enjoy, enjoy
Yes, Fr Tom is a strange person, who does love a personalized breakfast, this morning with my second mug of hot & black, four fish sticks with ranch dressing, an enormous green olive and chewing around the seed, smaller seedless olives, a selection of mushrooms, artichoke hearts, and garlic from the serve yourself olive bar of some grocery, most likely Fresh Market.
Actually, I thought it would stave off the PPHT (post prandial hypo tension) blood pressure drop that surprises me with a sudden strike of extremely sore and aching neck and shoulders, head too heavy to hold up, and disappearance of thought process. This morning drop of BP from my usual of about 120/60 down to 74/48 in a matter of seconds. Twice in the past week it's caused me to lose consciousness momentarily, which gives me further impetus about stopping driving. To wit:
When TJCC came recently for early Mothers Day (took us to Ferrucci for noon dinner that day), I picked up in the living room conversation, a hint about Charlotte wanting my Volvo. In this family history I've seldom traded cars, when I'm finished driving them I give them to a family member. Joe got, for example, a red VW convertible then a blue Plymouth Voyager, then a silver Honda that had been Tassy's then mine, then a green Ford Taurus that had been Paint's then Linda's then mine, then my silver Cadillac SRX that may have been my all Time favorite car. So I'm basically stopping driving, and Charlotte expressed hopeful interest in the Volvo XC60 that I bought for Kristen a dozen years ago after her car crash in Atlanta while she was a student at Emory. When the Volvo reached ten years and over 100K miles I decided to replace it for Kristen, took the Volvo for myself and gave Joe my SRX. So now if Charlotte still wants the Volvo after driving it, it's hers. It's a well used but well running car that we've taken care of.
No blogpost yesterday: after my walk I felt more like sitting outside on 7H porch and admiring my Bay, the view up and down it from Tyndall Bridge in the east to Magnolia Beach on the west side, south across over what will forever be called "Shell Island" even though with the Old Pass closed it's a strip of peninsula jutting out from Tyndall Field that's broken by the New Pass. and over into the Gulf.
Watching water traffic, the pelicans flying by, single and some in groups of four or five, some at my eye level, some so close to the surface of the bay that they leave a "smear" in the water as they move on. Ospreys, the sea-hawks of William Alexander Percy's poem hymn, circling to spot fish, hovering just before diving, and sometimes an osprey is curious enough about me sitting on the porch that he circles over for a closer look. The osprey nest in Boulder County Fairgrounds, Colorado has four eggs, the old mom bird but a new dad bird this year. I check it every few days even though lately someone who's evidently a meteorologist posts so much information about the weather there that I'm not seeing the usual chats among the years-long cast of nest watchers, all of whom love the birds and their nest and watch carefully all through nesting season from early spring until late summer, early fall when everyone migrates.
Mostly though I gaze across into the Gulf. "Which Gulf?" you ask.
Which Gulf? Well, you know, that one; the Gulf that rolls ashore at America Beach the other side of TAFB before you get to Gulf County. If they don't have the unmentionables to correct the name of their city from Mexico Beach to America Beach, they're RINOs, nomesane?
So, yesterday, gaze, read, go online and explore, watch the weather and worry about son Joe in Louisville. Loovle. Scroll down my email and read one percent of it. My email is <1% personal, >99% is various news sites, weather alerts & such.
Oh, but I wanted to think about my morning walks (one a day, now and then afternoon, but mostly morning). At this age a person needs to do at lease minimal exercise regularly, and I'm doing mine by different kinds of walking, varying to avoid the overwhelming boredom that causes me to skip it and grind to a halt.
One day last week I walked around our underground garage here at Harbour Village. That walk is good for about once a week, checking out the cars. How many are SUVs, how many pickup trucks, how many sedans coupes convertible's, how many motorcycles.
These days, in spite of the move to smaller cars and smaller motors (from V8s down to four and even three cylinder), most Americans seem to drive big, square cars, SUVs (SAVs if it's a BMW).
One day I counted how many cars in the garage had Cramer GM stickers and it added up to a noticeable percentage.
Even though our cars have downsized in length from our long hood, long trunk big American road cars of the 1950s and 1960s &c, the bulk has just grown higher, taller. Enormous luxury pickup trucks and SUVS, with hoods high enough that the driver cannot see if a child is in front of his/her vehicle or someone is stepping off the curb to cross the street. The BMW X7 parked next to my Volvo that Charlotte asked for is way higher over my head and bigger than the Tahoe we bought back in September 2001.
Another day's walk I took pictures at every stop, down in the park next door, the carved tree, the view from the fourth floor here and the sixth floor, then finishing with a snapshot of our living room. That living room pic was simply to show that I'd finished my walk, not to reveal our room of shabby luxury; I've taken it down before folks started moving in close enough to see what books I'm reading ("The Five Gospels" by the Jesus Seminar folks is standing up beside my windowsill table-desk).
Yesterday I ordered a book of Jewish humor, replacing an old, thick volume that was on my bookshelves for probably forty years that I enjoyed it before it evaporated during one of our many relocations. Pennsylvania to Apalachicola, Apalachicola to the Old Place, Old Place to 7H, downsizing every Time. Why Jewish humor? Because it's the most exquisite humor there is, even somehow ineffably so.
From yesterday's Jewish website that emails me every day:
Jewish Jokes
Great traditional Jewish jokes.
From Groucho Marx to the Borscht Belt to Sarah Silverman, many of America’s best-known comedians have been Jewish. And so important is humor to Jewish culture that a landmark study on American Jewish identity in 2013 found that 42 percent of American Jews consider “having a good sense of humor” to be “an essential part of what being Jewish means.” (In contrast, only 19 percent said observing Jewish law was essential.)
READ: The 10 Best Jewish Jokes in ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’
But Jewish humor can be difficult to define. As William Novak and Waldoks write in The Big Book of Jewish Humor, it is easier to describe Jewish humor in terms of what it is not, than what it is.
It is not, for example, escapist. It is not slapstick. It is not physical. It is generally not cruel and does not attack the weak or the infirm. At the same time, it is also not polite or gentle.
Below are examples of some Jewish jokes.
With your help, My Jewish Learning can provide endless opportunities for learning, connection and discovery.
The Top Hat
Schwartz is sitting in his room, wearing only a top hat, when Steinberg strolls in.
“Why are you sitting here naked?”
“It’s all right,” says Schwartz. “Nobody comes to visit.”
“But why the hat?”
“Maybe somebody will come.”
You Don’t Look Jewish
A woman on a train walked up to a man across the table. “Excuse me,” she said, “but are you Jewish?”
“No,” replied the man.
A few minutes later the woman returned. “Excuse me,” she said again, “are you sure you’re not Jewish?”
“I’m sure,” said the man.
But the woman was not convinced, and a few minutes later she approached him a third time. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not Jewish?” she asked.
“All right, all right,” the man said. “You win. I’m Jewish.”
“That’s funny,” said the woman.” You don’t look Jewish.”
Rain in Chelm
Two men of Chelm went out for a walk, when suddenly it began to rain.
“Quick,” said one. “Open your umbrella.”
“It won’t help,” said his friend. “My umbrella is full of holes.”
“Then why did you bring it?”
“I didn’t think it would rain!”
The Riddle
A man in Chelm once thought up a riddle that nobody could answer: “What’s purple, hangs on the wall and whistles?”
When everybody gave up, he announced the answer: a white fish.
“A white fish?” people said. “A white fish isn’t purple.”
“Nu,” replied the jokester, “this white fish was painted purple.”
“But hanging on a wall? Who ever heard of a white fish that hung on a wall?”
“Aha! But this white fish was hung on the wall.”
“But a white fish doesn’t whistle,” somebody shouted.
“Nu, so it doesn’t whistle.”
Our Luck
Two Jews sat in a coffeehouse, discussing the fate of their people.
“How miserable is our history,” said one. “Pogroms, plagues, discrimination, Hitler, Neo-Nazis…Sometimes I think we’d be better off if we’d never been born.”
“Sure,” said his friend. “But who has that much luck — maybe one in 50,000?”
Hoodlums
Two Jews are walking through a neighborhood one evening when they notice they are being followed by a pair of hoodlums.
“David,” say his friend, “we better get out of here. There are two of them, and we’re alone!”
The Terrifying Rumor
In a small village in Poland, a terrifying rumor was spreading: A Christian girl had been found murdered.
Fearing retaliation, the Jewish community gathered in the to plan whatever defensive actions were possible under the circumstances.
Just as the emergency meeting was being called to order, in ran the president of the synagogue, out of breath and all excited. “Brothers,” he cried out, “I have wonderful news! The murdered girl is Jewish!”
The Census
The census taker comes to the Goldman house.
“Does Louis Goldman live here?” he asks.
“No,” replies Goldman.
“Well, then, what is your name?”
“Louis Goldman.”
“Wait a minute–didn’t you just tell me that Goldman doesn’t live here?”
“Aha,” says Goldman. “You call this living?”
The Converts
Three Jews who had recently converted to Christianity were having a drink together in a posh restaurant. They started talking about the reasons for their conversions.
“I converted out of love,” said the first. “Not for Christianity, but for a Christian girl. As you both know, my wife insisted that I convert.”
“And I,” said the second, “I converted in order to rise in the legal system. You probably know that my recent appointment as a federal judge may have had something to do with my new religion.”
The third man spoke up: “I converted because I think that the teachings of Christianity are superior to those of Judaism.”
“Are you kidding?” said the first man, spitting out his drink.
“What do you take us for, a couple of goyim?”
Manure
Schwartz, an elderly man, is resting peacefully on the porch of his small hotel outside Boca when he sees a cloud of dust up the road. He walks out to see who could be approaching: It is a Southern farmer with a wagon.
“Good afternoon,” says Schwartz.
“Afternoon,” says the farmer.
“Where you headed?” asks Schwartz.
“Town.”
“What do you have in the wagon?”
“Manure.”
“Manure, eh? What do you do with it?”
“I spread it over the fruit.”
“Well,” says Bernstein, “you should come over here for lunch someday. We use sour cream.”
Lightbulbs
How many Zionists does it take to replace a light bulb?
Four: One to stay home and convince others to do it, a second to donate the bulb, a third to screw it in and a fourth to proclaim that the entire Jewish people stands behind their actions.
Richest Man in Town
At the funeral of the richest man in town, a stranger saw a woman crying very loudly. The stranger said, “Are you a relative of the deceased?”
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“That’s why!”
Showing Up Late
Bernstein walks into work one day at 9. He is very late The boss is furious. “You should have been here at 8:30!” he shouts.
“Why?” says Shapiro. “What happened at 8:30?”
Public Toilets
Bloomberg, on a business trip, found himself using a public toilet. He had just made himself comfortable when he noticed that the toilet paper roll was empty. He called out to the next stall, “Excuse me, friend, but do you have any toilet paper in there?”
“No, I’m afraid there doesn’t seem to be any here, either.”
Bloomberg paused for a moment. “Listen, he said, do you happen to have a newspaper or a magazine with you?”
“Sorry, I don’t.”
Bloomberg paused again, and then said, “How about two fives for a ten?”
Charity
The rabbi was angry about the amount of money his congregants were giving to charity. He prayed that the rich should give more charity to the poor.
“And has your prayer been answered?” asked his wife.
“Half of it was,” replied the rabbi. “The poor are willing to accept the money.”
Divorce
My wife divorced me for religious reasons. She worshipped money and I didn’t have any!
34 Years
I’ve been married for 34 years, and I’m still in love with the same woman. If my wife ever finds out, I’ll be in big trouble!
Cheating
Feinstein returned home from a business trip to discover that his wife had cheated on him
“Who was it?” he roared. “That bastard Wolf?”
“No,” replied his wife. “It wasn’t Wolf.”
“Was it Green, that creep?”
“No, it wasn’t him.”
“I know — it must have been that idiot Sherman.”
“No, it wasn’t Sherman, either.”
Feinstein was furious. “Whatsa matter?” he cried. “None of my friends is good enough for you?”
The Hospital Visit
An old man is struck by a car and brought to the hospital. A nurse enters his room and says, “Sir, are you comfortable?”
The old man replies, “I make a nice living.”
The Million-Dollar Question for God
A poor man walking in the forest feels close enough to God to ask, “God, what is a million years to you?”
God replies, “My son, a million years to you is like a second to me.”
The man asks, “God, what is a million dollars to you?”
God replies, “My son, a million dollars to you is less than a penny to me. It means almost nothing to me.”
The man asks, “So God, can I have a million dollars?”
And God replies, “In a second.”