Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

This is a story about the first Jewish president of the United States.

One day, his mother calls him on the telephone.

"Bernie, tomorrow is Hanukkah, I want you should come home and be with the family."

"But Ma, I'm the president of the United States. I can't get away. I've got too many things to attend to. But why don't you come down here for the holiday?"

"No, it's too much trouble. I'm not so young anymore. I'd have to clean up the apartment, stop delivery of the newspapers, pack up and it would be a real rush."

"Ma, ! I'm the president of the USA. I'll send some of my aides and they'll take care of everything for you. You won't have to lift a finger."

"OK, but then I'd have to book a reservation on a flight and I know I'll never get a seat one day before Hanukkah."

"But Ma, I'm the president of the USA. I'll send Air Force One to pick you up and fly you down here. You'll travel first class."

"OK, but then I'll have to schlep from the airport into the city, the taxi service in Washington is terrible, and I'm afraid of the subway."

"Ma, Ma, I'm the president of the USA. I'll have my helicopter pick you up at the airport and bring you straight into the city."

"OK, but then I'll need to get a hotel room and they are so expensive and you know how I hate hotels."

"Ma, I'm the president of the USA. You'll stay at the White House and sleep in Lincoln's bedroom."

"Well, OK. I guess I'll come."

So, it was finally settled. The president's mother was scheduled to leave for DC the next morning to celebrate Hanukkah with her son.

A few minutes after she hung up from her son, her friend Minnie called: "So what are you doing for Hanukkah?"

"I am going to spend it with my son."

"Your son the doctor?"

"No, the other one."

x five

I always tell one too many jokes.

Flash Back
She told me this the night we stayed up talking all night. Me eating moldy rye and ergot sandwhich. She clueless with a glass of hot tea and a piece of schmaltz herring. So we became the best of friends again
This about ten years after November 22, 1963

when I snapped out of it and started writting haiku

suicide by matircide
the warmth of her throat
the look on her face.



here is the joke

and she told me this joke
which makes me want to laugh and cry


It seems there was a terrible crime. A Jewish boy had murdered his mother. He then ripped her heart out and went running and screaming down the street. He tripped on crack in the sidewalk and fell to his knees. And his mother's heart said to him, "Oi Vey, did you hurt yourself son?"