Beat: My rabbi caught me smoking pot in my car....

[nineinchal]

This is a true story that happened to me one summer. I was drving in my car in my neighborhood (Canarsie, Brooklyn, New York) about thirty years ago. The rabbi rolled up along side of me while I was taking a deep hit digging on The Who. He looked, saw it was me and then lifted his hands up and rubbed one of his index fingers along his other index finger as if to say shame, shame, shame.

A week later, I was at the Chinese restaurant in Monticello, New York, enjoying my shrimp with lobster sauce and pork fried rice after a good jay and a hard weed munch. Who walks in? My rabbi without his yarmulke thinking he was incognito. I gave him the shame, shame, shame sign.