Hebonics

bu--the oo in good
bel--bul, but a very short sound--more like the le in bubble
eh--a as in the article, not the letter

Thank you, bubeleh!

Happy Chanukah to all. It's not too late. It lasts eight days. It counts as long as I say Happy Chanukah before it's over.

Get with the latkes and the dreidl and the menorah and the candles and enjoy.

You should all live and be well.

Chag Urim Sameach*, bubeleh!



Oh & the same to you, Roberta!





* I had to do a little online research to figure out how to say that!
(I know it's not Hebonics.)

It's not Hebonics and it's not Purim. I'm talking Chanukah.

Don't worry, bubele. Your had the best of intentions, and that's what counts. Your heart's in the right place. A mensch.

Yiddish-shmiddish!
Like Hebonics can get you a job?
Accchh-- don't get me started. You kids give me such tsoris!
You should get off your tuchas and get a job already.
Such a bum you are - just like your brother. (May all his kids grow up to be just like him.)

But bubeleh, I was lead to believe that Chanukah was the festival of lights.

And that Chag Urim Sameach meant (in Hebrew) "Happy Festival of Lights".

Have I been led astray by underhanded, unreliable internet sources?
Again?!
How dare they!

Anyway, whatever message I conveyed to you, bubeleh, happy Chanukah,!

Happy Chanukah, Roberta!

(Why the different spellings? Chanukah? Hanukkah? Drives me crazy every year.)

The menorah I like.

The latkes, I love.

The dreidl, not so much. My daughter wants to play it again and again. And then again. Me, I'm done after maybe four rounds, maybe. And that's even if I get the elusive gimel.

So I came up with a bizarre idea for a part time job. Why am I posting it on this thread? Because it would involve hebonics.

With my high mastery of hebonic skills (she said modestly) I could rent myself out to kosher restaurants as a "Jewish mother." They could advertise that they had a Jewish mother on site for schmoozing and noodging. What do you think?

Possible dialogue with diner:

Me: Clean your plate, bubbeleh. People in (fill in the blank) are starving.
She: I'm not hungry.
Me. You're all skin and bone, dahling. You'll break my heart if you don't eat.
She: I'm full.
Me: Mammaleh, I didn't walk all the way over here with my feet to be dismissed. (A Jewish mother has to make you feel guilty.)
She: Sorry. I'll take it home.
Me: Good idea. You shouldn't waste food. So let me see that rock.
She: (holds out hand with diamond engagement ring)
Me: A nice stone. Fine setting. 14 or 18 karat? Or maybe platinum? He's a good provider? Your mother is probably kvelling all over your hometown.

etc.

Poifect!

Me: You're not hungry? So hold it in your mouth. It's good for you.

Close your mouth already!!! Who wants a woman who shows her tonsils when she holds food in her mouth? No man, that's which man! What kind of mother you make them think I am!?

Do you guys think that this job idea has some potential?

They're so busy schmoozing, they didn't answer the question. Kids these days.

I just read it. Great idea. You'd go far. It wouldn't even have to be stand up comedy, more the sit down type. Sit down and schmooze already.

Don't forget the sighing.
There should be, at the end of any answer to a question, a pause, a little sigh, then a longer pause and a deeper sigh.

Man: I'm a doctor.
You: (pause, little sigh, paussssse, deep sigh) Is that any way to make a living these days?

Woman: I think the beef brisket is a little tough.
You( pause, sigh, pause, deep exhalation) Well, at these prices, can you really be sure it's even beef?

Joe(also hold your hands in front of you, fingers intertwined)Nation

I truly don't know if it has potential.

Maybe as a secret (until the end) comedy act at sophisticated bar and bat mitzvahs?

Schvitzing.

Schvitzing you shouldn't know from.

Schvitzing that has everything wet.

Wet hair.

Wet shmatta (for hanging out at home).

Wet pillow.

Wet body creases.

Schvitz in eyes.

Wet glasses.

Schvitzing an ocean. I'm waiting for saltwater fish to show up and take up residence.

Hot enough for ya?

I have a childhood memory of it being 100 degrees in the Bronx and 100% humidity; it said so on tv. I suppose it rained thereafter, or maybe not. We didn't have a window air conditioner. Our neighbor across the apartment block did - which may be why one of my childhood memories is going to play with that woman's shoes in her closet.

No hebonic word to say about that.

Edits - I've never had air conditioning in an abode, and in only one car, and not my present one. It has it, but has never worked (long story). We do have swamp coolers here, which I like, eco wise. They don't take the temp down very far though, maybe four degrees.

I am crabbier and lazier than usual when it is very warm.

Osso, I don't run the AC because it pushes the electric bill too high. Way too high.

I've got fans. They're fine for sitting and not moving. But walking across the room causes schvitzing. Going to the bathroom. Ditto. Getting something to eat. Ditto.

Just got back from errands. Drenched. I was outta some important stuff. Toilet paper. Milk. Pepsi. Ketchup. Such life staples cannot be put off indefinitely.

Recovering. And it's not as hot today as it was the last few days. But the humidity lingers. I walked out of the supermarket and my glasses steamed up!

I bet there's humidity in hell--if there's a hell.

My plants seem happy.