Who knew?

Volunteering at the Getty Center gives all of us docents the opportunity to meet new people from all over the world. On a recent encounter with some lovely guests from outside the US my docent friend Dolores was asked a question.

Visitor: Was J. Paul Getty Jewish?

Dolores: No, why do you ask?

Visitor: He had a lot of money and Jewish people are always rich.

Dolores: Well, I wish someone would have told my father!

She's quick, that Dolores.

And now, a little Yiddish

Dolores and I carpool to the Getty on Wednesdays. I think I enjoy that as much as the Getty its self. We do laugh a lot and I learn a bit of Yiddish at no extra cost.

Here is one of her definitions.

A schlemeil is someone who drops something on the floor.

A schlimazel steps in it.

It's all in how you look at it

My darling friend Dolores was at the dentist this week and when asked by the staff if she was "attached" she said no. They have a man she should meet, he drives at night and has his own teeth and is only 94 year-old. She thinks she might pass on that introduction.

Different things are important at different times.

When you're 15,
"He can drive his mother's car."

When you're 25,
"He has his own car and can buy alcohol."

When you're 35,
"He has a job and never been married."

When you're 65,
"He has a pension and health insurance."

When you're 95,
"He can still drive."

Now I'm learning Yiddish, too?

My Yiddish lesson on Wednesday was the word, ch-il-lay-la though I'm not so sure of the spelling. The ch is pronounced as if you are clearing phlegm from your throat. Such a funny word and it means a complainer. After dropping Dolores at her house I practiced this sound on the way home until my throat was dry. What a language, it can make you laugh and clear phlegm.