Posts Tagged ‘George Carlin’

A SERIOUS RESOLUTION—KIND OF

I love to laugh. So I’m going to tell you one of my favorite jokes—in a moment. But you may not hear much humor from me in 2019.

Don’t get me wrong. Growing up in New York, exchanging banter was as natural as drinking mother’s milk. Although I was bottle fed. Scotch. When I outgrew my bottle, I learned to drink from a tippy cup. Vodka. But sometimes humorous comments get in the way. And as I grow older, I sometimes go to extremes. I reference the late George Carlin.

Carlin—also a New Yorker—offered, “Class clown becomes office schmuck.” I was never class clown, although I was chief comic among my friends. I was never office schmuck. But that slippery slope beckoned, and among friends, I often teetered on the brink. I’m pulling myself back. It’s so important to let other people speak and actively listen to what they say. Imagine if Donald Trump, the Oval Office schmuck, followed suit.

Not that I’m burrowing into a hole and clamming up. Although I did that recently. I experimented by spending one year of Torah Study rarely making comments. I wanted to learn more from our teacher and other students. Admittedly, I withheld observations that might have clarified our discussions. The Sages say not to do that. Apologies. When that year concluded, I dialed back my silence and shared thoughts I believed critical, particularly when discussions came close to veering off the rails. In that light, I’ll try to modify all my social interactions in 2019 to be less of a wiseass.

Not that I’ll stop laughing. Last week, Carolyn and I flew to Baton Rouge—a mirthless adventure that took over 30 hours thanks to electrical storms in Texas and Louisiana. Still, we had a wonderful visit with our son Seth, a grad student at Louisiana State University (LSU) in video game design. His degree combines art and technology, and he showed us some of what he’s doing. Fabulous.

Seth gave me a belated Chanukah gift, the book Old Jews Telling Jokes. It’s a compendium told by—yes—old Jews (60 and up) on the YouTube site of that name. Interestingly, Carolyn and I saw an off-Broadway version a few years ago. One of us laughed a lot.

Now for that joke I promised. (It’s not in the book). It was told, as I recall, by the late Myron Cohen. It involves ritual circumcision. If this seems too much for you, don’t read any further. But you won’t find in it the word penis or any of its Yiddish terms, like schlong or schwantz. Still reading? Good.

A mohel (MOY-al)—a ritual circumcizer—enters a luggage-maker’s shop. He says, “Fifty years I’ve been snipping baby boys, now I’ve retired.” He presents the luggage-maker with a large sack. “I saved every foreskin. Make me something to remember my life’s work.” The luggage-maker says, “Sure. Come back in a week.” The mohel comes back and receives a package in a plain brown paper. It fits in the palm of his hand. Wary, he unwraps it. “A wallet? Fifty years, and all I get is a wallet?” The luggage-maker grins. “Rub it. It’ll turn into a suitcase.”

Happy New Year!

The above commentary does not constitute a legal declaration—explicit or implicit—that the writer (aka David Perlstein) will refrain in whole or in part from telling jokes or making comments intended—but not guaranteed—to be humorous at any time and in any place of his (but not the listener’s) choosing during the year 2019 of the common era. Further, this statement does not constitute an agreement with his wife Carolyn that he will refrain from making adolescent comments typical of a man at the age of sixty-fourteen.

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CHICKEN VINDALOONIES

North Korea. ISIS. DACA. Harvey. Irma. This morning’s 8.1 quake in Mexico. Life gets heavy. So it’s time to lighten up with Indian food that soothes the soul. I’ve got just the recipe. Actually, forty. But first, an explanation.

Carolyn and I visited India last fall. Recently, we had an Indian dinner at Keeva on Clement Street between 9th and 10th Avenues. Having leftovers, the next night we picked up a dish of Chicken Vindaloo to fill out a meal at home. India being large and diverse, Chicken Vindaloo varies from family to family, restaurant to restaurant, town to town. Research revealed many recipes, each appealing to a different taste. See how many you recognize:

Vindalucy created with Cuban spices by Desi Arnaz on “I Love Lucy” for Lucille Ball… Vindalube prepared by auto mechanics on the greasy side… Vindaljubljana prized by residents of Slovenia’s capital… Vindalulu scarfed by the British singer Lulu  with the 1967 hit “To Sir With Love”… Vindalucretia in safe and poisonous versions from Italy’s notorious Borgia family… Vindalubavitch satisfying the kashrut standards of Chassidic Jews… Vindaluminous lighting the night for stargazers… Vindalooneytunes for fans of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck…

Vindalucite slobbered over by multi-headed, plastic-eating space aliens on “The Simpsons”—and Homer… Vindalutece followed by assorted cheeses at the once-famed Manhattan restaurant… Vindaludacris, a recipe traditionally passed on by rapping… Vindalutein recommended by ophthalmologists to fight macular degeneration… Vindalute soothing lovers of Baroque and classical Persian music… Vindalouisville served at the Kentucky Derby… Vindalugosi offered at Dracula film festivals…

Vindaluria connecting the human and Divine for kabbalists… Vindalucca spicing things up for folks living in the Italian city founded by the Etruscans… Vindalupron maintaining masculinity for prostate cancer patients undergoing hormone therapy… Vindalude recalling memories of all-night dancing in ’70s glam-rock clubs… Vindaloofah cleansing the bodies and souls of earth mothers… Vindaloogie clearing congested throats… Vindalucille memorializing B.B. King’s legendary guitar… Vindalucchese for folks who love cowboy boots…

Vindaluna satisfying the nighttime munchies of moon watchers… Vindalucre for Wall Street types… Vindalouvre winning the grudging approval of French art lovers… Vindaloose prepared on the go by prison escapees (you thought I had something else in mind?)… Vindalucha heating the palates of Mexican wrestling fans… Vindalucci celebrated soap opera star Susan’s Emmy (1999) after 18 fruitless nominations… Vindaluke offering a taste of Heaven to readers of the Gospels… Vindalucifer for those who like it hot and then some…

Vindaloot gobbled at malls by shopping addicts… Vindalucabrasi, a dish you can’t refuse inspired by “The Godfather”… Vindalucerne prized like their ancient covered bridges by citizens in central Switzerland’s largest city… Vindalouvaine featured at a neighborhood restaurant on St. John’s Hill in Battersea, London (South Bank)… Vindalura teasing the taste buds of the little girl who lived down the street from us 40 years ago… Vindaloser endlessly regurgitated by Donald Trump… and my favorite—Vindalunacy.

The late George Carlin quipped, “Class clown becomes office schmuck.” I add, “Lame humor writer remains lame humor writer.” But this is my post, and we all need to ingest something silly now and then. See how many references you recognized without googling. And if you didn’t laugh with me, laugh at me. But laugh! We need to do that now more than ever.

Didn’t find your favorite? Let me know what it is. Hungry? The New York Times offers real chicken recipes from around the world.

To respond, click on “comments” to the right just below the title of this post. Then go to the response space at the bottom of the post.