A census taker comes to the Goldman house. “Does Louis Goldman live here?” he asks. “No,” replies Goldman. “Well, then, what’s your name?” “Louis Goldman.” “Wait a minute—didn’t you just tell me that Louis Goldman doesn’t live here?” “Hah,” says Goldman. “You call this living?” An elderly Jewish man is bumped by a car while crossing the street. He is seemingly unhurt, but his wife persuades him to go to the doctor, just in case. He returns home, and his wife says — “Nu, vos zogt der doktor?”“So? What did the doctor say?” “Der doktor zogt az ich hob a flucky.” [“The doctor says I have a flucky.”] “Oy, gevalt! A flucky! Terrible! What do you do for a flucky?” “I don’t know — he didn’t say, and I forgot to ask.” Well, by this time the wife is in a state of high anxiety. She tells her neighbors “My husband was hit by a car, and now he has a flucky! I don’t know what to do!” Neighbor #1 says, “In the old country, when someone had a flucky, we always applied cold. Cold is the best thing for a flucky.” Neighbor #2 says, “What are you talking about? Cold is absolutely the worst thing you could do for a flucky! We always applied heat, that’s the only thing to do for a flucky.” Cold, heat! Oy!
Now thoroughly agitated, the wife decides to call the doctor herself. “Doctor, please tell me, what’s wrong with my husband?” “I told him… nothing’s wrong. He got off lucky.”“If I were Rockefeller,” sighed the Hebrew teacher from Chelm, “I’d be richer than Bill Gates.” His friend asked, “What do you mean? How could you be richer?” “I’d do a little teaching on the side.”Tanchum, the water carrier, was returning home one evening when a stranger rushed up to him and slapped his face. “Take that, Meyer!” yelled the attacker. Tanchum picked himself up from the ground and stared at the man in amazement. Suddenly a broad grin spread over his face and he laughed uproariously. “Meyer, what are you laughing at?” exclaimed the other. “I just knocked you down.” “The joke is on you,” chortled Tanchum. “I’m not Meyer!” Chaim had been a faithful Jew and was in the hospital, near death.
The family called their rabbi to come. As the rabbi stood next to the bed, old Chaim’s condition appeared to deteriorate and he motioned frantically for something to write on. The rabbi lovingly handed him a pen and a piece of paper, and Chaim used his last bit of energy to scribble a note. Then he died. The rabbi thought it best not to look at the note right then, so he placed it in his jacket pocket. At the funeral, as he was finishing his address, he realized that he was wearing the same jacket he had had on when Chaim died. He said, “You know, Chaim handed me a note just before he died. I haven’t looked at it, but knowing Chaim, I’m sure there’s a word of inspiration there for us all.” He opened the note and read, “Hey, you’re standing on my oxygen tube!”
