Every Hoochik in Hooburg loved Hanukkah a lot
But the Gridz, who lived on Mount Bubkes, did not.
The Gridz hated Hanukkah, each day and night of it
But please don’t ask why he hated the sight of it.
It could be his yarmulke was on much too tight.
It could be his shmatas didn’t fit him quite right.
But I think the Gridz about Hanukkah was fooled
Because he did not know the meaning, he had not been to shul.
But whatever the reason, his education or fashion,
The Gridz on Mount Bubkes hated Hanukkah with a passion.
Staring down through the darkness, with a sour Gridz punim,
At the warm, lighted windows of the Hoochiks below him,
He saw every Hoochik in Hooburg down lower
Was busy now polishing a Hanukkah menorah.
“And they’re stocking up candles!” he said with a sneer,
“The first night of Hanukkah must be very near!”
“I must stop Hanukkah from coming but, nu,
Just when does it come? I haven’t a clue.”
It’s the twenty-fifth day of Kislev, the Hoochiks remember,
Which is sometimes in the winter, but could fall in November.
“But”, The Gridz said, “the thing which makes me much sorer
Is the lighting of all the Hanukkah menorahs.
Because then! Oy the lights! Oy the Lights! Lights! Lights! Lights!
The thing I hate most! Oy, those eight nights of lights!
And the Hoochiks of Hooburg will sit down for a feast
With big plates full of latkes fried up in hot grease.
They will eat mounds of latkes. They’ll eat soufganiot,
So sweet it would make the Gridz gag in his throat.
And THEN they’ll do something that is as bad as the light.
Each Hoochik in Hooburg will proudly recite.
They’ll recite the whole story of the Maccabees war.
They’ll recite how the Temple was finally restored.
Then Hanukkah songs! Every Hoochik will be singing.
They’ll sing ‘til the old Gridz’s eardrums are ringing.
All the songs at loud decibels. All the lights’ kilowatts.
All THIS made the old Gridz so mad he could plotz!
And then the more the Gridz thought of this Hanukkah shtik,
The more the Gridz thought, “This whole thing makes me sick!”
Why for hundreds of years they’ve been doing it now!
I must stop Hanukkah from coming!----But HOW!?
Then the Gridz got a plan. It’s a plan that just suits ya,
If you’re a Gridz, ‘cause this plan takes a whole lot of chutzpah.
If I find a nice robe and a tallis to grab, I
Can sneak into Hooburg dressed up as a rabbi.
When he looked in the mirror, he stared and he kvelled,
“I look so much like a rabbi that no one can tell.”
Then from up on Mount Bubkes, he started on down
Toward the homes where the Hoochiks lay a-snooze in their town.
When he came to the first little house on the square,
He paused, wondering how he could get inside there.
Then he found he could easily open the lock
For the Hoochiks are trusting and their locks are just shlock.
Then around the whole house he stole and he shlepped
And he found where all of the presents were kept.
He took presents and dreidels and Hanukkah gelt,
Chocolate Maccabees, matches and, he certainly felt,
That the one thing he must be sure to accomplish
Was stealing the candles, including the Shamash.
Then he shlepped to the fridge and he stole every nosh.
He stole all the latkes. He stole applesauce.
He stole sour cream. He stole oil. Oy, gevault!
He stole ALL the ingredients for soufganiot.
Then he packed all these things and he carried his bundles
And tossed them outside to cart home on his trundle.
And then that shlepping, gridzhidiker shnorrer
Said, “Just one more thing. I will steal the menorah.”
And he thought he would get away so easy and slick,
When he heard the small voice of a little Hoochik.
Then he turned around fast and saw a girl about sixish.
It was Sadie Leigh Hoochik, who started to kibbitz.
”Lift with your knees, Rabbi. Don’t strain your back.
Say, why are you taking our things in that sack?”
She stared at the Gridz and said, “Rabbi, gee whiz,
Why did you take our Menorah? What gives?”
But you know that old Gridz was so smart and so slick
He thought up an answer and he thought it up quick.
“Why you see, Sadieleh, this menorah’s no good.
The candle holders are broken, the thing is kaput.
So, I’ll get you a new one that was brought here from Israel.
But don’t worry your head. I can get it for wholesale.”
Sadie thought that this was a cockamamie reason
But it was too cold to stand there, her feet were just freezin’
So she crawled under the covers of her warm little bed,
The Gridz grabbed the menorah, then, quickly, he fled.
He had emptied the house and emptied it quick,
Except for one drop of oil, not enough for one wick.
He went to each Hoochik’s house, playing his dirty tricks
Leaving oil drops too small for their candlewicks.
Before the Hoochiks had wakened, he had everything bundled.
Then back to the top of mount Bupkes he trundled.
And he sat there with shpilkes and wearing a frown,
Waiting all day for the sun to go down.
For sundown would signal the start of the day,
And all of the Hoochiks would be shouting, “Oy vey!”
“For, just about now,” he was Gridzily hissing,
“The Hoochiks are discovering that Hanukkah’s missing.
There’ll be such a tsimis, so much tsuris this night
That, just this one time, I wish there was light.”
He wished he could see all the Hoochiks’ sad faces
When they found Hanukkah gone without any traces.
“But at least I can put up my hand to my ear;
For, when they start crying, THAT I want to hear.”
And he did hear a noise, but it was NOT sad.
He heard people singing and they sounded glad.
They told the Hanukkah story, which they could recite
To the children, without even candles to light.
They recited and sang. They sang and they prayed.
Hanukkah seemed to have come, and it stayed.
He hadn’t stopped Hanukkah from coming! It came!
Some how or other, it came just the same.
What’s more, the Hoochiks worked and they toiled
And gathered up all of those small bits of oil.
They gathered the oil, all those small little bits,
Which made only enough to light one of the wicks.
And the Gridz just watched them and sat there amazed,
For, believe it or not, the oil burned eight days.
And all of those days, the Gridz sat there and pondered
The miracle happening in Hooburg down yonder.
As the Gridz sat there, as the oil was burning,
Finally, finally, the Gridz did some learning.
At sundown, beginning the last Hanukkah day,
The Gridz stood up and smiled a strange way.
“Hanukkah’s not about presents,” he said.
“It’s about freedom to enjoy your religion instead.”
The Gridz learned something important that night.
You might say, finally, the Gridz SAW the light.
So with one final day of Hanukkah to go,
The Gridz took back their stuff to the Hoochiks below.
He too back menorahs and presents and dreidels,
He took back the fry pans, utensils and ladles.
He took back the food and (now this thing may shock ya)
The Gridz, he himself, fried up the first latke.
(Note: This was written about 15 years ago, before "The Putz Who Stole Hanukkah" or Gridz software was written.)
The asymmetrical Jewish issue manifests itself most notably in packages of kosher hot dogs. Kosher hot dogs are simply the best tasting, but that’s a subject for another day. The problem with them is that they come 7 to a package. The buns are 8 to a package. Since 7 is a prime number, the least common multiple of 7 and 8 is 7 X 8, or 56. You have to serve 56 hot dogs to make it come out even. To use them all, we could have a big BBQ in the back yard, but that will never happen. Why? Because Jews don’t have backyard BBQ parties. 
Look at all those different styles of candles! There is no freaking standard size! The same thing goes for the candleholder parts of your Hanukkiah. 
Do you know how many nit-picky, detailed laws and procedures are in the Torah? Precise steps are written for how to prepare a sacrifice or wear clothes or any number of things (probably an irrational number of things). Beyond the Torah, there are specific rules on how to ensure that kosher hot dogs are kosher. So, could there be a rule that says you put eight hot dogs in a package or you standardize the candleholders and candles for Hanukkah? Eh. I guess God did not find this important.
