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    Esther Blumenfeld  

    The purpose of this web site is to entertain.  My humor columns died along with the magazines where they were printed, although I cannot claim responsibility for their demise.  I still have something to say, and if I can bring a laugh or two to your day, my mission will be fulfilled.

    Everyone I know thinks he has a sense of humor.  Here is my unsolicited advice. If you try to be funny and no one laughs, don’t worry about it.  However, if you try to be funny and no one EVER laughs, you might have a little problem.

     

    Friday
    May092025

    HOW BIG WAS THAT FISH ANYWAY?

    How Big Was That Fish Anyway?

    I’ve been a trusting person my whole life. Anyway, I usually start out that way. But, if someone lies to me, I tend to remember it.

    When I was a little girl, my best friend, Leigh Ann bit me. (When I grew up I chose less violent friends.) I ran into the house crying and told my Uncle Harry what had happened. He said, “I’m going to kill her!” That was quite comforting, until I realized that Leigh Ann would live on to bite her way through life, and that Uncle Harry had lied to me.

    Lies have a life of their own, and now with modern technology, lies can spread faster than diaper rash on a baby’s bottom. When telling the truth, you don’t even have to remember what you said, but if you tell a lie, you’d better get it straight if you intend to repeat it.

    One day, as I was loading groceries into the trunk of my car, a well-dressed man, carrying a gas can, approached me. He told me that he had just arrived from Philadelphia. He was on his way for a job interview, but had run out of gas. He had left his wallet with his wife, who was waiting in the car with their two children. All he needed was money, so he could get some gas. I was dubious, but gave him some money for the good story.

    Two weeks later, he approached me again with the same sob story---except this time he was from Detroit. I said, “Two weeks ago you told me you were from Philadelphia.” “Well,” he said, “I guess that two weeks ago I was from Philadelphia.”

    When telling a half-truth, a person should be sure to remember which half to tell. Lies make suckers out of us all. Napoleon Bonaparte said, “History is a set of lies agreed upon.” Several juicy lies have entertained us for generations.

    The story goes that the Greeks presented the Trojans with a peace offering in the shape of a wooden horse. When the Trojans pulled the gift into their fortified city, they discovered it was filled with vengeful Greeks. True or not, it’s a good story and perhaps an elaborate lie.

    Anna Anderson claimed to be the missing Anastasia of the royal Romanov family, until DNA ruined that hoax. And who, in the 1950’s, wasn’t enthralled with the discovery of the skull of the Piltdown man---the supposed link in evolution---until it was proven that the skull was only 600 years old, and that the attached jawbone came from an orangutan.

    Sometimes it takes a long time, but the truth usually prevails. Those who are habitual liars don’t go unpunished. George Bernard Shaw explained the fate of liars very well. He said, “The liars punishment is not in the least that he is not believed, but that he cannot believe anyone else.”

    Esther Blumenfeld (“The income tax has made liars out of more people than golf”) Will Roger

    Friday
    May022025

    VOLENDA ESSKI


     In her book, The Middle Place, Kelly Corrigan writes, “Parents define you first.” If she’s right, I guess perhaps they see you as you want to be seen, and then again---perhaps NOT.

    Recently, my brother, David sent me some letters he found in his attic. They were written in 1945, when he was an infant, and I was a 9-year-old spending a couple of weeks in summer camp. I hope through the chuckles, you will catch a glimpse of the woman I became. I know I did.

    “Dear Mom and Dad,
    Boy, am I having fun. We sang songs on the bus and Rosalie dropped her letters into the water.”

    “My Darling Daughter,
    I bought 3 movie magazines with pretty actors, and I will save them for you, so you can cut them out for your scrapbook. Be a good girl and wash your ears. Mommy”

    “Dear Mom and Dad,
    For breakfast I had raisins, Wheaties, milk and toast. I went swimming and am in cabin #1.”

    “Dear Daughter,
    I imagine that you were so busy enjoying yourself that you did not find the time to write.  Mommy”

    “Dear Mom and Dad,
    I’m very sorry I didn’t write to you, but I lost my pencil. Now I have to go row a boat.”

    “My Dear Daughter,
    How are you getting along with the other girls? No fighting? Do you sleep well in your bunk? How does it feel to be on an island? Daddy”

    “P.S. The spot on the paper is drool from your baby brother.”

    “Dear Mom and Dad,
    I saw two raccoons last night. They say there are deer on the island. The cabins are full of spiders, but they aren’t poisonous. How many dishes did Daddy break since I left?”

    “Dear Daughter,

    Please don’t bring any spiders home. Please don’t forget anything at camp. Remember the BLANKETS belong to Mrs. Dworsky. Are you washing yourself good? How about your ears and neck? Do you treat them well? Be a good girl Mommy”

    “Dear Daddy,
    I am writing a play for you.
    (Signed) Volenda Esski”

    So, I grew up, washed my ears and neck, and wrote some more plays and a few books. I don’t know where I picked up the pseudonym “Volenda Esski.” Sometimes, I still find excuses not to write, but eventually I manage to find my pencil. I’m not collecting photos of movie stars anymore, but I still keep scrapbooks that have preserved some sweet memories.

    My breakfast habits haven’t changed much. I still enjoy swimming, but can’t remember the last time I rowed a boat. And, I never “fight” with my friends. I’m still not afraid of spiders, and occasionally when I drop something, I realize that I have become almost as clumsy as my Father. However, I never dropped 8 dinner plates at one time. In all fairness, the seat of the chair he was standing on broke through. He was okay---the dishes---not so much.

    Esther Blumenfeld (“It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn’t.”) Barbara Kingsolver













    Friday
    Apr252025

    HEDGING YOUR BETS


    Wake up!  It’s time for a riddle: What do you consistently buy that is very expensive, but that you never want to use, and that the seller doesn’t really want you to use either?

    If that doesn’t ring your chimes, the clue is in your checkbook. Minimally, you insure your life, your body parts, your home and your car, and if that isn’t good enough, you spend some more money on a million-dollar umbrella policy to protect you from a litigious cloud burst.

    There are other insurances such as coverage for lost packages, floods, or termites that can chew you out of house and home, and the most recent insurance is coverage for a wedding. The average American wedding now costs around $26,000.00, so a number of companies now insure certain losses due to problems with vendors, and issues such as hurricanes, illness and cold feet. However, if the couple decides to break-up, it has to be nine months before the happy event to collect. I think that wedding insurance stops the moment the couple says, “I do!” I doubt if any company is solvent enough to insure a moment after that.

    I was happy to have car insurance when an old lady confused her gas pedal for her brake pedal and rear-ended me at a stoplight. The police officer suggested that she stop driving when he saw a man carrying her radiator back to her car.

    For most of us, insurance is a necessary but annoying expense, however for some people it serves another purpose such as publicity. Lloyds of London was the go to company for odd insurances. In the 1940’s executives of 20th Century Fox insured the legs of the popular pin-up and actress, Betty Grable for one-million-dollars each.

    In 1957, food critic, Egon Ronay insured his taste buds for $400,000.00. That was before the popularity of jalapeño peppers, and people still had taste buds.

    Thirteen-year-old Harvey Lowe won the 1932 World Yo-Yo Championship in London, and toured Europe with his up and down toy. His sponsor, the Cheerio Yo-Yo Company of Canada insured his hands for $150,000.00.

    Michael Flatley, star of Riverdance, must have thought his legs were prettier than Betty Grable’s because he insured them for forty-seven-million dollars.

    The comedy team of Bud Abbot and Lou Costello took out a $250,000.00, five-year policy to protect against a career-ending argument. Unfortunately, that didn’t include a career-ending argument with the Internal Revenue Service.

    Bruce Springsteen insured his voice, Rod Stewart his throat and Bob Dylan his vocal cords.

    Actuaries, who work for insurance companies, use mathematical, statistical and financial theories to study uncertain future events and the consequences of covering clients. They help to determine who is the biggest risk for the insurance company, and ask questions such as: “How many times has this bozo gone sky diving without opening his parachute in the last year?” If it’s more than once, forget the Whole Life Policy!

    Esther Blumenfeld (“Can you really count on unpredictability?”) WSB


    Friday
    Apr182025

    NO REVERSE GEAR


    When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a pilot or a bartender. I was told that, “Girls don’t fly,” and my mother forbade me from becoming a bartender. It wasn’t the mixing of drinks that intrigued me, but I was curious about all those imaginative stories that I suspected customers must tell.

    When I attended college, I wanted to write comedy for television, but was told that only one woman wrote for television.  Her name was Agnes Nixon and she wrote soap operas that weren’t very funny. Then I thought of having a career operating television cameras, but was told that I would never get a job, because I could never join the Cameraman’s Union. The professor added, “And you girls learn to type.” I took his advice and began typing my life-long observations---and eventually got paid for them.

    Some people think life is a crapshoot and others think it’s a matter of choices. It’s probably a combination of both. I knew a successful salesman in Atlanta who struck up a conversation with a Japanese man while sitting in the Atlanta airport. The young man told him that the Japanese were going to import automobiles to the United States, and asked the salesman if he would be interested to have the franchise for the southeastern part of the country. The salesman thought to himself, “Who in his right mind will buy a Japanese car?” and he politely refused the offer. The young man was a representative from Toyota.

    There are always decisions to be made when coming to that inevitable fork in the road. Hindsight can be an entertaining exercise when thinking, “If I had done this instead of that.” However, it’s a dangerous game when one says, “If I had ONLY done this instead of that.” There is a difference between wistful thinking and unreasonable regret.

    In 1978, Berkshire Hathaway stock sold for $175 a share. Today the stock is trading at $175,852.00 a share. Now that is a wistful twinge at its best.

    You don’t have to be a student of World History to realize in hindsight that---so often--- if humanity had zigged instead of zagged, the world would be in a different place---maybe better---maybe not.

    It’s probably healthier to live the life we have today, rather than dwell on an imagined life built on unfulfilled dreams. As far as I know, there are no magic lanterns giving us go backs. Ah, there’s the rub.

    When I was in Windsor, our guide told us that the Queen of England enjoys driving her automobile, “But Her Majesty is a terrible driver!” I often imagined that I would have had my 15 minutes of fame if she hit me. Think of the headline, “Tourist run over by the Queen.” Imagine the lawsuit! Wow! I could have had it made. Now that is some hindsight.

    My friend, Al Fisher said something quite wise, “I’m actually a better person than I used to be, but I’m not as good as I’ll be tomorrow.” It’s called, foresight.Try it, you just might like it.

    Esther Blumenfeld (“Hang on to the good memories. Have no regrets. Proceed”)
anonymous

    Friday
    Mar282025

    DON'T MESS WITH GRANDMA


    My Grandparents used to bicker a  lot, but when a friend said  to my Grandmother, ‘“Your husband can be such a pain.”  My Grandmother replied, “You are correct, but no one has the right to complain about my husband except me!”

    Families can be very complicated. As George Carlin said “The other night, I ate in a real nice family restaurant.  Every table had an argument going.”

    When I taught Sunday School, I asked my class, “How do you think we can get Peace on Earth?” No one had a good idea. Then, I suggested that it begins with us. “First,” I said, “You have to have peace in your own family, and then make peace with your neighbors, and then they should make peace with their neighbors etc.” After I finished, one boy raised his hand and said, “It will never work!” “Why?” said I, and he said, “Because I hate my brother!”

    Wayne Huizenga said, “Some family trees bear an enormous crop of nuts.”

    Shakespeare  gave us the Montagues and the Capulets. Romeo, a Montague goes to a party given by the Capulets. He falls in love with Juliet, and in spite of a deadly feud between the two families, the two get married in secret. Cousins on both sides keep killing each other.  Finally, the ill-fated couple can’t take it anymore and commit suicide. That was before marriage counseling was invented.

    In my hometown, there was a couple who lived in her Mother’s house. The two women did not speak to each other EVER! When asked about the situation, the husband said, “It’s peaceful. They never argue.”   

    It’s always a test if you want to spend a holiday with a relative. Dear friends of mine scheduled a cruise for Christmas, so they wouldn’t have to put up with the sap from the family tree.

    The Hatfields and McCoy’s were a perfect blend of chaos and dysfunction. That bitter, murderous family feud between the two families—one from West Virginia and the other from Kentucky—lasted from 1863 to 1891, and some lawsuits and trials continued until 2000. However, on June 14, 2003 in Pikeville, Kentucky, they officially declared a truce between the families, and began cashing in on their story.

    After an  acrimonious divorce, my friend’s husband refused to speak to her even at family functions.  He even shunned her on his deathbed. Boy! did he get even with her!

    I’m not sure if we will ever reach peace in the world, but maybe we can achieve some form of peace in our families.  First of all, it’s a good idea to develop selective hearing, and then to consider this question:  “Would you rather be happy or would you rather be right?”

    Esther Blumenfeld