JOINING THE MARINE (PARK) CORE!

Joining the Marine [Park] Core!

Have You Ever Heard about Achashverosh in New Persey?

Rabbi Hillel L. Yarmove 

Did you ever wonder what would have happened to old King Achashverosh had he ruled, say, the State of New Jersey instead of the State of Persia?

Well, I for one have been spending countless sleepless nights pondering this very great enigma. So I finally decided to write the following magnum opus (great work [Latin]) based on the supposition that somehow or other Achashverosh had been the one to discover America over 2000 years ago—and then began to rule over the-more-than-100 cities and towns of this fair state, extending all the way from Allamuchy, NJ, to Zarephath, NJ. Of course, the king would have changed the name of our fair province to “The State of New Persey”! After all, that’s only right!

Yes indeed: “Vayehi bimei Achashveirosh,” but now we must understand this introduction from a totally different perspective: “V’nahapoch hu!” 

{The poem below is meant be sung to the well-known tune of “Oh, Mein Crumbly, Stale Alter Prune Hamantaschen,” sung in the key of B# minor.}

And now,

Achashverosh in New Persey 

(Actual New Jersey town and city names are rendered in upper-case characters; I’ll bet you’ve never heard of even half of them! So c’mon, my dear Marine Park readers, whip out those maps and atlases and start looking up the location of the places cited below.)

Ah, my dear children, gather ‘round me if you could

Only imagine the following scenario, what a pity:

King Achashverosh has taken over New Jersey and old NORTH WILDWOOD,

MOUNT ARLINGTON, EAST HANOVER, and VENTNOR CITY.

You might remember from the Megillah that the King was quite portly.

After all, eating non-stop for half of a year, as he was doing,

He weighed so much he couldn’t even visit FORT LEE,

DREAHHOK, DEVONSHIRE, or EWING!

But there were cities and towns that would not obey his calls

To eat at the feast of 180 days, commanding

His officers not to make those from TINTON FALLS,

Do so—nor from LAKEWOOD, TOMS RIVER, JACKSON, or MAYS LANDING.

So from his capital in New Shushan, otherwise known here as TRENTON,

The King asked his adviser Haman if there was any MT. HOPE

To make the Yidden listen or on them his anger he’d be ventin’—

And that wicked man answered in just one word, “Nope!”

Haman sneered, “Who needs these folks in our beautiful New Persey State

Or in STRATHMERE, TANSBORO, or STANTON STATION?

I say to send them all back to the Middle East: just don’t wait

Until they strike a DEAL with you in MILFORD and avoid your frustration!”

But the Rosh Yeshivah Mordechai Hatzaddik wouldn’t tolerate chutzpah

And told Queen Esther not to let it get her down:

“Go tell the King that you’re sure not from MIZPAH:

You’re a proud Yiddine serving Hashem from old TAYLORTOWN.”

So Esther made two parties for the King and for Haman—as she felt she was bidden,

And you can be certain that the food made them both fatter, son,

And since she served CARMEL wine, which she’d brought from LINDEN,

They were both way too drunk to drive back to PATERSON.

It was then that Esther served dessert that was so SWEETMAN

That Achashverosh first noticed that from her fast she was pale.

“Why, Esther,” he murmured, “Did you buy this in STEVENS?

Don’t be so scared: you could have bought it in VAIL!”

At that very moment Esther retorted, “Hey, King, hark

To what I had planned to tell you when I visited STANHOPE:

Haman Harasha, who once was the comptroller of CLARK,

Wants to kill me and my people and is eager to ban hope.”

“What!” screamed the King. “You miserable cur!” (the ruler’s comment was biting).

“You would dare to do that even in the city of DARETOWN?

Why, you’ll hang from a gallows in the town square of WHITING,

For I’ll never, ever let such a tzaddekes-queen down!”

Yup, the moral of our story is: LaYedhudim hoysaw simchah v’orah;

How marvelous that Hashem saved our people (and you know what that means).

So next time you happen to be in the vicinity of GLENDORA,

Be prepared to celebrate with the happy-go-lucky citizens of DEANS.

Yes it’s Purim again, so let’s all become jolly

And remember—please do—Whom it is you must thank:

Hashem Yisborach does miracles even in MT. HOLLY,

Not to mention in a place named TOWN BANK.

Now that my long tale is over, I think I’ll go that-a-way,

Back to my ancestral home—but guess where I’ll be on the day of joy’s focus:

Right here in New Persey—I mean, New Jersey—in the town of PISCATAWAY.

But I intend to eat my Purim seudah in—where else? ha! ha! HO-HO-KUS!

But if you dislike this poem, why not eat your seudah in BYRAM,

Or chew up your CHEESEQUAKE if you’ll eat dairy in LOPATCONG?

I intend to be WATCHUNG: If you find a better poet, just go out and hire ‘im.

Anyhow, a freilichen Purim to all those in WANAMASSA and my friends in NETCONG!

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And to all of you in Marine Park, the most freilichen Purim ever!