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Book details
  • Genre:HUMOR
  • SubGenre:Form / Essays
  • Language:English
  • Pages:216
  • eBook ISBN:9798350910599
  • Paperback ISBN:9798350910582

JEWMOROUS

A Collection of Stories Which Prove I'm Full of SCHTICK!

by Herman Lentz

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Overview
"Jewmorous: A Collection of Stories Which Prove I'm Full of SCHTICK!" is a coming-of-age account from a Long Island Jewish perspective. The fact that it took me 67 years to come of age is a cross I have to bear. Am I special? Well, despite my mother's repeated assurances that I was, I am the byproduct of an upper-middle-class, Long Island Jewish background filled with summer sleepaway camps, a bar mitzvah celebration worthy of Cecil B. DeMille, avoiding physical labor at all costs, calling a repairman for even the most minor of inconveniences, and trying to date Catholic High School girls. I am stereotypical for my generation. Am I special? Yes and no. No, because I write about events that are relatively common occurrences we all face: first loves, college, work, marriage, kids, selling a house. My experiences are nothing out of the ordinary. What makes me special and even "Jewmorous" is that I can find the humor in these day-to-day mundane events and even more in the most embarrassing situations. In fact, I embrace the discomforting moments as they make great fodder for a story. Like Walter Mitty, I have delusions of grandeur and a rich imagination, but I use sarcasm, snark, and self-deprecation as coping skills. "Jewmorous" covers the trials and tribulations of a devout narcissist. No subject is taboo, and I play the role of hero, antihero, and victim many times in the same story. My book reads like a love story — a love story to myself.
Description
Jew (jōō) – noun 1. An adherent of Judaism 2. A descendant of the Hebrew people humor - (hyōō´mər) noun 1. The quality of being amusing or comic especially as expressed in literature or speech 2: the power to see or tell the amusing side of things Jewmorous – (jōō´mər-əs) adjective 1. How I view myself (an opinion not always shared by others) "Jewmorous: A Collection of Stories Which Prove I'm Full of SCHTICK!" is a coming-of-age account from a Long Island Jewish perspective. The fact that it took me 67 years to come of age is a cross I have to bear. Am I special? Well, despite my mother's repeated assurances that I was, I am the byproduct of an upper-middle-class, Long Island Jewish background filled with summer sleepaway camps, a bar mitzvah celebration worthy of Cecil B. DeMille, avoiding physical labor at all costs, calling a repairman for even the most minor of inconveniences, and trying to date Catholic High School girls. I am stereotypical for my generation. The truth is that I can't draw a straight line, have no rhythm, can't play an instrument, and have been told to mouth the words during sing-alongs. It may sound like I was shortchanged and challenged. But to me, the proof of the existence of a supreme being is in the pudding: at the age of 67, I still have a great head of hair, skin as silky smooth as a baby's bum, and a rapier-like wit. Am I special? Yes and no. No, because I write about events that are relatively common occurrences we all face: first loves, college, work, marriage, kids, selling a house. My experiences are nothing out of the ordinary. What makes me special and even "Jewmorous" is that I can find the humor in these day-to-day mundane events and even more in the most embarrassing situations. In fact, I embrace the discomforting moments because they make great fodder for stories. Like Walter Mitty, I have delusions of grandeur and a rich imagination, but I use sarcasm, snark, and self-deprecation as coping skills. "Jewmorous" covers the trials and tribulations of a devout narcissist. No subject is taboo, and I play the role of hero, antihero, and victim many times in the same story. My book reads like a love story — a love story to myself. Chronologically, the earliest story is about my fifteenth birthday, when Don Rickles pulled me up on stage and roasted me like a Thanksgiving turkey. After that painful evening, I could have written Unabomber manifestos. Instead, thanks to the assistance of a great number of mental health professionals, I will tell my story with pride. Depending on one's outlook, the rest of the stories are either uphill or downhill from there. Who but a devout narcissist would write about their first sexual encounter, getting sunburned testicles on a nude beach, or feigning Tourette's on a golf course? A number of stories focus on my marriage and confirm the stereotype that Jewish men make the best husbands. While she won't admit it, my first-generation Greek Orthodox wife is the lucky beneficiary of centuries of Jewish male natural selection, since the ability to make a decision has been bred out of us. In other words, it's good to be Thalia! Despite this fact, I can still find the humor in the fact that giving her absolute power corrupts absolutely. In several stories, I delve deeply into the clashing of cultures between a close-knit extended Greek family where non-relatives are considered blood and a Jewish family where family functions are often held at opposite ends of a conference table in an attorney's offices. With sarcasm and a wink, other themes include drug use, foreskin shots, bestiality, prostate exams, and masturbation. As I said, a love story to myself.
About the author
Herman Lentz is a retired Chief Compliance Officer who, no longer shackled by the constraints imposed by his position, can finally publish a book without fear that his musings will cost him his career. Always a storyteller, he has crafted a collection of essays about the adventures and misadventures in his life. A Long Island Jew with delusions of grandeur, he lives in New Jersey, not by choice, but by marriage (his first-generation Greek Orthodox wife wanted to be close to her extremely extended family). He prides himself on his great head of hair and self-proclaimed rapier-like wit. When he's not working on his next essay, he can be seen cursing on the golf course, wishing his grandkids would take more naps when he babysits, avoiding any and all acts of physical labor, and looking for excuses to not go shopping with his wife. His goal is not to be recognized posthumously.

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