Is there a Yiddle who has not heard the word mehtseeuh? Ask any Jewish person the meaning of the word – just out of curiosity, of course – and you should get some interesting responses.
You see, mehtseeuh has several connotations, depending not only on the content but also on facial expression and body language.
For example, Yankel Zetser notices an ad for a “once in a lifetime” coat sale. He excitedly drives to Yenem’s Clothing Outlet. After entering the store, he rushes to the coat section and searches for his size. He finds a coat with the previous $200 price tag intact and noticeably scratched out. He purchases the coat and eagerly returns home to let his vibel (wife) know what a great mehtseeuh he had purchased.
If he paid $175 for the coat, his vibel’s comment is, “Yankel, that’s a mehtseeuh but nisht gefehrlich (not too great),” and her eyebrows are slightly elevated. Now, if Yankel purchased the coat for $150, her comment is, “Yankel, not bad, but you should have gotten it for less.” And her eyebrows move like an elevator up and down. If, on the other hand, Yankel purchased the coat for $90, her comment “Yankeleh, oy, is that a mehtseeuh, with her head wagging from right to left. However, if, chas vesholom (heaven forbid) Yankel discovers a damaged area on the coat, her comment is, “Yankel, did you find a mehtseeuh! An authentic Chinese shmahteh (rag)! Right?”
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The word mehtseeuh was used in reference to an incident that occurred in a cheder (school) many moons ago. In those days, one of the extracurricular activities in the classroom was tossing paper wads known as “spitballs.” They were produced by chewing a piece of paper until its original form changed into an indescribable piece of garbage. Next, it was removed from the mouth and twirled in the fingers until it resembled a tiny ball. Wasn’t that a bit unsanitary” you may ask. Sanitation, shmanitation; who cared? In those days people licked stamps! The spitballs were mass produced, so to speak, and after accumulating a pile of spitballs, the battle began, as they were flung toward the “enemy camp,” otherwise known as the opposite side of the classroom. The spitball battle was on, and the oysgehmatert (exhausted) teacher ducked out of the way!
The spitballs were either forcibly blown out of the mouth or hurled across the room with a type of catapult called a ruler. This was accomplished by placing the spitball on one side of the ruler and flinging the second side outward: ah groyseh oyftee (a great accomplishment). Spitball battles sometimes were so intense that afterwards the room was carpeted with dozens of spitballs.
And then came a weapon called a peashooter, which consisted of a plastic tube used to propel hard peas that were stored in the cheeks. Being struck by a hard pea was painful, and sometimes kids left the classroom with red welts on their face and neck.
The question is, what does all this have to do with mehtseeuh? So hare zich tsu (give a listen): Mendel Kahler (not his real name) was a leader in one of the spitball battles. Doss hayst (that means) that he encouraged others to join in the fray. Finally, the teacher got fed up with him, so he grabbed Mendel, guided him towards the trash can, and proceeded to place his feet in the can so that Mendel was stuck, without a chance to run away. Now the “fun” began, as the teacher began pahtching (slapping) Mendel until he assured him that he would become a tzadik. (good boy). Did the assurance work? Do assurances to classroom “tzadikim” (i.e., trouble makers) ever work?
Mendel hobbled back to his seat, but a few minutes later he created new havoc by shooting paper wads at the ceiling, where the damp wads would soon drop on others. “Genug!” shouted the teacher. “Enough is enough!” And he sent the “shaygitsdiker” boy to the office with a note stating, “Mendel mafria (is making trouble). Please keep!” The principal telephoned Mendel’s father and told him, “Do me a favor and nem dine mehtseeuh ah haym (take your bargain home)! As to Mendel’s fate, he behaved for about a week afterwards.
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Another mehtseeuh tale: An enterprising yunger mahn (young man) decided to go into business. Several ads in the local newspaper offered business entrepreneurs the opportunity to purchase ah gesheft (business). One offered a stock of shoes for a small amount. He forwarded a check to the company, and the shoes were delivered to his home. After examining one of the boxes, however, he noticed that something was wrong. Were the shoes odd sizes or made of poor quality leather? Not exactly. The problem was that both shoes in the box were for the right foot He examined the other boxes, and ess iz ehm nisht goot gevoren (he got the jitters), because all shoes were right footed! As for the shoe sender, he was gone with the wind. When the young man’s friends heard about the shoe episode, he had a hard time avoiding their oft-repeated, annoying question: “Nu, have you found any more mehtseeuhs lately?”
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The word mehtseeuh is also used to describe various human interactions, like this pre-shidduch scene: Yankel Lipshitz (not his real name) was a post-teenage student who met Chaya Zeeser (not her real name), an “eligible for marriage” young lady. In the “good old days” in Baltimore, a couple went on a date to a movie or a kosher restaurant, such as Liebes. Anyone remember? Today couples shmooz in places like a hotel lobby and discuss “tachlis” (future marriage plans). If there is interest and they agree, the next step is receiving parental approval.
Following this pattern, Yankel arranged to meet with the Zeesers. He arrived at their house and nervously rang the door bell. Following some chatter about the weather and the state of affairs in the government, the “exam” began:
Zeeser: So where are you from?
Yankel: Hoboken New Jersey. (Shoin tsoress, trouble already, because of the word hobo in Hoboken)
Zeeser: And what’s your family name?
Yankel: My parents are Mendel and Sheindl Lipshitz.
Zeeser: And what does your father do for a living?
Yankel: He works for The Fendel and Vendel Pot Company.
Zeeser: What’s his status with the company?
Yankel: He makes pots and pans. (Now Yankel is getting edgy.)
Zeeser: How many brothers do you have?
Yankel: None.
Zeeser: And how many sisters?
Yankel: None.
Zeeser: And what shul do you attend?
Yankel: I attend a Carlbach minyan. (Zeeser’s eyebows are “floating.”)
Zeeser: Nu, nisht gefehrlich (not terrible). What do you do for a living?
Yankel: A living?
Zeeser Yes, pahr-naw-saw(livelihood).
Yankel: A good question. Actually I’m a student.
Zeeser: Zehr shayn (very nice). What are you studying?
Yankel: A good question. I’m not sure. Maybe business.
Zeeser: Fine, fine, Nice meeting you….
Yankel was accompanied to the front door, and after he departed, Mr. Zeeser turned to his wife, put a hand on his chin and uttered, “Oy did she find a mehtseeuh!”
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Another mehtseeuh miseh: Recently, there was a $200 sale on a choshuv (important) pair of Nike tennis shoes. When word got out that the shoes were a “limited edition,” the Nike fans went bonkers. Doss hayst (that means) they were ready to go to war to obtain these rare shoes. After all, how can a person miss such a mehtseeuh? The sale was scheduled for the following day, but the bargain seekers rushed to the store and slept on the sidewalk waiting for the doors to open.
In the morning, the Nike fans rioted, and the police had to be alerted. The police attempted to quell the turmoil, but things were out of control as frenzied shoppers clobbered and injured one another. Bones were broken and trampled victims were hospitalized. Due to the bedlam, the store refused to open its doors, and the sale was called off. The mehtseeuh urge was quelled until another day….
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A final mehtseeuh miseh: Many moons ago, my daughters, zolen zay zine gezund (may they be well) had a fear of dogs. They hesitated leaving the house if they heard a dog barking, and they ran in the opposite direction if a dog approached them. So voss zoll mehn tawn (what to do)? Discussing their fear of dogs did not alleviate the problem, so we began doing what the experts recommended – that is, we began searching for a pet. What type of pet? A hintel (small dog) what else?
There was an ad in the local newspaper offering a free dog to a “qualified” person. I notified the dog owner and visited his Towson residence. Upon entering the house, I was greeted by several howling dogs and decided to take the nearest exit – so to speak. However, the dog balhaboss assured me that his chayes were like a welcoming committee and meant me no harm. Next, he showed me a dog that looked like it had had much better days! It had drooping eyelids, saliva dripping from its mouth and hinked (limped) on one leg. Arthritis for sure.
Nu, I thought, doss failt mihr (that’s not exactly what I need). He began explaining the attributes of the dog, but when he was convinced that I was not interested, he presented another animal, a frisky puppy so tiny that fit into a jacket pocket. Nu, I thought, this pup may do the trick. The owner placed it in a small box and told me that he wanted to visit the dog in two months. I agreed and headed for home hoping that things would go smoothly and that the girls would enjoy the new pet.
Upon entering the house, the girls looked at the puppy, the puppy stared at them, and as they say, it was love at first sight. They named the puppy Fifi, and we looked forward to having a nice pet that would help end their fear of dogs. They soon grew so attached to Fifi that we had to curb the time that they spent with her.
Does the story end here? Vais ich voss (not exactly), because “fun” with Fifi was just beginning. She matured quickly, and being part Manchester terrier – vair vais (who knows) her other yiches (ancestry) – she became a vilder chayeh (wild animal). Voss hayst (what does that mean)? you may ask. This hoont respected the mishpacha but strangers were considered enemy number one! The mailman feared her like the plague, and when the gas and electric person checked the meter, he was rewarded with teeth marks on his ankle! Fifi even chased after the principal of my school, who lived nearby – a miseh in itself!
A cousin visited us and when observing the dog’s vilder (wild) behavior asked: “Where did you find this mehtseeuh??
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Ah klal, it seems that people always search for mehtseeuhs, but at times what appeared to be a bargain is something they didn’t bargain for! Dehr emess iz (the truth is) that Hashem gives us an authentic bargain every day – LIFE – and for that mehtseeuh we should always be thankful!
