Some Funny Things about an often Serious Play

Playwright Lisa Loomer describes her Two Things You don’t Talk About At Dinneras “an often funny play about some serious things.” It is an improbably even-handed look at the extremely complex issues surrounding the Israeli-Palestinian situation—on the ground and in our dining rooms. Funny? Serious? You bet. Loomer’s assessment is on the money. Yes, people do tend to fly off the handle when discussing the ongoing conflict in that part of the world, but the play? It is often funny and it is about serious things. To honor the spirit of that fearless enterprise, we assembled some funny and some serious notes—and one cartoon—in support of Loomer’s efforts.

THE SERIOUS 

Civil Discourse — A Lost Cause? 

   Civil discourse is not about niceness. It is about respecting the other individual and having the ability to passionately disagree without being disagreeable. One of the hallmarks of a civilized society is that civility must be guaranteed and observed among those who will inevitably disagree. Civil discourse is fundamental to the fostering and protection of a civilized society.

   It is about ensuring a safe environment in which people can express ideas without fear of attack. It is about tolerance for those who think differently. Yet it seems many in our society have come to regard the old saw “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me” not as a proverb but as a truism—a license to say anything, regardless of what harm it might cause. Sadly, name-calling and bullying increasingly have become the accepted norm in daily human interactions.

    As a result, not-so-civil discourse has become the one, true equal-opportunity issue. It crosses political lines, sparks acerbic debates about family, sexual orientation, roots itself in religious intolerance and ignores the right to exist of “the other”—other socio-economic classes, cultural and racial groups. Its common language is inappropriate, corrosive, insulting, hostile and aggressive.

   It is mean-spirited behavior.

   How do we re-establish the value of civil discourse? First, we must teach our children the tremendous power of words. Words have the capacity to build or destroy, empower or diminish, enable or disable. Words can support, inspire, motivate, stimulate, encourage. Or not. What words do we teach our children? Who should teach them?

   The answer is all of us. Everyone. Regardless of differences.

   Lisa Loomer’s Two Things You Don’t Talk About at Dinner touches on this subject by frontally addressing political and religious differences that are at the forefront of our lives and happen to explode at the Passover Seder that is the fulcrum of her play. For all the pernicious—and often very funny—exchanges, the outcome of the piece skillfully shows us a path to sanity. It may not be a total solution, but it does indicate that, given a choice, human beings prefer kindness to vilification, understanding to bullheadedness, peace to war, even at the dinner table. 

   We can refuse to be debased by uncivil discourse. We can restore faith in words that heal rather than wound, sometimes mortally.

—Portions of this text were excerpted from www.thefreelibrary.com 

THE FUNNY

Braille for Jews? 

   Helen Keller was handed a matzoh, the first she ever touched.

   As she felt it using her fingers to decipher what it was, she asked, “Who wrote this nonsense?”

British Jews

   A British Jew is waiting in line to be knighted by the Queen.

   He is to kneel in front of her and recite a sentence in Latin when she taps him on the shoulder with her sword. However, when his turn comes, he panics in the excitement of the moment and forgets the Latin. Then, thinking fast, he recites the only other sentence he knows in a foreign language, which he remembers from the Passover Seder. “Ma nishtana ha layla ha zeh mi kol ha laylot.”

   Puzzled, the Queen leans over to an advisor and asks: “Why is this knight different from all the other knights?”

Divorce Jewish Style

   An elderly man in Phoenix calls his son in New York and says “I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing. Forty-five years of misery is enough.”

   “Pop, what are you talking about?” the son screams.

   “We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the old man says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her,” and he hangs up.

   Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone, “Like heck they’re getting divorced,” she shouts. “I’ll take care of this!”

   She calls her father immediately and screams at the old man, “You are not getting divorced! Don’t do a single thing until I get there. I’m calling my brother back, and we’ll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, do you hear me?” and
hangs up.

   The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Okay,” he says, “They’re coming for Passover and paying their own airfares.”

Jewish Telegram

Letter follows. Start worrying.

Arabic Sayings

Enfiha el kheir ma yermiha el ter: If it was beneficial the bird wouldn’t drop it (don’t expect something from him).

Ye khaf we ma yekh te shish: he knows fear but never recognizes shame (an unscrupulous person).

E’d sawaba’ak b’ad mat salem a’leh: Count your fingers after you shake his hand (he’s a thief).

A ed a la hassira we me dandel regleh: He is sitting on a carpet and pretends to dangle his feet (an obvious deceiver).

Ed-deeny el bakht oo er-meeny fel bahr:Give me luck and throw me in the ocean (with luck on my side, nothing can hurt me).

Ed ghadabou abl ma yetacha bek: Eat him for lunch before he eats you for dinner (do unto others before they do unto you).

Yeslam bo’okom, we khalou el kalam yehla: Bless your mouth and let the words get sweeter. 

Yom assal, yom bassal: One day is like honey, one day is like an onion.

El khonfessa fe-e ou e she-e omm ghazal: To the cockroach, its child is like a gazelle. 

This article originally appeared in PROLOGUE, the Denver Center Theatre Company subscriber newsletter.