Warning: HUMOR (but there is a mention of a Yiddish song)

[Lori Cahan-Simon <l_cahan...>]

>
> > Subject: The Parrot
> >
> >
> > > Meyer, a lonely widower, was walking home along Delancy Street
> > > one day wishing something wonderful would happen into his life
> > > when he passed a Pet Store and heard a squawking voice shouting
> > > out in Yiddish:
> > > "Quawwwwk...vus macht du...yeah, du...outside, standing like a
> > > putzel...eh?"
> > >
> > > Meyer rubbed his eyes and ears. Couldn't believe it. The
> > > proprietor sprang out of the door and grabbed Meyer by the sleeve.
> > >
> > > "Come in here, fella, and check out this parrot..."
> > >
> > > Meyer stood in front of an African Grey that cocked his little
> > > head and said: "Vus? Kenst reddin Yiddish?"
> > >
> > > Meyer turned excitedly to the store owner. "He speaks Yiddish?
> > >
> > > "Vuh den? Chinese maybe?"
> > >
> > > In a matter of moments, Meyer had placed five hundred dollars
> > > down on the counter and carried the parrot in his cage away with
> > > him. All night he talked with the parrot. In Yiddish. He told
> > > the parrot about his father's adventures coming to America.
> > > About how beautiful his mother was when she was a young bride.
> > > About his family. About his years of working in the garment
> > > center. About Florida. The parrot listened and commented. They
> > > shared some walnuts. The parrot told him of living in the pet
> > > store, how he hated the weekends. They both went to sleep.
> > >
> > > Next morning, Meyer began to put on his tfillin, all the while,
> > > saying his prayers. The parrot demanded to know what he was
> > > doing and when Meyer explained, the parrot wanted some too.
> > > Meyer went out and hand-made a miniature set of tfillin for the
> > > parrot. The parrot wanted to learn to daven and learned every
> > > prayer. He wanted to learn to read Hebrew so Meyer spent weeks
> > > and months, sitting and teaching the parrot, teaching him Torah.
> > >
> > > In time, Meyer came to love and count on the parrot as a friend
> > > and a Jew. He had been saved.
> > >
> > > One morning, on Rosh Hashona, Meyer rose and got dressed and was
> > > about to leave when the parrot demanded to go with him. Meyer
> > > explained that Shul was not place for a bird but the parrot made
> > > a terrific argument and was carried to Shul on Meyer's shoulder.
> > > Needless to say, they made quite a spectacle, and Meyer was
> > > questioned by everyone, including the Rabbi and Cantor. They
> > > refused to allow a bird into the building on the High Holy Days
> > > but Meyer convinced them to let him in this one time, swearing
> > > that parrot could daven.
> > >
> > > Wagers were made with Meyer. Thousands of dollars were bet (even
> > > odds) that the parrot could NOT daven, could not speak Yiddish or
> > > Hebrew, etc.
> > >
> > >
> > > All eyes were on the African Grey during services. The parrot
> > > perched on Meyer's shoulder as one prayer and song passed - Meyer
> > > heard not a peep from the bird. He began to become annoyed,
> > > slapping at his shoulder and mumbling under his breath, "Daven!"
> > >
> > > Nothing.
> > >
> > > "Daven...parrot, you can daven, so daven...come on, everybody's
> > > looking at you to Daven!"
> > >
> > > Nothing.
> > >
> > > After Rosh Hashanah services were concluded, Meyer found that he
> > > owed his Shul buddies and the Rabbi over four thousand dollars.
> > > He marched home, pissed off, saying nothing. Finally several
> > > blocks from the temple the bird began to sing an old Yiddish song
> > > and was happy as a lark. Meyer stopped and looked at him. "You
> > > miserable bird, you cost me over four thousand dollars. Why?
> > > After I made your tfillin and taught you the morning prayers, and
> > > taught you to read Hebrew and the Torah. And after you begged me
> > > to bring you to Shul on Rosh Hashona, why? Why did you do this
> > > to me?"
> > >
> > > "Don't be a schmuck," the parrot replied. "Think of the odds on
> > > Yom Kippur!"
> > > -
> > >
> >
> >

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