To which he replied, "Lady, I'm in sales, not management...."

You may recall the late Stanley W. Zublinsky of Port Royale, OK, who--in 1935--invented the first stainless steel, multi-purpose waffle iron.

Stanley's creation took off like hot cakes.  He made millions and went public, Zublinsky Enterprises.  The company was sold to a large conglomerate, leaving Stan with large amounts of cash and time.  He ran for office numerous times, all unsuccessful--even his candidacy for Oklahoma Superintendent of Documents.

Still, Stanley Zublinsky wanted a legacy that went beyond the waffle iron, which no longer was associated with his name or defunct company.  He approached some of the world leaders in a financially strapped area of the world regarding his desire to be remembered, and their need for hard cash.

Would the Republic of Afgan, for example, be willing to adopt Stanley Zublinsky's name in exchange for American dollars?  Afgan would become Afganizublinsky.  That was too much even for the poorest of nations.  But a compromise was struck, based on his first name.  The rest, of course, is history.  Also geography. 

"Actually," she said, "one of my ancestors was present at the presentation of the document to the Congress."

"How very nice." replied Morris the florist. "One of my mine was present at the presentation of the Ten Commandments to the world."

Morty Rosenthal is a new member of the Golden Goose retirement community, and is passing the morning sunning himself on a bench near the garden. Rebecca, out for her morning constitutional, sees Morty, and says "Do you mind?"

"Not at all" Morty says.

So Rebecca sits down on the opposite end of his bench.
"So nu, you're new here?" Rebecca asks rhetorically.
"Yes" Morty affims.
"So nu, you are from where?" Rebecca inquires.
"Washington" Morty answers.
"The capitol or the state?" asks Rebecca.
"The state" replies Morty.
"So nu, how old are you?" Rebecca asks.
"I'll be 72 in October." Morty replies.
Not yet satisfied with the answers,  Rebecca presses on with "What did you do in Washington?"
"I was in prison" Morty retorts.
"Oy vey! Really?" says Rebecca. "What were you in prison for?"
"My wife of twenty years was always asking stupid questions, so I murdered her and put her down the garbage disposal" he says.
"Sooo," purrs Rebecca, "you're single?"

"Before I begin my sermon (talk), I must make a confession. It is not really a confession, because you have already begun to realize that I have a soft, quiet voice. To be honest: IT PUTS PEOPLE TO SLEEP. And why not? A fifteen minute snooze might help a congregant far more than anything else I can do for him or her.

However, I really object when the president of my congregation always falls asleep within two minutes of my starting the sermon. Once, I challenged him: "Max, WHY do you always fall asleep as soon as I begin to preach?" "Rabbi," he said firmly, "I trust you."

Source:  Rabbi Albert H. Friedlander

The train comes out of the tunnel. The woman and Sharon are sitting there looking perplexed. 

Arafat is bent over holding his face which is red from an apparent slap. 

The old woman is thinking: "Arafat must have tried to kiss that girl and has got slapped."

Arafat is thinking: "Damn it, Sharon must have tried to kiss the girl, she thought it was me and slapped me." 

The girl is thinking: "Arafat must have moved to kiss me, and kissed Sharon instead and got slapped." 

Sharon is thinking, "If this train goes through another tunnel, I could make another kissing sound and slap Arafat again!" 

"David, how can you show up dressed like this at a state dinner.  Think of all the foreign guests who are here."

Ben-Gurion replies, "But, Winston Churchill gave me his permission."

"What do you mean Winston Churchill gave you permission, he's not even here!" says Weizmann.

Ben-Gurion answers with a smile, "Well, when I last visited London, Churchill said to me, 'Mr. Prime Minister, in Israel you may dress that way, but not in London!'" 

The girl then takes out a fan and fans herself. The woman looks up and says, "If you knew what I have, you would give me that fan." The girl gives her the fan.

Fifteen minutes later the woman gets up and says to the bus driver, "Stop, I want to get off here." The bus driver tells her he has to drop her at the next corner, not in the middle of the block. Her hand across her chest, she tells the driver, "If you knew what I have, you would let me out here." The bus driver pulls over and opens the door to let her out. As she's walking out of the bus, he asks, "Madam, what is it you have?"

"Chutzpah," she replies.

"What are they discussing on that Pitcher's mound?"
Ella Rina has explained to us that there are, basically three types of conversations:  

1. The chevruta - This is when the Catcher alone goes to the mound to talk to the Pitcher.
2. The shiur - This is when the manager goes to the mound the first time in an inning.
3. The mussar - This is when the manager goes a second time to the mound. Inevitably, this must be some severe punishment, as this is  immediately followed by the Pitcher leaving the game. Typically, Pitchers try to avoid the mussar.

In the top of the third, the Mets Catcher went to the mound for a chevruta:

Pitcher: So, nu? Vat's de matter now?

Catcher: Listen, I just want to tell you that you should Pitch no higher than 1 amah out of the strike zone, because even bedi'eved (by leniency), the umpire won't call it a strike. And try to speed up your Pitchers so we can all get out of here before sof z'man kriyat shema (end of time for reciting Shema), OK?

Ella Rina explained what goes through a Pitcher's head between Pitchers. Have you noticed he walks around the mound too much, picks up the rozin bag, drops it, rubs his hands, chews tobacco, spits, scratches himself, all before he finally throws a ball to home plate? What is going on all this time?

E.R. explains that the Pitcher is contemplating a tough sugya (section) of the Talmud. The walking around the mound is to fulfill the precept, "vehalachta bidrachav."

"Thou shalt walk in his path." The Pitcher would rather himself walk in His path than walk the batter to first base! The use of the rosin bag is an allusion to the children of Israel all united in one place. The baseball field is partially made of sand thus resembling Israel as the "sands of the Earth", thus scattered about. The rosin bag represents the collection of these scattered grains in one place forming unity and thus, controlling the destiny of the game. After all, the game cannot continue until the Pitcher Pitches the ball! The tobacco chewing and spitting is simply because the Pitcher gets hungry on the mound. Since the mound may be considered a makom (place of) tum'ah (unclean), the Pitcher cannot make a bracha (blessing) prior to eating. Hence, by chewing tobacco and spitting it out, he is not really eating, thus he need not make a bracha.The scratching minhag (custom) originated from a mistranslation of a Yiddish word.

Many years ago, when Sandy Kofax was losing a game, and things looked bleak, he went off the mound and began to krechtz (sigh), "Oy vey! Vat a day! How do I make this batter strike away?" From there came the expression, and rule, "A Pitcher who is in trouble should krechtz to relieve his frustrations." However, as Kofax passed on, and got into The Hall of Fame, people started to say, "A Pitcher who is in trouble should kratz (scratch) to relieve his frustrations." Thus, came about the custom to scratch rather than to sigh. E.T. explains that the reason the Pitcher keeps nodding his head "yes" and "no" is that he is contemplating the result of a makhloket (dispute) and it takes him some time to decide which Rabbi might be right. Occasionally, the Pitcher really cannot decide, as E.T. discovered the other night when there was an "expanded" chevruta. The first baseman joined in together with the Catcher on the mound. 1st base: "Hey guys? What's the problem.

Catcher: Now, I thought I told you what the signals mean. Index finger means Bet Shamai, Pinkie means Bet Hillel." 

Pitcher: Oh, was that it? I thought the index finger meant Hashem is watching and the pinkie meant "let's have fleishigs (meat) after the game!"

1st base: "No, you shmendrik and a half! The index means throw a fastball and the pinkie means that the Catcher has an itch on his index but can't get his finger out of the glove. Got that? Meanwhile, the yoompar (umpire) has joined in on the chevruta also.

Yoomp: "Hey! You guys are taking too long! My wife said not to come home so late because I'll miss tikun chatzot (midnight prayer). Let's get on with the game, OK?"

Sometimes, E.T. says, it's hard to tell the difference between the expanded chevruta and a shiur. The difference, of course, is that a shiur always involves the manager, where the chevruta never does. Problem is, sometimes the manager TELLS the players to make an expanded chevruta, in which case, technically, this is a shiur, but not really. E.T. refers to this as a "syag leshiur" (building a "fence" around the shiur). I just prefer to call it an excuse! In the 8th inning, it seems that the Giants Pitcher got into some trouble. They were one run up, but had the Mets fastest runner in scoring position. A shiur occurred on the mound.

Manager to Pitcher: Now, we're taking dinner orders. We decided we're going for Chinese food tonight.

Pitcher: But I prefer chulent!

Mgr: I'm sorry, but we've had enough chulent the last few nights! Now, you better tell me now, you want Moo Goo Gribenes (chicken fat, with the hardened skins) or Sweet and Sour Egg Kichel? (The only "mop" and "shovel" good enough for pickled herring onions. A necessity when you run out of toothpicks!)

Pitcher: I don't know. Let me get this last guy out, and I'll let you know in the dugout between innings, OK?

Mgr: OK, but you better finish it soon, 'cause the boychiks ("dem bums!") here are getting mighty hungry. Well, it seems that the thought of food made the Pitcher lose concentration. He not only walked the next batter to load the bases, but he had a wild Pitcher, and walked the next two after that. This was far more than the manager and the dug-out-chiks could tolerate.Mgr: OK, what's the problem. Why did you allow three men to score?

Pitcher: I'm sorry, I was hungry. You know, I was thinking about getting Liver Lomein with an Egg Keichel Roll.

Mgr: Are you meshugah? You were hungry? That's what cost us three runs??? You were hungry? Get outta here and get the whole team some food! The whole dugout is hungry! Come on! Give me the ball! (Oy! He was hungry! Ah nechtigeh tog! ("Why didn't I trade him yesterday?")) Well, now that you have some idea of why baseball games take so long, I would suggest that next time you go to the park or stadium you might want to take a Ramba"m (Maimonedes explanation). I have a feeling he might explain what the BATTERS do when they step out of the batter's box between Pitchers.

Until then, this is Ella Rina and Ella Tfillah saying if you understood this, then you're a Maven.

"Well Mildred, how are the kids?"

"To tell you the truth, my Daniel has married a slut! She doesn't get out of bed until 11. She's out all day spending his money on Heaven knows what, and when he gets home, exhausted, does she have a nice hot dinner for him? Psha! She makes him take her out to dinner at an expensive restaurant."

"And Layla?"

"Ah! Layla has married a saint. He brings her breakfast in bed, he gives her enough money to buy all she needs, and in the evening he takes her out to dinner at a nice smart restaurant."

"What denomination?" asked the clerk.

"Oh, good heavens! Have we come to this?" replied the woman. "Well, give me
50 Conservative, 2 Orthodox, and 37 Reform ones."

You must remember this,
A bris is still a bris,
A chai is just a chai.
Pastrami still belongs on rye,
As time goes by.

With holidays in view,
A Jew is still a Jew,
On that you can rely.
No matter if we eat tofu
As time goes by.

Old shtetl customs, never out of date.
All those potatoes someone has to grate.
One flame in the window,
keep counting till there's eight
To light the winter sky.

In the Bronx or in the Mission,
It's still the same tradition,
That no one can deny.
We roam, but we recall our birthright,
As time goes by.

Dreidels and chocolate, never out of date.
Ancient Semitic glories to relate.
Blue-and-white giftwrap, ain't this country great,
And festive chazerai!

It's still the same old Torah,
It's still the same menorah,
We've latkes still to fry.
December's when I feel most Jewish,
As time goes by.