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Rabbi Sol Solomon’s Rabbinical Reflection #205 (4/1/2026): APRIL FOOLING

This Rabbinical Reflection first aired March 29, 2026 on the Dave’s Gone By video podcast. 

Rabbi Sol’s Rabbinical Reflections are heard on the long-running Dave’s Gone By radio/video podcast program (davesgoneby.com) and then archived as text and audio on the Rebbe’s blog, Shalomdammit.com, where a transcript of this Reflection may be read. 

Rabbi Sol is also the creator of the stage show, “Shalom Dammit! An Evening with Rabbi Sol Solomon,” which played in NYC in Nov. 2011 and Aug. 2012.

© 2026 TotalTheater Productions. All Rights Reserved.

More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com 

 More on Rabbi Sol: shalomdammit.com

TRANSCRIPT:

RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #205 (4/1/2026): April Fooling

(c)2026 David Lefkowitz. airs March 28, 2026 on Dave’s Gone By. Watch here:  

Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for April Fools 2026.

My sermons have often been called inexcusable. But that’s okay; I don’t need an excuse – especially when given the opportunity to tell Jewish jokes. And what better time to fool around than April Fools Day?

So, no fooling, my first joke is about Miriam and Ida, two 70-year-old widows who are stepping back, gingerly, into dating. In fact, they’re both gonna go out with the same guy from their senior center: Miriam on Monday night and Ida on Tuesday. 

So Tuesday morning rolls around, and Ida’s at breakfast with Miriam. “Nu,” she says, “how was your date with Leo last night?”

“My God,” says Miriam. “Where do I begin? I wore my best dress, the one I got at Bergdorf’s. Leo picks me up, eight o’clock on the dot. He’s in a beautiful tailored suit, so handsome and well-groomed, and he greets me with flowers and chocolates. We go to his fancy-schmancy Porsche where he opens the door for me like a gentleman. Then it’s dinner at this cozy, delicious restaurant where he’s so funny, so witty, and he listens to me, Ida, really listens. Then he pays the check – big tipper – and takes me out for dessert where we share a huge ice cream sundae. Like teenagers we were.”  

“That’s wonderful!” says Ida. “You know I’m seeing him tonight at eight.”

“Wait,” says Miriam. “There’s more. We take a stroll in the moonlight. Talking, laughing, holding hands. Then he’s driving me home and we’re singing along to all these great songs. In front of my door, we talk and flirt and I invite him in for coffee and the chocolates. He takes my coat, he pours the wine, and as soon as we get to the couch, he jumps on me. Tears my dress off, pins me down, pawing and clawing and humping and pumping and raping me like a wild animal!”

“Gevalt!” says Ida.

“I know,” says Miriam. “So I warn you as a friend. Don’t wear a fancy dress tonight; put on a schmatta.” 

Now, what do we learn from this joke? First, we are reminded that old age is not the same as death. It’s close, but not identical. Septuagenarians can have a sex life. They have desires, longings, fantasies, and special moves that can be erotic without dislodging a hip. We all know the bromide: you’re only as old as you feel, or as old the person you’re feeling. 

To be sure, this joke also cautions us. In business, in love – it is easy to be seduced by surfaces. After all, if you see a wolf in wolf’s clothing, you run away crying “Wolf!” But if a wolf is dressed as a sheep, now you have temptation . . . for a fetish that I don’t want to get into.

But let me tell you about a problem I had last year with my Temple, Sons of Bitches: mice and rats. Oy! Every day we would see a dozen of these things scampering around, eating the drapes, climbing the chairs. I tried everything: traps, exterminators, poison cheese – nothing stopped them. It got so my parishioners were afraid to sit through services. 

Just so happened I was meeting with the Grand Rebbe of New York that week, and I told him the crisis. He thought for a minute and said, “Simple solution. Have a miniature, rat-sized Torah made and buy the rats little kippas and talises. Then dress them up, call them one by one to the bimah, and make them all Bar Mitzvah. After that, you’ll never see them again.” 

You probably have to be Jewish to understand that joke, but suffice it to say, for far too many young Yiddlach, religion starts with the bris and ends with the first boner. It is incumbent upon us people of the cloth to make communal observance a welcoming, lifelong pastime. There is something you don’t get from Facebook or Netflix or Xbox that you do get from being in a room full of Jews: Strep. 

Awright, one more joke. Levi Rothschild, multi-multi-millionaire, dies and has this lavish funeral. Amidst the mourners, a news reporter sees one man sobbing, tearing his hair, screaming, “Why, God, why?” 

The reporter says to him, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude. Are you related to the deceased?” 

“No, I’m not,” wails the guy. 

“But if you’re not related, why are you so distraught?” 

“Because I’m not related!” 

This joke tells us two things: One, you can’t take it with you. Wealthy you might be as a Rothschild; the second you kick the bucket, you don’t even own a bucket. Also, it is human nature to envy and to ask, like Tevye, “Would it spoil some vast eternal plan to make Warren Buffet my uncle?” The answer is, try and appreciate what you have, and if you have more than you need, share some with the envious. If you have a lot more than you need, write me a check – my shul has rats! 

And speaking of that, what do you call a rat who sings showtunes? Ethel Vermin. 

Okay, I should have stopped with the Rothschild joke, but as I said, I’m inexcusable. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to end my sermon. I wish you a happy April Fools and much April foolishness all year long. 

This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York.

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