Thursday, June 2, 2011

Standard Deviations

The other night, a Jewess, a Catholic woman, and another Jewess walked into a bar. Wait, let me rephrase that so it doesn't sound like a cheap ethnic joke. What do a plastic surgeon, an obstetrician in a Catholic neighborhood, and a Shabbos elevator have in common? I think that's better, no?

Anyway, back to the bar. The Catholic woman was regaling the two Jewesses with tales of her childhood, and had them both shaking their heads when she explained her mom had given birth to six children in seven years. Naturally, the law of averages being universal and all, one of the six had died fairly young. The rest, it seems, have grown into adulthood and maintained close, loving relationships with each other. Sometimes, there are exceptions to the law of averages.

Blah, blah, blah. She went on with the stories, but the two Jewesses were still stuck on the concept of giving birth to six children in seven years. Or even giving birth to six children at all. One finally chimed in, asking what miracle intervened to stop the madness before number seven was in the oven.

"The doctor loved my mother," said the Catholic woman, "and he loved all of us." She added the last part, I think, to clarify that this was a pure kind of love. The devout Catholic woman who was cranking out children faster than carburetors on an assembly line was not about to break any other commandments, even if the factory was about to close.

"And?" The two Jewesses were confused.

"And, after number six was born, he told her she had a bunch of cancerous growths and gave her a hysterectomy."

"So she had cancer?"

"No. He just said she did so he could take out her uterus."

The Jewesses were amazed. One finally found a way to understand how a doctor would risk malpractice and maybe a defrocking and perform unnecessary surgery when he could have just prescribed a diaphragm. "It's like the Catholic version of the deviated septum!"

"Exactly!" It's so nice when people of different faiths can find some common ground, even when it involves a bit of self deception. I suppose, every once in a while, we all depend on someone else to push the buttons on our Shabbos elevator. How else do you get anywhere?

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