After five and a half years, I have decided to end this Oy Vey column. I have greatly enjoyed writing for the Link, which has blossomed into an impressive publication and a tremendous asset to the community. I also am very grateful to the Link for publishing the lunacy offered in this Oy Vey column, though one might ask: who is the bigger lunatic, the one who writes the lunacy or the one who publishes it? Discuss.
In this column, I have never written about myself but I will address one very minor personal note: I share the same last name as Jacob ben Wolf Kranz of Dubno, a/k/a The Dubno Maggid (1741-1804). The Dubno Maggid was famous for using fables and parables to teach important lessons. His storytelling was legendary and has been an inspiration for some of the tales that I have tried to weave, though my stories were completely devoid of important lessons or anything else important.
I began this column by writing about food, with articles like Latke Laughs, Cholent Chuckles and Gefilte Giggles. Some of the inspiration came from the Talmud, which has plenty to say about food. It tells us that “[t]here are three matters which, when one prolongs their duration, they extend a person’s days and years… [including] one who prolongs his mealtime at the table… “ (Berachot 54b) Thus, eating slowly is a good idea, unless you are dining on a sinking ship.
The Talmud further tells us that “[g]reat is eating…for it distances the near… and draws near the distant….” (Sanhedrin 103) For example, if you are eating the insanely malodorous durian fruit, then eating will distance those who are near. The Talmud also has some very specific advice about bread: “… [O]ne may not throw bread, and one should not prop up a dish with a piece of bread.” (Berachot 50b) Does this statement make pizza dough tossing and bread bowls problematic? The Talmud cautions that “[o]ne who eats in the marketplace is comparable to a dog… And some say he is even disqualified from bearing witness.” (Kiddushin 40b) That is sensible because barking does not make for compelling testimony.
This Oy Vey column was intended to be lighthearted and the Talmud also has plenty to say about humor. It notes that a 4th century sage known as the Rabbah used humor as an opener: “Before he began teaching halacha to the Sages, he would say some humorous comment, and the Sages would be cheered.” (Pesachim 117a and Shabbat 30b) We do not know exactly what jokes the Rabbah told but they probably were more erudite than: “A rabbi, a chazzan and a mohel walk into a bar mitzvah….”
The Talmud further notes that “one should be joyful before stating a matter of halacha.” (Pesachim 117a) This is consistent with a separate statement in the Talmud about the value of humor: “Rabbi Beroka went over to the men and said to them: What is your occupation? They said to him: We are jesters, and we cheer up the depressed… It is said that for this behavior one enjoys the profits of his actions in this world, and yet his reward is not diminished in the World-to-Come.”(Taanit 22a) Taken together, it is clear that even the Sages understood that a Levite and levity can coexist (and that it is permissible to turn “oy vey” into “joy yay!”).
The Talmud itself also appears to contain a joke or two. For instance, it states: “[F]rom the time when Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi died, humility and fear of sin ceased. Rav Yosef said to the tanna who reviewed the mishna: Do not teach that humility ceased, for there is still one who is humble, namely me.” (Sotah 49b) Bragging about one’s humility is like blabbing about one’s discretion.
According to the Talmud, some say that “[a] person also reveals his real nature in his laughter.” (Eruvin 65) This comports with a separate Talmudic comment regarding the benefits of laughter: “Tears that come from medicinal drugs, and from laughter, and from sharp produce are good for the eyes.” (Shabbat 151b—152a). This suggests that ophthalmologists should perform stand-up comedy routines while their patients dice raw onions.
From the outset, my goal for this Oy Vey column was to be more super silly than supercilious, more witty than “nitwit-y” and more humdinger than humdrum. I deeply appreciate the positive comments and support from the Link’s staff and readership throughout the years. Now, instead of reading this Oy Vey column, you all can spend your time on far more productive, meaningful and enjoyable endeavors like banging your head against a wall.
Todah, shalom and lehitraot.
One last time: Oy vey!
Feel free to harass me at [email protected].
By Jon Kranz
