Once a week, I attend an anti-lashon hara (anti-gossip) session given by Dr. Chaim Haber. It is amazing to learn the rules regarding lashon hara as revealed by the great Chofetz Chaim. It appears that to fulfill all the details of becoming a non-loshon haranik, a person should rarely make comments about other people – not any easy task!

One sunny day an interesting thought came to mind: Why not also have a class about cheerful lashon? There are many sources regarding worshipping Hashem (G-d) with simcha, joy. Hopefully, after reviewing this concept, someone will initiate such a class.

The following maiseh (story) illustrates the preferable world of cheerful lashon (speech). All names are fictitious.

Have you heard that dogs are man’s best friend? While exploring the origins of this expression, I came across a Yiddish expression about dogs, which states that it’s a huntisher velt, a dog’s world. The huntisher expression has various meanings, depending on how it is said. On the one hand, it can mean that things are average; on the other hand, it can mean that things are teef ihn drerd, not so great.

Dogs are very popular pets and have been credited with saving human lives – no small accomplishment! At the same time, they have maimed and even killed human beings. So what does our expression mean? Nu, you may respond, voss hakst do ah chinik (why are you prattling)? Let’s explore a little and find out about dogs.

Have you ever heard of a tune entitled “Que Sera Sera”? It was popularized by a singer named Doris Day. The refrain goes like this:

Nisht ah hin, nisht ah hare. You could interpret this Yiddish saying as “not a chicken and not a rabbit,” which is its interpretation, but it is not the meaning of this saying. It is meant to be metaphorical and refers to something that is “neither here nor there.” But such a translation still does not convey the subtle nuances of the phrase. The following maises (stories) convey the true meaning of nisht ah hin, nisht ah hare:

Story #1

Yussel Goldfarber, a clothing salesman, was encouraging a customer, Lazer Yapanchik, to purchase a suit that was azoy und azoy (top quality). Lazer rubbed the cloth of the suit between his fingers, as was the custom of suit buyers a few years ago.

“Oy gevald,” said Yussel to Lazer, “do you realize the bargain that you are getting for such a fine suit?” In kurtzen (in short), Lazer purchased the ahntzig (suit) and planned to wear it at the bar mitzva of his einikel (grandson) Shmulikeh.

The expression, “What am I, chopped liver?” or, in Yiddish, Voss bin ich, gehakteh leber? is used by Yiddelach when they feel ignored. So why chopped liver? you may ask. After all, the inquiry could be, “What am I, a string bean?”

Singing in the rain is not exactly a normal activity, right? So let me explain. There was once a movie called Singin’ in the Rain, starring the outstanding dancer, Gene Kelly. Some folks believed that Kelly’s character was a bit tsudrayt (confused) because, although it was raining “cats and dogs,” he continued to dance and sing, “I’m singing in the rain….”

He was thinking of his lady friend, of course, but to many people, Kelly was delivering another message, an even more important one, which was to celebrate life even when times are difficult. It’s not a Yiddishe song (though its lyrics were written by a Yid) but it fits our tradition. We have been instructed to worship G-d with simcha (joy) even when we encounter shvair (difficult) times. And thus, we, too, sing in the rain. (Incidentally, in Yiddish the word “shvair” also refers to a father-in-law. “So why is a shvair called a shvair?” you may ask.