Read Old Jews Telling Jokes Online
Authors: Sam Hoffman
Old Jews Telling Jokes (6 page)
Morty Ballin
Chinese Waiter
Sam and his wife, Sadie, were visiting New York City from Cleveland.
Around lunchtime one day, they found themselves in the Garment District and went into a kosher restaurant, called Ben Siegel’s.
They sat down in a booth and were approached by a Chinese waiter.
They thought this was odd, but were astonished when the waiter took their order, speaking perfect Yiddish.
During the meal, when Ben Siegel came around to their table to ask if everything was all right, Sam mentioned to him how surprised they were that the Chinese waiter spoke such good Yiddish.
“Shh,” said Ben. “He thinks I’m teaching him English.”
Moving to the SuburbsSuccess!
IN THE YEARS AFTER WORLD WAR II, THE CITY BEGAN TO LOSE
some of its luster. The economy was booming and the Jews had a few shekels in their pockets. Families were growing, and three or four kids, plus Grandma Sophie, was a tight squeeze in a railroad apartment. With Levittown and other suburbs beckoning only a short train ride from the city, Jews grabbed their own lot-sized parcels of American terra firma.
To have a house was to partake fully in the American dream, but it meant so much more. For one thing, suburban non-Jews could now stare at jars of gefilte fish in the local Stop & Shop and wonder, Where the hell do you catch one of those?
If the cities were a half-step from the homogeneous God-fearing life of the European shtetls, then the suburbs were another world entirely. The Jews, by choice and because of discrimination, tended to stick to proven “Jewish” suburbs, but their assimilation into American culture was deepening still. A new culture began to seep into the society: the worship of “success.”
While their neighbors were keeping up with the Joneses, the Jews were defining their own rules of conspicuous consumption. Social status could be codified by any of numerous possessions: membership in synagogues and golf clubs, lavish bar mitzvahs, overachieving children, cosmetic surgery, winters in Florida, groovy 3-D prints by Agam, or even braided gold chains with really bulky chais.
Success and its trappings brought mixed feelings to the Jews. Is it kosher to miss shul on Saturday if you shoot three under par? Can you eat bacon at your beach house if the renters are just going to do it anyway? Is it okay to drive a Mercedes even though it’s made by Germans? The jokes in this chapter give voice to those feelings.
Max Weisberg was born in Cleveland, lived in Los Angeles for forty-five years, and now resides in Scottsdale, Arizona. He once donated a collection of Jewish folklore and humor books to the library at the University of Judaism in Los Angeles.
There was this couple that was very successful. They used to be in the scrap metal business—junk business—in Boyle Heights, California. They became prosperous and moved to Beverly Hills.
One night, the husband says to the wife, “Becky, listen, how’s about a bite to eat?”
She says, “Morris, please, in Boyle Heights you’d say ‘How’s about a bite to eat?’ In Beverly Hills you’d say, ‘How’s about a snack?’ ”
“Fine. How’s about a snack?” He makes her something, and they finish. “Becky, how’s about we go for a walk?”
She says, “Morris, please, in Boyle Heights you’d say, ‘How’s about we go for a walk?’ In Beverly Hills you’d say, ‘How’s about we go for a stroll?’ ”
“Fine, let’s go for a stroll.” So, they go for a stroll. They come back. He says, “Becky, how’s about we go for a schtup?”
She says, “Morris, in Boyle Heights you’d say, ‘How’s about we go for a schtup?’ In Beverly Hills you’d say, ‘Let’s go to the party.’ ”
He says, “Let’s go to the party.”
They’re in bed, they’re doing their thing, they’re hocking away at each other. He turns to her and says, “Becky, are you coming yet?”
She says, “Morris, in Boyle Heights you’d say, ‘Are you coming yet?’ In Beverly Hills, you’d say, ‘Are you sailing yet?’ ”
He says, “Becky, are you sailing yet?”
She says, “Morris, I’m not sailing yet.” They go on a bit longer.
“Becky, are you sailing yet?”
“No, Morris, I’m not sailing yet.”
They go some more, some more.
“Becky, are you sailing yet?”
“No, Morris, I’m not sailing yet.”
“Becky! I’m sailing, I’m leaving the party, bon voyage!”
Sam Shannon
The Bar Mitzvah
Murray was planning a bar mitzvah for his son, like nothing anyone had ever seen. Invitees would be flown first-class to Africa and mounted on elephants to trudge through remote jungles to an extraordinary, beautiful savannah where the ceremony would be held.
The procession ambled through dense brush for hours until suddenly it was held up. Nobody in the back could see the problem, so they called forward, elephant to elephant, to see what the holdup was.
The answer came back, relayed rider to rider, all the way to the rear of the procession.
“We had to stop! There’s another bar mitzvah up ahead.”
Gershon Evan
The Son-in-Law
A young woman tells her mom that she thinks she’s pregnant. Very worried, the mother goes to the drugstore and buys a pregnancy kit. The test result shows that the girl is indeed going to have a baby. Shouting and crying, the mother says, “Who did this to you? I need to know!”
The girl picks up the phone and makes a call. Half an hour later, a Ferrari stops in front of their house. A distinguished-looking man, impeccably dressed in an Armani suit, steps out of a Ferrari and enters the house.
He sits in the living room with the father, mother, and young woman and tells them, “Your daughter has informed me of the situation. I can’t marry her because of my personal family situation, but I’ll take responsibility. I’ll cover all of her expenses and provide for your daughter for the rest of her life.
“Additionally, if a girl is born, I will bequeath her a Ferrari, a beach house, two retail stores, a town house, a beachfront villa, and two million dollars in cash.
“If a boy is born, my legacy will be a few factories and four million dollars.
“If it’s twins, they will receive a factory and two million dollars each.
“However, if there is a miscarriage, what do you suggest I do?”
At this point, the father, who has remained silent, places a hand firmly on the man’s shoulder and tells him, “You try again.”
Larry Zicklin is a clinical professor at New York University’s Stern School of Business. Before retiring, he was managing partner at Neuberger Berman.
Max is at his golf club. He’s finished playing a round, showered and shaved, and is now getting dressed. The cellphone next to him rings; it’s on speaker. The voice on the other end says, “Honey, you there?”
“Yes.”
“Honey, you remember that mink coat I wanted to buy, but it was a little too expensive? The furrier called today. Instead of $18,000, he’s willing to give it to me for $16,500 and I bought it. I hope you don’t mind.”
“You loved it. I’m glad you bought it.”
“Also, the Mercedes. The auto dealer called. In this economy, he wants to get rid of his inventory. Instead of $86,000, it’s $78,000.
“Can you get it with all the options?”
“All the options.”
“Buy it.”
“And those three French dresses that I really wanted, that will last me the entire winter? Eleven thousand dollars. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s okay if you want it.”
“Thank you. You’re so generous, dear.”
Max hangs up and finishes dressing. Everyone in the locker room is amazed that he’s been so generous with his wife.
As he’s leaving, he turns to the locker room and says, “Anyone know who owns this cellphone?”
Ed Koch was the mayor of New York City from 1977 through 1989. When I asked him if he would tell a joke for the site, he responded, “I don’t tell jokes. I tell anecdotes.” Always quick on my feet, I said, “You can do whatever you’d like, Mr. Mayor.”
I ran for mayor in 1977, and as I ran around town talking to people to encourage them to support me, I met with a group of two hundred elderly senior citizens, Jewish, in the Bronx.
I was late. I had been in other parts of the city, and when I got to the Bronx, they were still waiting. It was ten o’clock at night.
And when I walked in, there were some who were a little upset wondering how they were gonna get home that night without being mugged.
I said to them, “I don’t have to tell you what the issue in this campaign is. You know it as well as I. It’s crime. Crime. And do you know that a judge that I know was mugged this week? And he called a press conference. And he said to those reporters, ‘This mugging will in no way affect my decisions and judgment in matters of this nature.’ ”
And an elderly lady in the back of the room stood up and said, “Then mug him again.”
Mitch Green
(as told to him by his grandfather Al Scaduto)
The Golden Toilet
A couple is invited to a swanky dinner party. When they arrive, they are blown away: The mansion is immaculate, the wine is free-flowing, the food is top-notch, everything is perfect.
Toward the end of the night, when everyone has consumed a fair share of wine, the husband excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
When he gets back, he tells his wife, “Sadie, I knew the people who lived here were rich, but you have no idea!”
Sadie replies, “What do you mean?”
“The bathroom, you have to see it, they have golden toilets! Literally made of gold!”
Sadie doesn’t believe her husband and refuses to go to the bathroom just to look at the toilets. The night goes on and Sadie’s husband keeps insisting that she go to look.
They eventually leave, without Sadie going to look, but the next morning, Sadie’s husband is still going on and on about the golden toilet. Sadie finally gives in and decides they will go back to the mansion to look at the toilet. When the couple arrives at the mansion, they ring the doorbell and the butler answers.
Sadie says, “I am so sorry to interrupt your day, but is the missus of the house available?”
The missus comes to the door and asks, “How can I help you?”
Sadie, extremely apologetic, starts talking. “I’m sorry to be rude, but my husband and I were here last night for the party, which was amazing! Thank you for hosting it; it was great. There is just one thing, though. My husband keeps insisting that you had a golden toilet, and I just had to see it for myself.”
The missus of the house takes a long look at Sadie and her husband, turns around, and yells out, “Hey Morty, I know who shit in your tuba!”
