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Here are skits and sketches that were performed on Dave’s Gone By over the years. Enjoy!
For this week’s StoryTime segment on Dave’s Gone By, Rabbi Sol Solomon continues to read from David Hu’s book, “The P Word.”
This segment aired June 1, 2024 as part of the 946th “Dave’s Gone By” video podcast program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz. Full episodes also available on youtube, Facebook (davesgoneby), and on DavesGoneBy.com.
All content (c)2024 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
Visit shalomdammit.com for more on the Rabbi.
Dave’s Gone By Skit (5/25/2024): STORYTIME: Rabbi Sol Solomon Reads “The P Word,” Part 1
For this week’s StoryTime segment on Dave’s Gone By, Rabbi Sol Solomon reads the first part of David Hu’s book, “The P Word.”
This segment aired May 25, 2024 as part of the 945th “Dave’s Gone By” video podcast program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz. Full episodes also available on youtube, Facebook (davesgoneby), and on DavesGoneBy.com.
All content (c)2024 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #185 (5/4/2024): Three Cheers for the NYPD
airs May 4, 2024 on Dave’s Gone By. Youtube video:
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for early May 2024.
Credit where credit is due. And I don’t mean the credit cards where I owe 30 percent interest on a sofa I bought in 2014. No, I’m talking about: let’s applaud a job well done in a tremendously difficult situation.
Ever since George Floyd — you know, the drug addict, thief, armed robber, and counterfeiter who was horribly murdered by overzealous law enforcement — ever since that subject for statues became a symbol for systemic racism, cops have been betwixt and between. On the one hand, they face loathing from communities where, admittedly, they behaved badly for decades. On the other, they’re expected to be models of self-control while putting their lives on the line. Picture trying to do your job when the very people you are tasked to protect are shouting to defund you. Imagine that you take pride in serving the Big Apple, yet you’re automatically lumped in with the bad apples.
And now imagine that you’ve been called to a college campus where hundreds of deluded 20-somethings — whose age alone would mark them as enemies of authority — imagine that these liberal loonies and BIPOC buttheads have overtaken a major American university. As part of their tantrum, they’ve camped out on the lawn, blocked access to thoroughfares, and even vandalized a building. The school President has hithered and dithered, not wanting to spark violence or squelch free speech, but terrified to lose benefactors who might balk at endowing a university whose main export has become anti-Semitism.
By the time Columbia’s leader, Minouche Shafik, realized things had gotten out of control, things had gotten out of control. What to do? What to do? Let the monkeys run amok? Surrender Hamilton Hall, Lewisohn Hall, Kravis Hall, the ironically named “Harmony Hall” — all to a bunch of tent-pitching yahoos who couldn’t find Gaza on a map, a map in a bookstore, a bookstore in a city, and a city on their non-stop TikTok feeds?
At a certain point, order must be restored. It doesn’t matter that the disrupters were non-violent, and it wouldn’t matter if they were there supportingIsrael against the demons of Hamas. They were asked to leave and refused. They were commanded to leave, and instead, smashed windows and home-invaded the administration building.
That’s when you send in the cops. With riot gear.
And that, finally, is what President Shafik did. After a week of letting the hyenas run the zoo, she called in the NYPD who, with exceptional restraint and by-the-book behavior, broke up Hamas on the Hudson. Crying sophomores, shrieking professors, double-talking outside agitators — rounded up, plunked on paddy wagons, and slapped on the wrists, alas, but at least temporarily out of commission.
This, my friends, is how it’s done. Because, God knows, the cops showed more self-control than I would have to these Morningside morons. The first one to shout “Free Gaza” would have to do it through a mouth full of broken teeth. The first holding a “Divest” sign would have to hoist it with cracked knuckles. And the first Jew tweeting “Cease Fire Now!” would have so much mace sprayed in her face, her eyes would turn all four colors of the Palestinian flag.
This is why I am not a cop. This is also why the New York Police Department — and every Blue brigade that’s been summoned to these conflagrations — deserves oodles of kudos for the job they did and the way they did it. I’m sure many of these officers agreed with the protesters — we’re not talking Einsteins here, on either side of the grass — but they followed reasonable directions in a professional manner, and they deserve our gratitude and admiration.
And when the green-tent vermin swarm back onto the lawns of Columbia, NYU, Yale, UCLA, or any other ivy-choked nest of minacious radicalism, let the liars on the left be met head on by what’s right.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York.
(c)2024 TotalTheater. All rights reserved.
RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #184 (4/27/2024): A Passover Prayer
airs April 27, 2024 on Dave’s Gone By. Youtube video:
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for these last few days of Passover 2024.
A zissen Pesach my friends, and I hope you are having a fun holiday, with maximal contemplation and minimal constipation. Actually, this year is less likely to afflictus with intestinal binding than gastric reflux: we want to throw up at everything around us.
That’s why I’ve written this little prayer that you can append to your Haggadahs this Passover. It’s an appeal to God to get off his lazy tuchas and help us, just as he did in Egypt. He doesn’t have to show himself as a burning bush; he could set Ilhan Omar’s public hair on fire: same thing.
Anyway, here is a Prayer for late Pesach:
Blessed art thou, Oh Lord, our God. King of the Universe. (Or Queen, He can be gender-ridiculous). Blessed be He who sanctifies us with a holiday that deprives us of bread yet consoles us with Joyva Ring Jells; where we are scourged by horse radish, soothed by charoses, and confused by putting them together; and where we learn morality by letting a child hide the Afikoman and then rewarding him for thievery and blackmail.
Dear God, in these times of woe, when the land of Israel rages and Jew-haters have slithered from their cages, we implore thee to restore righteousness in the world. To vanquish our foes, as you did the Amalekites and the Canaanites, and sometimes the Monday nites. Oh Lord, protect the tiny nation of Eretz Yisroel and smite our enemies. For example:
May Hamas fighters see their tunnels turn to caskets, their caskets turned to dust, and their dust hoovered up by your ugliest cleaning lady.
May you lift the Palestinians up, up, up out of Israel and deposit them in a galaxy far, far away. Or at least Kuwait.
May Iraq get so fed up with Iran for being only one letter different, that the two blow each other to bits, which will be especially amusing to Jews named “Ira.”
May the United Nations vote to sanction itself out of existence and have to relinquish its New York headquarters to a Judaica superstore.
May every Western woman who supports the Arab world actually have to live, as a woman, in the Arab world.
May the marching students of Columbia and New York Universities be boiled in acid and then, ironically, fail their chemistry exams.
May the idiots posting anti-Zionist misinformation on TikTok be forced to use Dos dial-up just to get WiFi.
May the members of “Queers for Palestine” be bent over and their assholes stuffed with razor wire. And AIDS.
May every troglodyte who scrawls “Death to Israel” in graffiti on a public edifice be given a 1972 station wagon and forced to circle the building eternally looking for parking.
May every Arab who danced a jig on October 7th have their legs hacked off and fed to starving woodchucks, and may those marmots come back while the cripples are sleeping and vomit in their mouths.
May every Jew who betrays Israel in favor of “Palestine” be forced to eat matzoh made of ground glass and soaked in rat poison. In thy mercy.
And may whoever becomes President of the United States live four more years — and that’s a stretch right there — to see Israel triumph, her children multiply, her enemies divide and die, and her friends figure out a way to make even a bacon cheeseburger Kosher for Passover.
V’yimeru, Amen.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York.
(c)2024 TotalTheater. All rights reserved.
—>
Rabbi Sol Solomon’s Rabbinical Reflection #183 (4/20/24): PASSOVER 2024
This Rabbinical Reflection first aired April 20, 2024 on the Dave’s Gone By video podcast.
Rabbi Sol Solomon offers reflections, and a timely poem, to celebrate this year’s particularly potent Passover holiday.
Rabbi Sol’s Rabbinical Reflections are heard on the long-running Dave’s Gone By radio/video podcast program (davesgoneby.com) and then archived as text and audio on the Rebbe’s blog, Shalomdammit.com, where a transcript of this Reflection may be read.
Rabbi Sol is also the creator of the stage show, “Shalom Dammit! An Evening with Rabbi Sol Solomon,” which played in NYC in Nov. 2011 and Aug. 2012.
© 2024 TotalTheater Productions. All Rights Reserved.
TRANSCRIPT:
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for the 2024 Passover holiday.
Yes, my friends, it’s matzoh time again! Time to change the silverware, cover your tables, sell your leavened food and then buy it back when it’s stale — time to welcome a holiday that throws your life into chaos, just for a big meal that’s supposed to be about order. That’s the seder. Seder means order, structure, in Hebrew. So at the seder, we do one activity after another after another, in order, for two hours before we finally get to eat. Then we dine on wonderful things like horse radish and boiled eggs and flat bread that uses cardboard as its flavor profile. Mmm mmm, constipated!
But we do this, of course, to commemorate a miracle. Our Jewish ancestors, who spent decades as slaves to the Pharaohs, high-tailed it out of Egypt, thanks to Moses, his brother Aaron, and a God that actually talked to people back then. Or at least to Moses. They had that kind of relationship.
And so, 3500 years ago, the Jews left Eretz Mitzrayim, crossed the Red Sea — which slowly parted for them like the legs of an arthritic hooker—and wandered the desert for 40 years till all of them were dead. But their children made it to Israel. And that’s where the Jews have stayed until this very day. And, current events notwithstanding, they ain’t goin’ anywhere.
For decades now, I’ve ranted and raved and driven home one idea that even a pinhead like Susan Sarandon should understand: Israel is for Jews. Arabs can live anywhere else. Why don’t they? If all these Muslim countries refuse to make a home for their Palestinian brothers, well, that’s just too bad. There’s no reason the Palis can’t have a couple dozen square miles of Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Algeria, Mali, Pakistan,Turkmenistan, or Dearborn, Michigan. Palestinians want a country so bad? Give them one…far away. Suck them out of Gaza and the West Bank so Israelis can be free and safe…surrounded by a dozen countries that despise them.
Yet for all the horrible news and the burgeoning anti-Semitism, we can muster a smile or two this Pesach holiday. On Thursday, the president of Columbia University—an Arab no less—looked at the swarm of hippie hooligans disobeying orders to vacate the college’s lawns and said, finally, “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the cops.” They stayed, in came the riot squad, and more than a hundred imbeciles were arrested and suspended—not for being anti-Israel (that’s a given for these smelly hermaphrodites) but for trespassing on private property and assuming their bleeding-heart wokeness would be an impermeable escutcheon. Understand that they were non-violent, and so were the cops. Everybody got what they came for: President Shafik got her lawn back (for a day), the cops made their quota without a single speeding ticket, and the brats got on TV crying and laughing and showing every employer in America who not to hire at the next job fair.
On top of this heartening development of cracking down on crackpots—there’s more amazing news. A week ago, Iran sent hundreds of missiles streaming into Israel. I think one of them hit. All the rest were intercepted and bombed out of the sky by the vaunted “iron dome.” Where that dome was on October 7th is another story, but at least this time, it worked like gangbusters. Or bomb-busters. And after that, Israel hit back with a bunch of mini-drones that were mini enough to do minimal damage but scary enough to make the Tehran tyrants think twice about escalation.
So in these anxious and ugly times, when Jews face hatred from stupid goyim, and Israel faces hatred from stupid Jews, we can be thankful for some godly interventions that are at least trying to restore order. Seder.
And for those who still equate Zionism with oppressive colonialism as opposed to…”my house, my rules,” here’s some poetic justice:
“From the river to the sea, Hamas had better flee.
`Cuz way back in `48, the world made Israel a Jewish state.
The Arabs are welcome to work and play, but if you hurt us, we will slay.
We’ll bomb the tunnels Hamas built and turn their houses into silt.
If you prick us, we will bleed, but then we’ll get you, guaranteed.
If you’re a young and left-wing loony spewing your shit at the Ivies and SUNY
Not realizing Al Qaeda, Al Aqsa, Hamas
Are all the same evil, with all the same boss?
Please know that the monsters who caused 9/11
are back as the same butchers of October 7.
Yet millions of Arabs select them as leaders
and pledge their allegiance to these bottom feeders
who’ve vowed to push Israel straight off the map
Which is why we must blot them, like wiping up crap.
If they think they’ll win and cause Israel to vanish
“Joder a sus madres.” Look it up — it’s Spanish.
Israel will fight to the very last Jew — and make no mistake, they’re fighting for you.
`Cause if Muslims win, new maps they will draw that put the whole world under Sharia law.
So Israel will struggle, as lies leave her friendless
And Israel will fight, though the fighting is endless.
And Israel will win because Israel must and grind our foes into cockroach dust.
From Haifa to Tiberius, IDF is dead serious
From Kiryat Shmona all the way to Eilat, the Arabs can lick Golda Meir’s hairy grey twat.
From the sea to the river, we’ll make Hamas quiver.
And for year after year, Israel stays here.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York. Happy Pesach seder to you — from border to border, we will restore order.
(c)2024 TotalTheater. All rights reserved.
Some jokes to mark the recent passing of pass rusher O.J. Simpson.
“My Sick Mind: O.J. Simpson” first aired on Dave’s Gone By, Sat, April 13, 2024.
Host: Dave Lefkowitz
All content (c)2024 TotalTheater Productions.
MY SICK MIND – O.J. Simpson
What’s the best thing about worms and maggots’ breakfast this week?
They’re having O.J.
Why will O.J. have a quick funeral?
Because he was known for rushing.
When OJ was having money troubles, he tried his hand at stand-up comedy.
He killed.
To O.J. Simpson, what’s the difference between first down and second down?
Nicole was first down; Ron Goldman was the second down.
Why are college kids so disappointed that O.J. Simpson was killed by cancer?
Because they can’t blame Israel for it.
Why will Kim Kardashian never live up to the standard set by her father?
Kim Kardashian has a big ass and fucked a guy named Ray-J.
Robert Kardashian was a big ass and fucked the whole legal system.
How do we know a dying O.J. still missed doing car-rental commercials?
He kept moaning, “Hertz! Hertz!”
Did you know that O.J.’s father was an African drag queen?
“Awisha Yuzdarubba”
How did O.J. Simpson mature from child to grownup?
As a boy, he did ticket scalping. As a man, he said, “Who needs tickets?”
They found O.J. Simpson’s diaries. Turns out he never used hyphens.
Just a lot of slashes.
What made Nicole Brown Simpson the ideal Jewish wife?
She stopped moving, but O.J. kept penetrating her… and he got off!
RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #182 (3/23/2024): Jokes for Purim 2024
airs March 23, 2024 on Dave’s Gone By. Youtube clip: https://youtu.be/A3rIw1W5OFs
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for the joyous holiday of Purim.
Purim is one of those times when the Jews faced brutal annihilation and yet were somehow spared and got revenge — kinda like… last year. When reading the Purim story, the megillah, we use noisemakers to drown out the name of our bitterest antagonist, Haman, which is Persian for “Sarandon.” We also dress in costumes so the IRS won’t recognize us, and we’re supposed to get so drunk we’re unable to distinguish our friends from our enemies. In that way we’re like left-wing Democrats.
My manner of celebrating the Purim simcha is to laugh. Ha ha ha. But so I don’t seem psychotic, I attach my laughter to jokes. Freud said that comedy is an expression of the subconscious battling to be heard in a society that drowns out anything non-conformist. (I think that’s what he said; I don’t speak German.) So let’s examine the psyche of a couple of classic Jewish jokes:
Yankel has found this girl on J-Date, and he’s meeting in person for the first time. They’ve got an 8 o’clock reservation to meet at the swankiest Kosher restaurant in town, but it’s 7:50, and Yankel is circling the block unable to find a parking space. He drives around again and still no spot. Finally, he prays to God, he says, “God, this girl might be my bashert. Please let me find parking.”
But nothing opens up, and Yankel keeps driving. It’s now 7:55, and Yankel’s beside himself. “God,” he says, “If you find me a parking spot, I’ll never miss Friday services again.”
Still, no spaces, and he circles `round the block. Now it’s 7:59, and he’s frantic. He calls out to HaShem, “God, I swear, if you find me a spot, I’ll donate $500 to the United Jewish Appeal.” Suddenly, right in front of the restaurant, a car pulls out leaving a space. Yankel says, “Never mind, God. I found one.”
What does this joke tell us about taking the Lord’s name in vain? That we do it. That under duress, we are apt to say anything, make any promise. it’s what every person does going into surgery hoping they’ll come out of surgery. It’s every horny putz who tells a girl he’ll still respect her in the morning, and it’s every girl who believes him. It’s anyone who eats half a pizza pie and says, “Oy God, I’m never eating again.” Two hours later: “What, there’s one slice left over? Lemme just finish it.”
Humans show an uncanny talent for pivoting from need to satiation and right back to need. The little stops they make along the way to fulfill those needs — well, they’re often forgotten the way a pregnant woman can’t recall the pain of labor. After all, if mama did, she’d shoot the father, punch her OB, and strangle the infant with its umbilical cord. Instead, she’s moved forward, hugging the father, cradling her newborn, and wondering when her vagina will stop looking like the mouth of a camel.
Anyway, let’s have another joke—this one highly appropriate for our fraught and frightful times. When God was creating the world, he called his builders—the angels—together and told them His plan for a Jewish homeland called Israel. “It will be a magical place,” God said, “beautiful, with hills, gardens, and so many natural wonders. And the Jews will be smart and resourceful. They’ll build great cities and farms, make fantastic art, excel in science and engineering. Truly, Israel will be a beacon to all nations.”
“Sounds amazing, God,” said the angels. “But won’t the rest of the world see all this perfect stuff and be jealous of the Jews?”
“Nope,” the Lord replied. “Wait till they see who they have as neighbors.”
Of course, this joke has an especially jagged edge these days—even though, technically, Israel was attacked not by neighbors but by its own squatters: Muslims we were nice enough to give land to—inside the Jewish state—rather than forcing them to move to Africa or Arabia or, God forbid, Amityville. And the upshot is that for 75 years, while trying just to survive in our minuscule homeland, we have been confronted with non-stop terrorism and war. And now, the Arabs’ misinformation campaign has been swallowed up by the kinds of teary-eyed liberals who think shoplifting is the store’s fault, turnstile jumping is a human right, and blocking traffic is an act of courage rather than anarchy.
But I’m sorry — it’s Purim. I meant to keep things light. So here’s one more joke: It’s late night and a policeman sees a car speeding down the highway. He pulls the car over and is surprised to see the driver: a rumpled, middle-aged Jewish man.
The officer runs his information and says, “Mr. Schwartz, we both know you were speeding. But it’s 2AM. Where were you racing?”
“To a lecture,” says the driver.
“A lecture?,” says the cop. “Who gives a lecture at this hour?”
“My wife.”
This isn’t technically a Jewish joke; it could work for anybody. But the joke tastes Jewish because it teaches us that you always answer for your deeds. If it isn’t to a policeman’s blotter or a judge, it’s to your spouse, or your boss, or your children, or maybe just that reflection in the mirror. So whenever possible, we try to be our better selves. Rather than dread the consequences of our actions, we want to anticipate the delight our efforts will bring to others. Needless to say, this is an ideal, and as flawed human beings we’re more likely to do the right thing for the wrong reason, or the wrong thing for any reasons, than be perfect people. But on Purim, when right and wrong are intentionally confuzzled, we can simply enjoy the mishegoss inherent in being human and Jewish.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York. (spins grogger) Roger Waters. Jonathan Glazer. Susan Fucking Sarandon!
(c)2024 TotalTheater. All rights reserved.
—> https://tinyurl.com/ne26enfs
On Saturday April 23, 2022, instead of doing his regular show, Dave Lefkowitz took a vacation but still went on for a few minutes to greet regular viewers.
For more information about Dave’s Gone By, including our extensive archives, visit davesgoneby.com.
OLD GILBERT
(©2022 David Lefkowitz. This audio skit was first broadcast on the April 16, 2022 episode of Dave’s Gone By)
DAVE: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re very proud here at the Dave’s Gone By show to introduce a special guest – one of the absolute legends of comedy. He’s played every possible stand-up venue as well as appearing on television and in the films, The Aristocrats, and, of course, Aladdin. He’s a bit older now but we’re honored to have with us in the studio, Gilbert Gottfried. Gilbert?
GILBERT: Thank you, Dave.
DAVE: Gilbert, can you tell us about that moment at the Hugh Hefner roast when you made the 9/11 joke, realized you were in trouble, and just pivoted to the most offensive joke in the world?
GILBERT: Thank you, Dave. You know, I’ve spent many years doing comedy. And you have moments that are good and moments that are not so good.
DAVE: Uh huh.
GILBERT: So I was doing the Hugh Hefner Roast for the Friars Club.
DAVE: Yes.
GILBERT: Now, Hugh Hefner — I don’t know if you know this, but Hugh Hefner used to publish a magazine called “Playboy.” And there’d be girls in there with no clothes on. And he got famous from this, from making a magazine with nude women in the pages.
DAVE: Yes.
GILBERT: Marilyn Monroe was in there. A lot of women.
DAVE: But you were mentioning the roast?
GILBERT: Yes. Now, back in my day a “roast” was what you did to a chicken or a side of beef. And it was very tasty, and you could have it Kosher or not.
DAVE: Uh huh.
GILBERT: But for a comedian, a roast is when other comedians come up and make fun of you. They tell jokes and the jokes are all about mockery of the person being joked about.
DAVE: Right.
GILBERT: So they’re telling jokes about Hugh Hefner. Who made this magazine, Playboy.
DAVE: Right. With the naked women.
GILBERT: You know it?
DAVE: Yes, you just — But the whole Aristocrats thing.
GILBERT: Yes, I’m telling jokes to Hugh Hefner. And no one’s laughing. Which I’m used to.
DAVE: Ha!
GILBERT: So I thought, uh oh… let me tell the dirtiest joke in the world. (pause) And that was it.
DAVE: Right, wow, yes. Um, so I’m sure a lot of our listeners would love to know how you got your most famous role in the Disney film, Aladdin.
GILBERT: Ah, Aladdin. So my agent gets a call from Walt Disney. Not actually Walt Disney, he’s been dead a long time and frozen somewhere.
DAVE: (laughs) Right.
GILBERT: But Walt Disney made a studio. And this studio made movies like The Little Mermaid, and The Jungle Book, and Song of the South.
DAVE: Yeah, they don’t really mention that one.
GILBERT: What one?
DAVE: Song of the — doesn’t matter. What about Aladdin?
GILBERT: So they say to my agent, “Hello. We’re making this new movie called Aladdin, and we think Gilbert Gottfried should play the parrot character.
DAVE: Uh huh.
GILBERT: Now, there’s an irony here. Because animals don’t talk in real life. But they do in some Disney pictures.
DAVE: Yah..
GILBERT: But parrots can talk in the real world. They can say dozens of words and even imitate a person singing.
DAVE: Right.
GILBERT: So in this movie for Disney, unlike others of their movies where animals talk but not in real life, I would be playing a parrot that talks in the movie just like a parrot might talk in a pet store. I thought that was very interesting.
DAVE: Right. So…in doing the voice for Aladdin, did you just use your regular comedy voice or did you tweak it to be more cartoon-like? Or did they process your voice in post-production — make it higher or cuter or something like that?
GILBERT: (pause) What was the question?
DAVE: How did you come up with the voice for Iago?
GILBERT: Well, of course, I wasn’t on the screen.
DAVE: Right.
GILBERT: You heard the actors, but we recorded all the voices.
DAVE: Sure, Robin Williams.
GILBERT: Yes, he was in that.
DAVE: In Aladdin, yes. Do you have any memories…?
GILBERT: Very funny man.
DAVE: Of course. Please, tell us about Robin Williams.
GILBERT: Well, we weren’t on screen together because we recorded the voices in a control room. But we would kid around.
DAVE: Yeah? Yeah?
GILBERT: This wouldn’t go in the movie, this was just the two of us making jokes.
DAVE: For sure! Like…?
GILBERT: You know, the movie already had a script. Robin Williams would improvise some jokes that they would add, but we also made jokes that weren’t for the movie at all. Because we’re comedians.
DAVE: Yes.So when you first saw Aladdin, the finished movie, did you sense it would be a smash?
GILBERT: You never know.
DAVE: Ah.
GILBERT: You hope, but you never know. When my agent called and said, “Listen, Gilbert, Walt Disney wants you to play the parrot in their new movie, called Aladdin. And it’s got Robin Williams in it, and it’s just after Beauty and the Beast, and you would be co-starring in a Walt Disney animated film?”
DAVE: Yeah…
GILBERT: Now, back in my day, animation was a cartoon that you might see on Saturday morning or maybe prime time like The Flintstones or The Jetsons.
DAVE: Right, on a whole other level.
GILBERT: But it’s still the same idea. The animator makes a drawing. And then he makes another drawing that’s almost the same as the first drawing but just a little different. And then you put the drawings next to each other, and it looks like they’re moving. Then you put a whole bunch of these drawings together and you flip them very quickly. And that’s Aladdin.
DAVE: We’ve been chatting with Gilbert Gottfried here on Dave’s Gone By. We’ll be back after this.
GILBERT: Aflac!
DAVE: Save it.
END OF SKIT
RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTION #175 (3/17/2022): St. Patrick’s Day
(©2022 David Lefkowitz. Aired March 19, 2022 on Dave’s Gone By.)
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for St. Patrick’s Day, 2022.
As the saying goes, everyone’s Irish on St. Patrick’s Day! Italians, Hispanics, African-Americans are Irish. Well, Black Irish. Jews, too, identify with our Celtic brethren, because we suffered oppression, we love literature, and just as the Irish swallow their ale, Jews wallow in our ailments.
I can think of no better way to celebrate Irishness than sharing poetry by James Joyce, who is, notwithstanding Agatha Christie and George R.R. Martin, the most important writer to have two first names. Here’s a little verse from 1904 called “Silently She’s Combing.”
Silently she’s combing, combing her long hair
Silently and graciously with many a pretty air.
The sun is in the willow leaves and on the dappled grass
and still she’s combing her long hair that goes down past her ass.
No, I’m kidding — it’s “before the looking glass.”
I pray you, cease to comb out, comb out your long hair.
All you’re doing is getting lice everywhere.
No, kidding again. I’ll spare you the rest of the poem; it’s just a guy worried that his girl is a skank.
Let’s try another verse, this one with a Jewish cadence: “All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters.”
All day I hear the noise of waters
making moan.
Sad as the seabird is when, going forth alone
He hears the winds cry to the water’s monotone.
The grey winds, the cold winds —
See? This is why Jews move to Florida.
I hear the noise of many waters far below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing to and fro.
Basically, the guy needs a space heater and some Prozac. But James Joyce is clearly using nature to reflect the psychology of his characters. Much as Yiddish-Irish poet Shmuel O’Malleystein did when he wrote, “Toilet’s backed up again. Ruining the floors. Guess we go back to pooping outdoors.”
Let me close my scholarly examination of James Joyce with this passage from Finnegan’s Wake, which I think is the key to his work, if not all literature:
The spoil of hesitants. The spell of hesitency. His atake — is it ashe, tittery-taw tattery-tail, Hasitense hump-on-a-dimply, heyhey-heyhey a winceywencky.
I couldn’t have put it better myself.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York. Slainte’ (slant-cha) and L’Chaim!
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