CHAPTER TWO

PLEASE G-D DON'T EVER STOP LAUGHING

After receiving so much encouragement and support from many of my friends and family for presenting the humorous side of Reb Shlomo Carlebach zt"l, ready or not here is the second chapter of anecdotes and humorous moments I had the privilege to share with my Holy Rebbe. This chapter is mentioned in the first introduction as jokes I told my Rebbe and got him to laugh, and a few additional humorous incidents with Reb Shlomo.

Most special thanks to my Creator who made me crazy enough to do such a thing. My fervent prayer is that just as G-d is smiling down upon us, may we give Him reason to smile even wider. This chapter is dedicated to the One in whose image we are made. Therefore the chapter is called, Please G-d, Don't Ever Stop Laughing.

May the souls of all those who have departed from this world but did not die laughing be lifted up to the world which is all joy and love.

Last but not least, I dedicate these jokes to my Holy Rebbe, Reb Shlomo, the son of Naftali and Pesia, who left this world with song on his lips. It is also dedicated to my holy mother Rivka OB"M, the daughter of Zeev Volf and Hinda, who left this world on a Friday night as I was privileged to sit beside her together with my brother Reb Zeev, singing the verses of Eishes Chayil, A Woman of Valor, by King Solomon.

Apology

I apologize to anyone whom these jokes may offend. My sole intention is to add a few moments of laughter in the world.

Reb Shlomo once taught us in the name of the Kotzker Rebbe, that the wholest thing in the world is a broken heart. Rebbe Shlomo added to this and told us this is true only if our own heart is broken, but not if a person breaks someone else's heart. I humbly added that if two broken hearts come together and laugh then the broken pieces become one.

I pray that we heal each other through laughter and joy but never at the expense of the other. So please G-d, never stop laughing with us so we may mend each other's broken hearts.
* *                   *

Reb Shlomo not only loved laughing at his own jokes but was never too busy to hear a good joke. How often I remember him repeating the same joke to many different crowds - he always told us who told it to him, as if it were Torah from Mount Sinai and therefore, as in learning, he quoted his source. Well I guess I can quote myself then -- especially if nobody else will!

We were in the Hilton Hotel in Jerusalem, eating a sumptuous breakfast. As we walked outside it began raining and got very windy. Reb Shlomo began to speak in his dreamy voice, quite nonchalantly considering the weather conditions: "You know Dovid'l, I was just in Bologna, Italy, last week." So I said: "No kidding, what else is new?" He said: "There was such a rain and wind, this is already not so bad." I said: "Thank G-d we're not in Bologna!" I figured as long as the rain and wind were not so bad we had some time for a few Italian jokes. So I said: "Rebbe, do you know the difference between an Italian mother and a Jewish mother?" Reb Shlomo, of course, always there for you, smiled and said: "Gevalt Dovid'l, what's the difference?" I said: "An Italian mother says to her kid, 'If you don'ta eata youra soupa , I'ma gonna killa you.' The Jewish mother says, 'If you don't eat your soup, I'm going to kill myself!'" We were laughing in the rain. Yes, laughing in the rain.... what a wonderful feeling, yes, laughing in the rain!

At this point I figured that I might as well go for one more, so I said, "Rebbe, do you know what the difference is between an Arab terrorist and a Jewish mother?" The Rebbe once again played the straight Rabbi. "Dovid'l, gevaldt, I really don't know!" So I told him. "With an Arab terrorist there's a chance you can bargain!".

At every joke the rain and wind kept reminding us that we weren't in Bologna, so I figured I would go for broke and tell the Rebbe one of my favorites that I had heard from my good friend Reb Fred.

For a few years, Luigi had been working for one of the big Mafioso bosses in Chicago. One day Luigi said, "Hey, boss I gotta  cousin in the old country who is a good accountant. Maybe you can bring him over from the old country and he can do your books for you." The boss agreed, but made one stipulation -- "if I find out he's doing monkey business with the books, I'm gonna kill him." Luigi assured him that everything was going to be fine. Two years passed by peacefully until one fateful day Luigi was called into the boss's office. "Hey Luigi, you're cousin is in big trouble. The books have been checked and there's two million dollars missing. If it's not in front of my nose in half an hour your cousin is gonna be fitted into a cement suit!" Luigi ran to his cousin and begged him to tell him where the money was hidden. The cousin refused adamantly, and Luigi grabbed him by the neck. "Don't you get it? The boss is gonna kill you if you don't give up the cash!" Convinced by this gentle persuasion, the cousin mournfully told Luigi that the whole two million was hidden under the porch. "Thank G-d," said Luigi, "you smartened up and saved your life." Luigi ran back to the boss with the good news. "Hey boss," he said, "he's never gonna tell you where he hid the money. I'm real sorry. I tried."

By this time the wind and rain were getting closer to Bologna dimensions. But our laughter was as loud as the wind, so I figured I was on a roll. I brought out the heavy ammunition -- one of my father's favorite jokes that kept my mother, brother, and I rolling in laughter on many a Friday night. The joke itself is not that funny but my father's Italian accent was the best. We always laughed as much during the telling of the joke as we did at the punchline. I said, "Holy Rebbele do you think you can handle one of my father's favorites?" He said: "Dovid'l, if it's good enough for your holy father, how can I refuse? Lay it on me brother."

An Italian father storms into the house and demands of his children, "OK, which one of you pushed the outhouse over the cliff?" No one answered, but the littlest one was shivering in his pants. His father said sternly: "You all heard of George De Wash, the firsta president? George de Wash's father asked: 'Who chopped down the cherry tree?' His father was so proud that George told him the truth. He gave him a big kiss and George de Wash grew up to be the first President of the United States. I'm going to ask you again: Who pushed the outhouse over the cliff?" The little boy stopped shaking and proudly stood up. "I cannot tell a lie, my father. I pushed the outhouse over the cliff." His father grabbed him and beat him mercilessly. The poor boy cried bitterly and whined: "Why did you beat me up? You told me George de Wash's father kissed George and he grew up to be President of the United States!" His father answered: "That's true, my son, but George de Wash's father wasn't in the cherry tree when George chopped it down!"

Reb Shlomo was luckily spared from another joke as a cab pulled up at that moment. We jumped in, and of course it immediately stopped raining and the sun came out. I turned to Reb Shlomo and said: "How's the sun in Bologna?" He replied: "OK, but please, no more Italian jokes for awhile." Oh, well. That's Amore.
* *                   *

Sitting at a poolside with Reb Shlomo was always a refreshing treat. Somehow, despite his marathon schedule, he found time to take a swim almost every day. It was usually for only about twenty minutes but, as the Rebbe often related, the Holy Sanzer Rebbe would only sleep a total of one and three quarter hours in a twenty-four hour period. When he was asked how he could survive on so little sleep, he answered, "Sages are able to learn in a few moments what the layman can take years to understand. A sage is able to do everything at blinding speed. So thank G-d I'm able to sleep very fast." Our Reb Shlomo did everything very fast but somehow it didn't make one feel rushed but rather calmed. On this occasion the Rebbe was swimming very fast and afterward we took a five minute break on the beach chairs. I was looking at the rippling water and then when I stared into the Rebbe's beautiful brown eyes I remembered the following joke. "Rebbe!" I exclaimed, "here's a beach joke..."

Once there was an old Jewish Bubbie (grandmother) sitting on the beach with her one and only grandson. A big tidal wave came and swept this little boy out of her arms out into the depths of the sea. Reb Shlomo, who always encouraged even my sick jokes said: "Gevalt, what happened to him?" So I told him. "The Bubie got up and lifted her hands toward heaven in prayer and this is what she said. 'Master of the Universe, this is my only grandson. I'm begging you to bring him back to my arms.' Just then a big tidal wave came and brought the little einakel, her grandson, back to the Bubie's arms. Instead of simply being thrilled, she looked at her grandson and scolded him: 'I'm very disappointed in you, I was afraid this was going to happen one day! I sent you out with a yarmulka (skull cap)!"

Reb Shlomo's yarmulka almost fell off his head, he laughed so hard. But luckily I had the sense to calm him down, saying "Please Reb Shlomo, don't worry, I was only joking!"
* *                   *

As I mentioned in the first chapter, one of Reb Shlomo's favorite lines was "I never lie between the hours of two and four."

There was a time that I was living in a 6th floor apartment on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem. Reb Shlomo would often grace our humble abode, to offer teachings, and participate in engagement parties and Sheva Brachos (Seven blessings of the wedding week). The little living room always seemd to expand to hold more people than we could ever imagine would come, and the transcendence of time and space became the norm. At the close of one such occasion in the blessed year of 1984, there were four of us left in my humble bedroom and we were reminiscing about songs Shlomo had written. Suddenly Shlomo started playing a beautiful song called Veyivtechu Bicha (They shall Trust in You). When he finished, he told us, "This was the third song I ever wrote in the blessed year of 1959. I never recorded it but I hope to one day soon, G-d willing." His dream came true, as this song is the last recording he made, to commemorate the missing Israeli soldiers. It is part of a beautiful two volume musical album called "Sweetest Friends". This was how Reb Shlomo referred to all of us - we were all his sweetest friends, we were each his holiest brother and sister, and of course we were all the best. As Reb Shlomo walked out of my bedroom at about three thirty AM, he left us with these words: "Holy brothers and sisters, there was once this Jew that proudly announced to everyone that he is the grandson of the great and revered Tzaddik (righteous man), the holy Dovair Shekarin, 'the one who speaks lies.'" We were already laughing but then Shlomo hit us with the punchline: "There were two Yidden (Jews) standing close by. One turned to the other and said, "The truth is, he's so humble that he just says that it's his grandfather, but really he himself is the holy liar!"

I know it's hard to believe but this is really a true story and besides, I never lie between the hours of two and four!
* *                   *

It was Friday night at the Moshav, and the Rebbe was going strong. We were all in the synogogue that was exquisitely painted by the famed artist Reb Yitschak ben Yehuda. He and his wife Rivka had been on the Moshav for some twenty years, ever since the school bus they were living in broke down. Sitting in this beautiful Shul (synogogue) with Reb Shlomo was truly a taste of the Garden of Eden. The teaching and the prayers went on for hours, and It was almost midnight by the time we got to 'Shalom Aleichem,' welcoming in the Shabbos angels. It seems the angels had a worthwhile wait as Reb Shlomo sang slowly and melodiously, swaying back and forth with his eyes toward heaven.

The holy Kiddush wine was flowing freely but our Rebbe gently taught us that the whole world drank in order to forget, but we Yidden drink wine to remember. The main thing, he said was that, G-d forbid, a person should never get drunk on Shabbos; but then he reminded us that we have to be drunk from Shabbos. So, too, we drink wine under the wedding canopy to remind ourselves that we should be drunk with love for each other. We ate, drank and sang for hours, and I don't remember anyone getting drunk. But we were certainly flying high that Shabbos. By the time we stood in front of Reb Shlomo's house on the Moshav I couldn't tell anymore what I was drunk from, but it seemed like an appropriate moment to tell one of my favorite jokes. I'd heard it from my good friend Reb. Fred.

Once there was a guy who went into a bar and ordered two scotches on the rocks. The bartender brought him a double scotch on the rocks. The guy started complaining saying, 'I ordered two single shots, not one double shot.' The bartender took back the double scotch, muttered something under his breath and brought back two single shots. They guy drank the first one and then crank the second one, saying 'cheers!' Now this wenton for a month, and the bartender finally said to himself, 'I can't take it anymore. I have to ask this guy what's going on.' So the next night he said to the guy, "Hey Buddy, I know it's none of my business but could you tell me why you have to drink two single scotches everyday at the exact same time, five o'clock?" The guy started getting nostalgic. "Well, Joe, I'll tell you the truth. I have a buddy I served with in the army in Vietnam, and when we got out of Nam, he joined the Navy. We swore to each other that every day at five PM, werever we were, we would both drink two scotches on the rocks and say 'cheers'; I do it twice, once for him and once for me. And he says 'cheers' twice, once for me and once for him. And that's the reason." After the guy left the bar, Joe the bartender turned to his regular customers, and with a tear in his eye he told of this guy's story to everybody. "Can you imagine? His buddy is out in the middle of the sea and he's here and the both of them are always connected, toasting each other and themselves. That's just so touching." By this time just about everyone at the bar was crying. Now this two-drink ritual continued for another six months until one fateful day the guy came into the bar at 5:00 and ordered one single shot of scotch on the rocks. Joe the bartender began trembling and was afraid to ask what happened to his buddy in the Navy. But the regulars kept signalling to Joe to ask him.

Finally, with trepidation, Joe asked: "Hey, listen, I don't mean to be nosey but I noticed you only ordered one drink. Is your buddy OK?" "Oh yeah," the guy answered, "he's as fine as can be." "Well then," Joe continued, "what's going on? How come you only ordered one drink?" "Oh," said the guy, "that's because I stopped drinking!"

Shlomo laughed hysterically and then said, "Dovid'l, that's a great joke. Where did you hear if?" I said, "where else Reb Shlomo? At the bar!"
* *                   *

On many an occasion Reb Shlomo would quip, "Chevra (friends), you know why we Jews have such a weight problem? It's because we're always waiting! "I waited patiently for many years until I merited telling Reb Shlomo the following true story.

I was at the Dead Sea and thought I was at the spot for an Ivory Soap commercial. I pictured a huge bar of Ivory soap floating above the sea toward heaven. At that moment I spotted what I thought was a Goodyear blimp in the water but when the blimp started talking I realized it was actually a very huge woman floating like there was no tomorrow. Trying to be polite I yelled into the sea, "Hey, what are you doing out there?" She kept yelling something back in German that I couldn't understand. As Divine Providence would have it, a beautiful mermaid looking like a German tourist floated upon the shore. Immediately taking this G-d given opportunity, I asked her if she would be kind enough to translate the cries of the huge woman in the Dead Sea. The young German mermaid burst out laughing and said, She keeps repeating over and over that FAT FLOATS!

I can't forget how Reb Shlomo and I kept laughing till we almost floated away. That's pretty heavy. By the way, can the dead see?
* *                   *

While I was walking with Reb Shlomo in the center of Jerusalem a drunkard approached him. He asked Reb Shlomo for a match to light his cigarette, which was dangling from his mouth. Reb Shlomo apologized profusely for not being able to help him out, saying "I'm so sorry my holy brother but I don't smoke." This looked to me like the perfect time to tell one of my favorite jokes.

Once there was an Italian, a Jew, and a fool who all committed the same crime. They were each sentenced to seven years in jail, but the judge was somewhat compassionate. Seven years is a long time to sit in jail so the court mercifully grants each convict a seven year supply of whatever he desires. The Italian, of course, asked for pasta; the Jew asked for his wife and the fool asked for cigarettes. They all received their wishes. After seven years the cells were opened. The Italian was so fat they had to widen the cell so he could get out. The Jew walks out with his wife, followed by seven little kids. The fool runs out of the cell screaming, "Does anyone have a light?"

Shlomo loved the joke but luckily for me, the drunkard didn't get it. At that moment someone walked by with a lit cigarette in his mouth. The drunk kissed his cigarette to the one in his mouth and hopefully lived happily ever after.
* *                   *

I was wandering the forest of Beit Hakerem in Jerusalem early one morning as the sun was rising. The magic of that moment was broken as I spotted a little piece of newspapaer with a comic strip on it. Thinking I might need this piece of valuable information I bent down to pick it up. It seemed quite absurd to find a comic strip in the middle of the forest, but then again not as absurd as I thought. I read it in a flash, but the laughter in that very serene moment still lingers on. There was only one square in the cartoon and it was a picture of a real cool cat walking into his house backwards. The caption read: "When I've been out partying all night I always walk into my house backwards. Just in case my wife asks me what I'm doing at this hour I smile and and say excuse me but I was just leaving."

I felt a little prophetic at that point and I noticed that just as I finished telling this joke we were standing in front of the tax office. Reb Shlomo and I continued at a very quick pace all the way laughing.
* *                   *

Reb Shlomo loved reminscing about his illustrious family. One time at a tenna'im (engagement), he spoke about his grandmother. "My holy grandmother was the daughter of a Cohen (priest) and also the daughter of a priest's daughter. So it was for many generations in her family. Both sides were Cohanim. My holy grandfather was the first one in many generations that broke that tradition. They got married but it was a bit of an embarrassment for my grandmother. The first time my grandfather, also named Reb Shlomo Carlebach, gave a speech in the Synogogue in Austria my holy grandmother sat in the balcony listening closely to every word. Afterward my grandfather asked my grandmother, Nu, how was the speech. My grandmother, unable to hide her true feelings simply said, 'To tell you the truth for an ordinary Yisrael (non-Cohen) it was OK!'"

Reb Shlomo's whinnying laughter made us feel as if we knew his holy grandparents personally.
* *                   *

One of the Rebbe's followers, a very lonely woman, seemed to track down Reb Shlomo no matter where he was in this world. At all hours of the day, he would inevitably get a phone call from her, be it his hotel room, the Moshav, or a private house, anywhere from Nachos to Mobile, from Marakesh to Montana. The poor Rebbe would always graciously give of his precious time to listen to this woman kvetch, whine and whimper. Once, Reb Shlomo had just finished an all night teaching in someone's private house in Jerusalem. We were all ready to go to the Holy Wall at about two thirty AM. The Rebbe was visibly tired, for a change, and it was obvious that he needed to make a special effort after a day of two concerts and a Tennayim (engagement) and a six hour teaching. (How he kept this unbelievable pace for forty-years-plus is not fathomable.) Just as we were walking slowly out of the house and Reb Shlomo was kissing every person and chatting with them lovingly, of course the phone rang. I answered. Who else? His faithful and lonely follower. I told him who was on the phone and for the first time that I could remember I saw Reb Shlomo shed a tear of despair. "I love her and she's the best but I simply don't have the strength left to listen for a half hour. Please, Dovid'l, you have to help me!" Drawing strength from the patriarchs and matriarchs I got back on the phone and in my most apologetic voice I said, "I'm so sorry darling but Reb Shlomo can only be reached at the Western Wall." This was before the days of cordless phones, and the woman responded, "but I don't have his number at the Western Wall." "Don't worry," I said, "just pray and I'm sure you'll reach him." I hung up and the Rebbe looked at me a bit disappointed for hurting someone's feelings; then he laughed from the inside of the inside and said, "Dovid'l, I'll never forget this, you literally saved my life but let this be the last time." Many times we would laugh together reminiscing about this life-saving moment. Reb Shlomo once asked me: "But Dovid'l where did you come with such an idea?" I said:
"I guess I'm just a little bit off the Wall!"

On the way to the Western Wall I was thinking of Reb Shlomo's love and compassion for every one of G-d's creatures and I remembered that I had to go to the Machane Yehuda market and buy fish for Shabbos. Suddenly this story came to mind.

There was once a follower of the holy Rebbe, RebTsvi Yehuda of Stretten Z"L. He was a fisherman by trade, and one day he caught a very small fish and was very disappointed. Without thinking, he spitefully cut off the tail of this little fish and threw him back in the water. For the next three months he didn't catch one fish. In the good old days a person went to visit the Rebbe for any and every reason. This follower went to the Rebbe to ask him why he wasn't catching fish any more. Before he could ask the question, the Rebbe asked him: "Tell me, have you ever done anything weird to a fish?" The fisherman answered, "Of course not." The Rebbe asked him again, "About three months ago, did you do anything weird to a little fish?" His follower suddenly remembered the incident and confessed to his hideous crime. The Rebbe began to cry and said: "This little fish was so embarrassed to be tailless that he begged his friends to hide with him under this big rock. They've been hiding there for all this time because of what you've done. You must realize that the 'honor of anyone of G-d's creatures must never be taken lightly.' If you promise never, ever to do anything like this again, I will reveal to you where they are hiding."

I started laughing just thinking about this story and as if he could read my thoughts, Reb Shlomo said to me : "I hope we didn't hurt the feelings of that woman who called. You know, she really has no one in the world. I hope she's OK." He paused and then asked: "But what were you laughing about?" I decided not to tell the fisherman story so as not to cause anguish for the Rebbe, so at that moment G-d revealed to me a one liner about fish. I said: "Reb Shlomo, have you heard about this guy who is planning to open a fish restaurant that serves Leviathan on the Temple Mount? The Rebbe took the cue, smiling, and said:
"Really, what's it going to be called?" I nonchalantly said: "The Walling Whale." We laughed all the way to the Holy Wall, where I noticed that the Rebbe stood very close to the Wall, praying and crying fervently. I asked him what was going on. He very seriously said "I should have talked to her." I felt so bad. Then Reb Shlomo gave me a big hug and said: "Dovid'l don't worry. As soon as I get back to the hotel, I'm sure I'll get another call from her, and besides, you mamash saved my life!"
* *                   *

It was another all nighter and Reb Shlomo was teaching -- from every angle songs, stories, tears and laughter- about loshan harah, the evil of speaking bad about another person. I kept thinking of my holy mother, may she rest in peace. She didn't speak badly about another person -- not because she controlled herself, but rather because she simply never saw anything bad in another person. I remember when I was a child, we were once going for a walk on the Sabbath and someone drove his car past very fast. I, of course, screamed out: "Look, he's driving on the Sabbath." My mother's first reaction was that "if he's driving that fast on Shabbos, it must be an emergency." Of course my mother didn't even see that he was smoking a cigarette, but I'm sure that she would have seen that as an emergency also. If you're driving that fast you need to smoke to calm yourself down. By the time Reb Shlomo finished his teaching I felt that all bad had been eradicated and that all people were good.

As we were walking back to Reb Shlomo's hotel room, I had to tell him what my good friend Reb Tzur said. This was about two years after we all arrived from San Francisco. Reb Tzur very seriously declared to me: "You know about two years ago I didn't even know what Lashon Harah, evil talk, meant but now, Baruch Hashem (thank G-d), I speak it fluently."

If you're still reading the book at this point please try to remember that I never promised that any of these jokes were really funny. But hopefully they will be an expiation for our many sins.
* *                   *

It was the Ramle State Prison this time. Reb Shlomo and his gang of faithful musician followers were there for a special pre-Rosh Hoshanah New Year concert. We had a very captive audience. We were all in an inescapable outdoor barbed wire auditorium.

Reb Shlomo began the concert with one of his greatest lines. "My sweetest friends," he said, "oh how I envy all of you.How lucky you all are. G-d has given you so much time to fix your lives and repent, while I, poor me, have no time to repent for my many sins. I'm sure you are all using your time wisely to come close to G-d." The concert was a rousing success and Reb Shlomo went over to each and every prisoner personally. He hugged, kissed, and blessed them with a happy, healthy year and of course asked for each one's blessing for the New Year. One prisoner was quite evidently under the influence of drugs and put his hand on Reb Shlomo's head. With a big smile he said: "Reb Shlomo, I bless you with a Shana Tova Umi-u-shenet, a good and smokey year" instead of the traditional blessing of Shana Tova Umivorachat, A Good Blessed Year. What a joke?! The whole ride back Reb Shlomo kept repeating his words and said that truly was a blessing from the heart!
* *                   *

While we were visiting an institution for the mentally disabled, one of the patients ran up to Reb Shlomo and myself and frantically told us that "there was a big fire here last week." Reb Shlomo very seriously said: "Oy vey, is everyone OK?" The patient answered: "Thank G-d everyone is fine but we ended up with a lot of roasted nuts!" The patient laughed hysterically, and of course we couldn't help but join in. Seeing that he had a good audience he left us with one more joke regarding his unfortunate situation. He said, "you know last week one of the patients escaped and kidnapped a baby. He climbed up to the top of a tower and threatened to jump. Everyone below was frantic and didn't know where to turn. Being that I was his good friend, they came to me to see if I could get this man down." Reb Shlomo, not missing a beat, said, "Nu: did you succeed?" And the patient answered: "It was so simple! You know most people are so crazy they just don't know how to help. But I took my little hand saw and began to saw the bottom of the tower. The man started screaming. He said: 'What are you trying to do to me?!' I said very sternly: 'If you don't come down peacefully I'm going to saw this whole tower down and then you'll be sorry.' He said: Please don't do that. I promise I won't jump. Just stop that sawing. It's driving me crazy!"

At this point, the patient telling the joke laughed so loud the whole place began laughing with him. I realized that he was beginning to make a lot of sense. Crazy, isn't it? Reb Shlomo of course kissed him and told him how proud he was of him and said, "Holy Brother, that's mamash deep. You should be a Rebbe." The patient answered: "I know and you know, but they don't (pointing at the doctors)."
* *                   *

Our Rebbe loved to perform weddings, so in order to help him out some of the chevre (followers) made it a point to get married more than once. Now most normal people would not go back to the same Rabbi who married them the first time. And we were all warned not to depend on miracles. But when Reb Shlomo would officiate at a wedding -- or even a third or a fourth wedding, or even a wedding where the bride was about to give birth at any moment -- it was clear to everyone present that this time the couple would make it forever. At one wedding in Berkeley, California, the bride was holding her belly and rubbing it gently. Reb Shlomo continued blessing the holiest most beautiful bride in the world and the holiest and sweetest groom in the world. As an eyewitness to this historical wedding in the luscious green hills of Berkeley, I was convinced at this rate it might be the first time that a wedding and a bris would coincide. As a matter of fact, we were all invited back to the bris approximately ten days later -- it was strange and yet beautiful to celebrate the bris with the bride and groom so soon after the wedding. Now the wedding was not a traditional black tie affair, nor was it much praised in the 'religious' community. But as always, Reb Shlomo with his holy light put it all in the proper prospective. He reminded us of the time that Adam and Eve gave birth in the Garden of Eden on the same day that they met. And that when the Mashiach will be revealed the pain of pregnancy and labor will be banished forever. "My sweetest friends, maybe we are returning to the Garden of Eden as more women are giving birth on the same day they get married. Mazel Tov, Mazel Tov."

I almost forgot, I heard this one liner from my good friend Sha'arya Witt in Reb Shlomo's name. Sha'arya and his many brothers and sisters are true connoisseurs of Reb Shlomo's holy humor. I think they would say his joke was not always funny but watching Reb Shlomo tell it was indescribably delicious!

Without further adieu... Two women were talking when one of their husbands walked in. One woman turned to her friend and said: "It's nice to see that your husband got a new suit." The other woman answered: "That's not a new suit. That's a new husband!"
* *                   *

Sitting in a vegetarian restaurant with Reb Shlomo, or anywhere, there was never a dull moment. By the time I had come back from the counter with my lunch, Reb Shlomo had managed to talk with, shake hands with, hug and kiss and bless not only everyone at every table, but also the manager, the waiters and waitresses and every worker in the kitchen. The whole restaurant was alive and smiling as Reb Shlomo touched each person in a special way in just a few short moments. On the way to the counter to order his own lunch, Reb Shlomo spotted new customers who just walked in. He knew them, of course, and went over to speak to them warmly. By the time he got to the table the rest of us were almost done eating. When Reb Shlomo finally sat down he praised G-d for giving the cook so much wisdom to cook the food with such love. I thought it was a joke but realized that the Rebbe meant it.

We began to speak about the Baal Teshuva movement and the early days. I asked Reb Shlomo why he doesn't sit down and eat first and then run around hugging and kissing everyone. Reb Shlomo just simply said, "Brother Dovid'l: How could I sit down and eat before I said hello to everyone?" Reb Shlomo taught me on that day that loving people is not a game of points, it's real.

I thought of the teaching of the great Rav of Slobotka ZT"L on the passage, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as you love yourself.' He asks the question: How is it possible to love someone else the same way I love myself? He answers as follows: The love one has for himself or herself is a very natural love. It is not necessary to be commanded to feel such a love. So too the Torah commands us to love everyone else in a natural way, not necessarily because of a commandment to do so.

Many years ago Reb Shlomo was at my house in French Hill in Jerusalem. As he entered the apartment Aretha Franklin was on the cassette player, singing 'You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman.' Yes, our Rebbe made the most difficult thing feel so natural and so right.

Meanwhile back at the vegetarian restaurant I felt an urge coming on to tell Reb Shlomo one of my favorites. My evil inclination and good inclination were having a little battle. Finally the good inclination won and this is what I said: "Rebbe, have you heard about the cannibal that repented of his evil ways?" Reb Shlomo, always ready for my remarks said: "No, Dovid'l, what did he do?" With a straight face I said: "Baruch Hashem, thank G-d, he now only eats vegetarians."

During the grace after the meals, when we recited the line, 'And leave us not to depend on the gifts of flesh and blood' we smiled at each other. It felt like that line was put in for the strict vegetarians; cannibals, excluded of course.
* *                   *

This chapter would not be complete without this one last story. It was another eighteen hour plus day. We were lying on the floor in exhaustionafter a day that included a wedding, a concert, and a quick excursion to the Institute for the Blind for a mini-concert. About one thirty A.M. Reb Shlomo announced to the Chevre: "It would be so beautiful if we could sit together and learn for a few moments." We went to Reb Yehoshua and Emuna's world famous abode. By four A.M., after lots of stories and teachings it looked like an all-night slumber party at Camp Winniewatta. Surveying the scene, Reb Shlomo in his soothing voice began:
"Chevra, I'm sure everyone remembers the famous story of Reb Shmelka and Reb Pinchas. I told it at least a thousand times. But just in case just one person hasn't heard it, I'll tell it again." I grabbed a pillow and got comfortable, so I could dream while Reb Shlomo was singing the story.

I want you to know, I want you to know, my sweetest holiest friends, that the holy Reb Shmelka and his holy brother Reb Pinchas had a holy mother who went to their holy master the great Maggid of Mezritch, Reb Dov Ber. She complained to him that her two sons were flagrantly going against the holy Torah! The Holy Maggid was shocked and asked what they had done. With tears in her eyes she said her son Reb Pinchas almost never says the grace after meals, and her son Reb Shmelka almost never says the prayer of Shema before going to sleep. The Maggid was terribly dismayed to hear such news about his holy desciples. He went to check it out immediately and then the secret was out. Yes, it was true that Reb Pinchas almost never said grace after meals, but that was because he almost never ate. And yes, it was also true that Reb Shmelka almost never said the prayer of Shema Yisrael before going to sleep, but that was because he almost never slept.

Their true holiness had been revealed to the Great Maggid and he began to worry, especially about Reb Shmelka's lack of sleep and concern for his health. Reb Shmelka couldn't stay away from the holy books and would do everything in his power to stay awake and grab one more holy word, one more holy chapter, one more holy tractate of the Talmud. He took lit candles and put them between his fingers. If he would fall into momentary slumber the wax and fire would begin to mingle together and arouse him from his well deserved two minute rest. This did not suffice him, and he would put a cold bucket of water in front of his face and if he got tired, his holy head would fall into the cold bucket of water and quickly bring him back to the holy Torah so that it never departed from his heart and lips.

The Maggid decided to teach Reb Shmelka the value of a good night's sleep. He invited Reb Shmelka to his personal study for a late-night private session of Torah, promising Reb Shmelka that they would learn the deepest secrets. Well the Maggid kept his word, but not only was the Torah they learned very deep, the vodka that the Maggid kept pouring for his sleepless desciple was also very deep. By the time the night was over Reb Shmelka fell onto his bed and for the first time in his life slept eight full hours. He woke up and was a virtual burning fire for G-d. He prayed with such fervency and studied the Torah with such depth and joy that he was in indescribable bliss. The Maggid was sure that Reb Shmelka had learned his lesson well and went to inquire about Reb Shmelka's day of holiness after sleeping so well. The Maggid began as follows: "Nu, Reb Shmelka, how did it feel to pray today after sleeping so well?" "Ah, it was heavenly," Reb Shmelka responded. "I never felt so connected to G-d." "And nu, what about your Torah studies?" asked the Maggid. "Ah," Reb Shmelka answered wistfully. "It was like being in the Garden of Eden before the original sin." "So nu, Reb Shmelka," smiled the Maggid, I'm sure that from now on you'll get a good night's sleep, now that you've seen the benefits you've derived. "But my holy Master," replied Reb Shmelka, "I hope you'll forgive me, but the greatest insight I had today was that there is truly no time to sleep. But thank you for such a lovely evening."

One more story that our Rebbe loved to tell can illustrate Reb Shmelka's love of being awake for G-d's great light. Reb Shmelka,was learning one night with his brother, Reb Pinchas. Reb Pinchas, not being used to such a rigorous schedule, was at the end of his energies. He turned to his brother and said: "O.K, maybe you're an angel, but I'm at the end and I have to sleep." Reb Shmelka kissed his brother good night and wished him the sweetest of dreams. Reb Pinchas went into the other room grabbed a pillow and put his weary head down to rest. His brother Reb Shmelka was in there just a moment later, scolding him. "How could you lie to me? What do you mean my holy brother? You said you were at the end and I believed you but I see you had enough strength to get a pillow, so obviously you weren't really tired!"

Reb Shlomo didn't have time to sleep because he always had one more story, one more song, just one more gevalt joke before he sent us all to sleep peacefully.

