It was a long time ago, at the time of the Dotkomov bubble. All Russian immigrants suddenly discovered a talent for programming. I taught programming at Business School. I had a student from Odessa. In Odessa he was the chief of the sausage shop, and it was unique, since he was almost the only non-party chief. According to his stories, the partorg of the enterprise regularly caught him somewhere near the shop, grabbed his sleeves and wondered:
Why don’t you go to the party?
He was thirsty lying, saying, I am non-partisan, what should I do there?
Then the CPSU dissolved, the USSR ended and he moved to America, where he began playing drums in restaurant jazz. And with the beginning of the growth of the demand for programmers (with decent salaries) decided to re-learn. He comes to class and says:
I walked past the synagogue yesterday, and a crowd of people came out of it. Among them is our parrot. He grabs my sleeve and asks, “Are you not going to the synagogue?”