birthday present
Golda’s son Jerry sent some caviar and champagne to his mother for her birthday.
When he asked how she liked them, she replied, “The ginger ale was really delicious but the huckleberries tasted like herring.”
A Hassidic Jew in a big shtreimel, a traditional fur hat, is stopped at customs by an agent at JFK airport and asked: “Taliban?”
“No,” the man replies. “Teitelbaum.”
What’s fare is fair
Heshy Hirschman phones El Al airlines. “Yes, can I help you?” asks the booking clerk.
“I’m looking to book a flight to Tel Aviv for this coming Sunday,” he says. “And I’m wondering if there are any seats still available.”
“Before I can answer that,” says the El Al clerk, “I need to know how many people are going to fly with you.”
“Oy vey, what a silly question,” Heshy replies. “How should I know — it’s your airplane, not mine.”
© david minkoff
My Jewish grandmother practically invented multitasking. She could worry about six things at once.
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