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Dave’s Gone By Skit (6/29/2003): HAPPY AND

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Gay activist Peter Fitzgerald on Gay Pride Day

Segment originally aired June 29, 2003, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.

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Dave’s Gone By Skit: RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S APOCRYPHA #3 (4/13/2003): PESACH

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RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S APOCRYPHA #3: Pesach

Shalom oovrachah, everyone! Happy Passover, dammit! A most joyous and happy Pesach to you and yours. I’m Rabbi Sol Solomon of Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York. And I’m happy to be your Passover guide on this segment of Dave’s Gone By.

Last time I was here, we were celebrating Purim, wherein the Jews were saved from extinction by a hot chick and her uncle. This time, the Yehudim were saved from a fate almost worse than death—eternal slavery—by a stuttering little fella named Moses, his faithful brother Aaron, and a little bit of help from You Know Who.

I think we all know the story. After Joseph (the guy with the schmatteh of many colors) did so much good for Egypt, he settled there. And his brothers settled there. And they told two friends, and so on, and so on, and so on—until the Jews made up a significant portion of the population. The new Pharaoh was a bissel nervous about this. But rather than exile everybody, he figured, “Hey, slave labor! There’s no union, no Workman’s Circle — let’s make them slaves!”

So, the Jews were put to hard labor building the pyramids, and the roads, and doing touch-up work on the sinks. But they were cruelly treated: working from morning till night, not enough food, long lines at the bathroom — yet they still found a way to keep multiplying and making more Jews. So, Pharaoh demanded that all male Jewish children be cast into the river—splash. One of those kids was a little baby whose mama gave him a chance. She put him in a tiny waterproof basket and pushed him into the bulrushes. Why the bulls didn’t rush out and trample him, we’ll never know. Instead, he was found by Pharaoh’s daughter while she was bathing in the stream.

She named him “Moishe,” or Moses, `cause he moseyed down the stream into her arms. The Queen saved him and raised him as her own. And he became an upstanding member of Egyptian society. He saw a task-master brutally whipping a Hebrew slave with a cat o’ nine tails. Moishe was outraged at this use of a deformed pet to hurt someone. So he slew the Egyptian. Then he ran away.

While he was gone, he went wandering and came upon a burning Bush. He told Bush to go invade Iraq, he’d feel better. But then he came upon a second burning bush—burning, but it wouldn’t be consumed. For that bush was God who told Moses to tell Pharaoh to tell the children of Israel they could leave. Moses, who had a bit of a lisp, took his brother Aaron along for support. Ironically, Aaron had also seen a burning bush that morning and tried to consume it, but his wife said, “No, you go with your brother. I’ll just use my toy.”

The two siblings arrived at Pharaoh’s palace and were greeted with hatred and derision, which Moses promptly reported back to God. HaShem said, “This guy doesn’t know what he’s fooling with. I’m gonna give you some magic tricks. Go, do the Copperfield thing. Tell me how it comes out.”

So, Moishe went back to Pharaoh and changed his stick into a serpent (that’s not a metaphor) and some other cool things, but Pharaoh had a guy who could sit buried in an ice block for days and another conjuror who could hang from his nipples indefinitely, so he wasn’t impressed.

“That’s it,” said God. “I gave Pharaoh a chance. Now I’m gonna give him ten chances, each one uglier than the last, and he won’t budge for any of them until the last one.”

Moses said, “You know, God, you could have saved me a bunch of trips back and forth if you just did the last one first.”

But God said, “Don’t be a smarty-tunic, Moses, or you won’t see the promised land.”

So, Moishe and Aaron went back to Pharaoh—back and forth to Pharaoh!—visiting ten horrible plagues upon him. We remember those plagues at the Seder, spilling drops of Manischewitz out of our glasses at the misery each affliction must have caused the Egyptian people.

The first couple were manageable. Blood. Frogs (that was probably kind of cute. Little froggies everywhere like the shower in the movie Magnolia). Then lice, flies—weird that He does lice first before flies, since lice sounds a lot worse than flies. Unless you’re Chinese, in which case you’re used to flied lice. But seriously, the plagues sound hideous, even though they sound a little odd to modern-day ears. Like that cattle disease: murrain. Or why the swarm of locusts came after all the hailstorms. I mean, after hailstorms, what would be left to eat?

So, to make the concept of the Ten Plagues more immediate, more tangible to the modern listener, I’ve come up with a different list of pestilences, a new “top ten,” as it were. It’s not meant to replace the originals—chas v’chalil! [heaven forbid]. It’s just a way to get you to imagine how relentless, how blechy, how terrifying this must have been. So, these are Rabbi Sol’s Ten Scourges!

Number one: Roaches. Icky little disease-carrying bugs. They cause emphysema, they may be responsible for this new SARS virus, you kill one and there’s three more to take their place… I know my wife. If she were Pharaoh, and that were the first plague, forget it! The Jews would be out of Egypt so fast, the matzoh would still be dough!

Scourge number two: Paper Cuts. Imagine falling naked into a pile of scattered sheets of 20lb. bond paper, and each time you move, you cut yourself. And then, every five minutes, HaShem pours grapefruit juice on you. Not very nice, hah? HAH?

Plague three: Those little rectangular advertising cards they put in magazines. Every time you open a book, a newspaper, a diary, there’s one of those on every page. Even if you shake them all out into a garbage can before you read, it doesn’t help. Because every other page has those perfume sniff things in it. Every book in your house will stink like the fragrance counter at Macy’s. And the only thing worse than that is the stench of your own vomit because you’re so nauseous you can’t stand it anymore.

Scourge number four: Home Shopping Network. Every single channel on your television dial (I know, we’re almost there already). Not one item under $200, and Joan Rivers on every third program…naked. The only way she’ll put her clothes back on is if everybody buys her grotesque jewelry, so everybody does.

Plague five: Intestinal gas. Not just the smell but the cramping, the bloating. Every single person on the Long Island Rail Road. Every co-worker on the elevator letting off enough gas to put KeySpan out of business. Then everybody starves and freezes to death because no one dares light a match.

Roaches, cuts, inserts, Joan Rivers, and gas — sounds grisly, hah? But those are just the first five, with five more to go! This is the kind of revenge HaShem deals out when He’s mad.

Number six: Freezer burn. All your meat, all your ice cream, all your TV dinners—they all taste like someone basted them with nitrogen. And that’d before your wife cooks them and makes them taste like she burned them with nitroglycerin.

Plague seven: Militant Arabs. Oh, sure. We slew a few in Iraq, and the Israelis are getting tough on Hamas. But imagine walking down the street, and everywhere you look is a kid throwing a rock, a woman wearing a burqa shooting at you, a man with a grenade in his knapsack—and you don’t even live in West Hempstead.

Plague number eight: Prostate cancer. What Jew can’t relate to prostate cancer? Well, maybe the women, but other than that? Imagine your little sack with shrinking matzoh balls and a gland that’s already halfway to the graveyard. And your proctologist is a former professional wrestler with big, meaty hands. He wears welding gloves because his other ones keep getting torn up by his long, dirty fingernails.

The ninth plague: Oh, this is a bad one: never-ending dental work. Every other week for years, that little sucky thing in your mouth going “pffthhhfffhhhh.” And the novocaine. And the picking at the gum line. And every time he finds another cavity, it’s under the filling. I don’t care how much God hardened Pharaoh’s heart, if He gave the Egyptians never-ending dental work, the Jews would have been shipped across the Red Sea and given free chariot service into Canada if they wanted, just to make it stop.

And now, finally, the tenth scourge, the deal breaker. The one to make every father, mother, brother, and sister weep without end: everywhere you go—inside, outside, the kitchen, the bathroom, the courtroom, the park, the subway, underwater, on a mountain—everywhere you go: inspirational music by John Tesh.

I know, I know. What merciful God would visit that even on a hated enemy? But these are plagues, people, not annoyances. HaShem didn’t go, “Hmm, I think I’ll bother Pharaoh with ten nuisances.” No, he gave the ruler and his people ten plagues—including death of the first born—and the Jews were finally allowed to leave Egypt.

They had more adventures to come, but I’m running short on time, so I thought I’d share a little bit of a happier aspect of the holiday. At the seder, where we eat and drink and retell the story of Pesach (much as I have done now), we also sing songs. Hymns of praise, questioning, and delight. One of the tunes that comes early in the proceedings is called “Dayenu.” It means “enough,” as in, HaShem has done so many miracles for us, but even if he’d done only a couple, one or two, it would have been enough for undying gratitude. Normally, we sing “Dayenu” in Hebrew with some Aramaic in it, but I’ve prepared some special English lyrics. So feel free to sing along or clap your hands or pick your nose—whatever you wanna do, but get into the spirit. This is “Dayenu.”

(sings) “Ohhhh,
Even if he had been sleeping
While six million Jews were slaughtered
Even though he watched us tortured
Dayenu.
(Dayenu) Day Dayenu, Day Dayenu, Day Dayenu, Dayenu Dayenu.

Even if the Muslim putzes
weren’t blowing up our buses
Yadda yadda, Intifada
Dayenu.
We’re all crazy . . . about you.
Couldn’t live without you.
Who needs happiness?

Even if there was no Hitler
Even if there was no Haman
Why so many snippy gay men?
Dayenu.
We are chosen
So we’re coping
We’re just hoping
You’ll choose someone else.

Even if we have big noses
Even if we’re prone to hair loss
Even if there was no Tay Sachs
Dayenu.
God is looking
God is watching
God is botching
Everything He does.

Even when the goyim tease us
Even when the gulags freeze us
It’s okay, we murdered Jesus
Dayenu.
(Dayenu) Day Day Dammit! Day Day Dammit! Day Day Dammit
Let’s sing it one more time, why don’t we?
Day Day Dammit! Day Day Dammit! Day Day Dammit
And circumcision hurts, oy!”

Were you singing along? Were you bouncing up and down to the spirit of the holiday? Good! Now go out and make this a wonderful Passover. Have a seder, or, if you’re not, find someone who is and go invite yourself. Kidnap a child so they can answer the four questions, read the Haggadah, greet Eliyahu, connect to the holiday and to your fellow man.

On behalf of myself, my dear wife, Miriam Libby, and our children, Nechemiah, Josiah, Shloime, Chanah, Rivki, Yehuda, Moishe, Yechezkiel, Boruch, Avigdor, Yisroel, Hepzibah, Shaul, Aliza, Shimon, Gedaliah, Naftuli, Benyamin, and Fred (by my first marriage), plus one on the way (Baruch HaShem!), this is Rabbi Sol Solomon saying chag sameach [happy holiday] and shalom oovrachah, from every one of me to every one of you.

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Dave’s Gone By Skit (3/30/2003): LUTHER ZIZLAND

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The thoughts of a U.S. Army private sent overseas to where they don’t like us.

Segment originally aired March 30, 2003, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.

More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com

Dave’s Gone By Skit (3/16/2003): THE STORY OF SEAMUS (The Urine Man)

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ZZSkit-SeamusStory

On a trip to Ireland, Dave and his wife encounter a legend who inspires Dave’s song, “Seamus, the Urine Man.”

Segment originally aired March 16, 2003, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.

All content (c)2003 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com

Dave’s Gone By Skit (3/16/2003): RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S APOCRYPHA #2 – Purim

Rabbi Sol Solomon’s Apocrypha #2: PURIM

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This skit, an early version of what would become Rabbi Sol Solomon’s Rabbinical Reflections, first aired March 16, 2003 on the 24th episode of the Dave’s Gone By radio program.

Shalom, Shalom oovrachah, everyone, and chag sameach [happy holiday]. Happy Purim to all of you!

Oy, it was such a long, miserable, goyische winter; it’s time we had a little happiness in our lives. A bit of craziness! Drinking and eating of sweets and turning the whole world a little tohu vavohu—topsy turvy—to celebrate our continued survival on the planet.

I’m Rabbi Sol Solomon on Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York, and I wanna thank Dave Lefkowitz, the host of Dave’s Gone By, for having me back on the show.

Last time, I was here in December for another happy holiday, Chanukah, which too many secular Jews mistake for being just a Yiddish version of Christmas. Well, now all I hear is people calling Purim a Hebraic adaptation of Halloween. Ptooey! Wrong and wrong again! Purim is its own happy holiday; it doesn’t need John Carpenter for validation.

The story of Purim in a nutshell is this: the King of Persia got angry at his first wife, so he killed her. Single again, he went looking around for a shiskeh goddess to be wife number two. Just like in Cinderella, he found her—only, she wasn’t what he thought she was. Her name was Esther, and she was being raised by her uncle, Mordecai. Morty told her, “Look, when you meet the king, be on the safe side: don’t tell him you’re Jewish.”

“Nu, vu den?” [what then?] said Esther. “My name’s Esther, and yours is Mordecai. It’s not like we can pass for Irish.”

“I dunno. Say you’re Presbyterian. And for God’s sake, don’t show him your Lord & Taylor gift certificate!”

So, Esther played it cool, and soon enough she was queen of the land. And Uncle Mordecai visited Esther often. And he kept reminding her: “Remember, if you get your nails done more than three times a week, he’s gonna suspect.”

Mordecai even foiled an assassination attempt on the King by two of his servants. Morty warned Esther, Esther warned her husband, and the plotters were hanged. So Mordecai and Esther were doing fine…except: Esther was not the King’s chief advisor. That position went to a fellow in the Amalak tribe, a man by the name of Haman (spins grogger). Yes, Haman (spins grogger). Haman was a motherf — (spins grogger). A wicked man. A vain man. As the King’s Henry Kissinger, he expected everyone to bow down to him, including Esther’s Uncle Mordecai. But Morty said, “Sorry, I will not bow to you. I bow only before God and my proctologist. And at least God trims His fingernails.”

This got Haman (spins grogger) so mad, he craved revenge not only on Mordecai—who I guess he didn’t realize was Esther’s uncle—but all the Jews in the kingdom. So he drew lots. In fact, he drew lots and lots of lots to determine which day all of the Jews in Persia should be annihilated. And by the way, the word “Purim” means “lots” in old Persian.

Anyway, it turns out that astrologically, the 14th of Adar was the most salubrious day. He actually looked in the horoscope in the Persian Post. It said, “You will make many short-term enemies. Don’t mind them! It’s a great day for a holocaust. However, your love life is still dormant and will remain so for some time. Don’t wear purple.”

Haman (spins grogger) then went to the King and told him all these terrible lies about the Jews: “Oy, they own the media! Oh, they have undue influence calling for a war with Mesopotamia! Oh, they’re ruining Michael Jackson’s career!” All these horrible slanders which the King believed. His Highness, never one to turn down the opportunity for some bloodletting, went along with his advisor’s plan for genocide.

Mordecai heard this and went meshuggah, crying and screaming and tearing his clothes and warning that all the Jews were gonna die. Esther got wind of it and told him, “Calm down. Tell everybody to fast for three days. Pray for me. Pray for all of us.”

She was nervous because a queen isn’t allowed to summon a king. It’s an offense punishable by—you got it—wifeicide. But after the fast, Esther goes to the King and invites him to a big banquet. Typical man, he hears the word “food,” and he’s thrilled to be alive. So they have the feast, and the King notices Mordecai there. So does Haman (spins grogger). The King is then reminded that Mordecai once saved his tuchas. So before evil Haman (spins grogger) can ask the King to kill Mordecai, the King tells him to dress Mordecai like a royal hero and lead him through the streets in a parade. Gritting his teeth, Haman (spins grogger) does what he’s told.

The next night, another banquet, and this time, Esther says the magic words, “Guess who married a Jew? You! And guess what else. There’s a guy in your employ who wants to murder me and all my tribe.”

“Who?” says the KIng. “That Chief of Homeland Security?”

“No,” replied Esther. “Your closest advisor. You know his name. It starts with an `h.’ It’s not Hubert. It’s…HAMAN!” (spins grogger)

Well, that did it for the Haymaster; he was hung on the same gallows he had built for Mordecai. And all ten sons of Haman (spins grogger) were hung. A couple were well-hung, but that’s something different. Mordecai was made prime minister and given a directive that the Jews could defend themselves against anyone who tried to vanquish them.

It all happened on the 14th day of the month of Adar—Purim day. A day the Jews could have been butchered but instead were spared and celebrated. So Mordecai declared it an annual feast day, which over the years has come to include lots of drinking and wearing costumes and masks.

Mordecai also started the custom of giving money to the poor and giving gifts of food and candy, called “shalach manos,” to our neighbors. That’s why it’s different from Halloween; the kids go door to door giving people treats rather than taking. No wonder they grow up cranky.

But seriously, in the synagogue we read the story of Esther, called “The Megillah,” first word to last. We dance around, and, as you’ve heard, make a tremendous amount of noise when we hear the name of that megillah gorilla…Haman! (spins grogger) It’s to blot out his name, to erase him from our thoughts and from our history. Esther and Mordecai, however, are among the most beloved figures in Jewish lore, which leads me to this limerick:

There once was a hero named Mordecai
An upstanding mensch, and a sporty guy
His clever instruction
saved Jews from destruction
and gave them permission to fortify!

And now, get your singing caps on! Time for a little music. A tune I came up with, if you want to sing along. I love the title: “Don’t Mess with Us.”

“If you try to kill the Jews

here’s a little piece of news

God will stop you and he’ll drop you dead instead.

He got Hitler, He got Haman

and a dozen I’m not namin’

So don’t mess with the Jews `cause you’ll lose.

If your aim is genocide

then you better run and hide

`cause HaShem will turn the tide until you drown

Every exile and pogrom

we’ve emerged triumphant from

`cause the Lord is our sword and our drum.

So if you’re a neo-Nazi

and you think you’re hotsy-totsy

or you’re blowing up civilians on a bus

You had best leave us alone

or we’ll hora on your bones

You’ll be stuck, Chuck, so don’t muck with us.

So listen here, you goyim,

every girl and every boyim

anti-Semitism brings you only tears

`cause HaShem is in our corner

He will make your mom a mourner

For the sake of your kids

be a friend to the Yids

Treat us nice, treat us well

or you’ll barbecue in hell

It’s been like this for 5,000 years.

Yagadagadagadee badabaaay

buh buh buh buh bum

Yoyboybaybay daybaybayba

yubuhbuhbuh bum. Hoi!”

So, yes, on this holiday I’m here to spread some joy, to celebrate this merry holiday with music and humor and my basic undercurrent of rage. No, I’m kidding. You can’t get upset on Purim; it’s a wonderful day! And it’s a bigger deal in Eretz Yisroel than it is here. Everyone gets into the spirit. A nice boychick who was in Israel last Purim wrote on his website, “It’s a nationally celebrated party, and everyone is invited! Indeed, it is not uncommon to see rabbits, angels, and Harry Potters sitting at the bus stop or wandering around the supermarket. Nor is it unusual to pass by wizards, policemen, or monsters in the street without a second thought. At one carnival extravaganza, there were flamethrowers, singers and dancers, and I’m sure there were also the ultimate Jewish lifeline, jokes:

The year is 2015 and the situation is grim. The earth’s ozone layer has eroded to where the ice caps are melting and the entire world is about to flood. All the major religions call enclaves on how to lead the people through the crisis. The Pope issues a statement that Catholics should write out a long confession and beg Jesus for salvation. The Protestant church urges its follows to eat only vegetables and cleanse themselves for the final judgment. The Muslim clerics order their people to fast all day and pray from morning to night. The head rabbis argue for an hour. And then they immediately start giving lessons on how to live underwater.

That’s what it’s all about for us: survival. Belief, but pragmatism. Prayer and practicality.

I want to wish you all a Purim sameach [happy].A glorious springtime. May we all have peace—or at least a great piece of hamentaschen. This is Rabbi Sol Solomon saying shalom oovrachah from every one of me to every one of you.