My First Yarmulke.

I am not and never have been a member of The Communist Party.
This is not to suggest that I have not partied with Communists, been taught history by them, or laughed at Groucho Marx. But everybody knows those pinko-commie-scumbags are a serious threat to our Democratic, Capitalist peaceloving way of life. This idea that you could have a successful state that is concerned with the welfare of The People is one step away from other deviant, sick ideas. If you just start giving people free money, helping them out for free, asking people to contribute taxes from their HARD EARNED income to some ethereal chimera masquerading under the misnomer "the public good", you circumvent the great Scottish Economist and American Founding Father Adam Smith's ingenious and influential realization that The Divine Hand moves in the god-given human traits of greed and free competitiveness.

Sadly, I am also not Jewish, a fact that sickens me every waking minute of my life. Although I was raised Swedenborgian, I'm ALMOST Jewish, although my girlfriend (M.A., Anthropology, The University of South Carolina) lets out a loud snort of disgust every time I pull myself up to my full nebbish height and announce that my Grandfather in East London, whom I have never met, is of Semitic origin. But as luck would have it, today I was given--that's right, GIVEN--my first yarmulke. Granted the little black yarmulke had been lurking in one Mr. E. Marks's (coincidence? I think not. AND he happens to be a very funny guy) sport-coat pocket, obviously having lain there following some funeral, but who cares? Truly the Divine Hand has moved and it has chosen me to be its, er, His of Her Humble Servant.