There's No Antidote for a Good Anecdote!
Some years ago, after Sabbath services, a group of us went to an ice cream parlor to relax and fellowship. One of the fellows who came along was visiting from another church area, and we wanted to get to know him better. As the course of the afternoon wore on, though, it became obvious to everyone -- except the fellow himself -- that he was not the witty conversationalist he fancied himself to be. He may also have been a little hard of hearing, because he tended to speak rather loudly, in a flat tone of voice. He went on at great length about the Jews. "Now, you got your two types of Jews," he said. "You got your 'basic' Jew, and you got your 'Assidic' Jew." He apparently wasn't aware that he was mispronouncing "Hassidic," and probably couldn't remember the designation "Ashkenazi," so he simply called that group "your basic Jew." He also was unaware that, as he droned on and on, people in the restaurant kept staring at the fellow (and us) as the boring monologue continued. After what seemed like a brief eternity, the man finished his visit and departed, leaving a few church people there to sit and shudder at what we had been through.
A young man in the church came over then, and sat down beside me. "You know," he said, "I couldn't help but overhear that man talking about the 'basic' Jews and the 'Assidic' Jews." I nodded and winced in embarrassment. "But I was just wondering," he continued. "Don't the basic and the acidic cancel each other out?"