I have always been confused by the word schmuck. Earlier in my development a Jewish friend of mine informed me that schmuch was the word for penis in Yiddish. How it got to mean some poor slob or whatever, I just can't comprehend
His example of the use of the word was an old joke similar to this one Mr Shapiro, sixty-five and a widower, was having a lonely time in Miami Beach. He observed a man of his own age who was never without female companionship, forever surrounding him, extending invitations and regaling him with amorous advances. One day he worked up the courage to ask this paragon: "Mister, excuse me, what should I do to make friends like yours?". The man sneered and said: "Get a camel. Then ride up an down Collins Avenue every day. Before you know it, everyone in Miami will be asking who that man is, and you will have to hire a social secretary to handle all of the invitations. So Mr Shapiro purchased a newspaper and looked through the ads. By good fortune he read of a circus, stranded in Miami, in need of capital. Mr S. phoned the circus owner and within the hour he had rented a camel. The next morning, Mr S. wearing khaki shorts and a pith helmet, set forth on his camel and on to Collins Avenue. Everywhere people stopped, buzzed, gawked and pointed. Every day for a week he rode his trusty steed. One morning, as he was about to get dressed, the telephone rang. It was the parking lot attendant to tell him that his camel had been stolen. Mr S. called the police. Sergeant O'Riley answered. "What...you say someone stole your camel?" "That's right", said Mr S. "I have to fill out a form", said the sergeant, "How tall is the animal?" "From the sidewalk to his back, where I sit, a good six feet." "What color is it?" "Camel color, a regular camel-colored camel." "Was it male or female?" "What?" "Was the animal male or female?" "How am I supposed to know that? >Wait a minute. Yes, it was a male." "Are you sure?" "Absolutely." "But a minute ago you said you weren't sure." "I'm positive, officer, because I just remembered... >Every time and every place I was riding on that camel, I heard people yelling: >"Hey, look at the shmuck on that camel!!" Bill Find what makes your heart sing…and do it! ________________________________ From: Joe <[email protected]> To: [email protected] Sent: Tue, August 28, 2012 8:31:38 PM Subject: [Zen] Re: Hello Merle, Aww-w; I'm kinda fond of you, too. What I *must* do is practice my painting. Brush-strokes, etc. The modeling of clouds. Colorations of skies. Rocks, valleys, mountains. Columnar cacti. Glazes, over skies, to make them as glorious as our desert skies in Arizona really are... ! This is my challenge! Of course, Zen practice feeds one's vision, by which I mean one's actual optical sense. I hope you know this! Attend a 7-day sesshin, and report back. A small nugget within the larger one(s), but of you are an artist, you will value this! I think you have not experienced it, because you say you are within no easy distance of a teacher, or sangha, and so, no sesshin... . Alas. Try to get lucky, and just go somewhere! I'm no hero; just a schmuck, if I don't practice. And even then. You've seen me screw up badly, drinking heavily as never, after I found a dead neighbor. But as our American comedian Lenny Bruce used to say, not a Buddhist, not informed about Buddha-Mind, nor the Absolute, and a heavy drug-user, but certainly insightful: "We are all the same Schmuck." It's true, from a Buddhist, or even Hindu perspective. Pardon my language. I'm not Jewish, but I understand Yiddish. You're not my heroine!: I am not a drug user! ;-) But, you are my Cousin. I send my love, too, to you, Cuz. Strong practice! --Joe > Merle Lester <merlewiitpom@...> wrote: > > joe..you are my hero..i love it when you say practise...love merle xx
