Some seventy years ago in the Bronx there was a significant Jewish population. In that most hailed from Eastern Europe, Yiddish was common lingua franca. This was evidenced by the existence of three major Yiddish newspapers, a Yiddish theater, and the invention of pastrami and its introduction as a staple to the deli world.

An announcment excited this Yiddish speaking population that the great Yiddisher actor Boris Tamashevsky was to give a performance at Clinton High School in the Bronx on Saturday. Excitement was in the air and the auditorium filled, including the balcony, even standing room was at a premius. When the scheduled performance was 15 min. late in starting the crowd became impatient, stamping feet, clapping hands rythmically, whistling, etc. Finally the promoter of this event took the stage and made a tearful announcement to the throng, effectively silencing them:

"It pains me to announce the great Tamashevsky has incurred a miocardial enfarction back stage and has expired."

The stunned silence was broken by a voice from the balcony, "So give him an enema?"

The frustrated announcer said, "Perhaps you didn't understand, I said Boris Tamashevsky had a heart attack and died!!!"

Again the voice, "So give him an enema."

The announcer: "He's dead, do you think that's going to help?"

The voice, "Couldn't hurt."

So, with apology to Leo Rosten, I'm taking the advice of the voice in the balcony. I bought a case and plan use, even though a "little dab'l do ya" simply because, it "couldn't hurt."

Publius