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Here is the 629th episode of the long-running radio show/podcast, Dave’s Gone By, which aired on live UNC Radio and Facebook, Nov. 25, 2017. The interview and concert segments were pre-recorded and then played (audio only) on the live episode. For this archive video, the pre-recorded video footage has been inserted in that place.
Host: Dave Lefkowitz Guests: Little Fyodor and Babushka, Dave’s wife Joyce
Featuring: Rabbi Sol Solomon interviews musiciansLittle Fyodor and Babushka. Inside Broadway, Greeley Crimes & Old Times, Saturday Segue (In the News).
00:00:01 DAVE GOES IN w/ Joyce (outsider music, thanksgiving meals) 00:21:00 GREELEY CRIMES & OLD TIMES 00:55:00 INSIDE BROADWAY (news & review (01:13:30; The Portuguese Kid)) 01:23:00 GUESTS: Rabbi Sol Solomon interviews Little Fyodor and Babushka 02:29:00 BOB DYLAN – Sooner & Later (real thunder) 03:12:00 Friends 03:22:30 SATURDAY SEGUE – In the News 04:14:00 DAVE GOES OUT
Nov. 25, 2017 Playlist: “Tonight’s the Night” (01:22:00; Crazy for You 1992 Broadway cast). “You Give Me Hard-On” (01:23:00), “I Want an Ugly Girl” (01:54:00), “Small Talk” (01:55:30), “All My Clothes are Uncomfortable” (01:57:00), “Watching the Squirrels” (01:58:30), “Who Needs Me?” (02:02:30), “The Blackness” (02:04:30), “I Wanna Be the Buddha” (02:10:00), “This Diamond Ring” (02:12:00), “Get Out of My Head” (02:16:00), “Death Wish” (02:18:00), “Everything Ends” (02:20:30), “Trump Loves You” (02:21:00) & “Franksgiving” (03:02:00; Little Fyodor and Babushka). “Romance in Durango” {rolling thunder live version} (02:32:00), “Masters of War” {real live version} (02:37:00) & “Just Like a Woman” {rolling thunder live version} (02:44:00; Bob Dylan). “Little Pony” (03:24:30; Lambert, Hendricks & Ross). “Two Sleepy People” (03:27:00; Della Reese). “I Think I Love You” (03:31:00; The Partridge Family). “Shoplifters of the World Unite” (03:33:30; The Smiths). “I Got the Hoss” (03:36:30). “Crazy Egypt” (03:39:00; John Cale). “Eyes of a Dreamer” (03:43:00; Charles Manson). “Trampled Rose” (03:45:30; Carolina Chocolate Drops). “December’s Dream” (04:18:00; December’s Dream).
Sung by Rabbi Sol Solomon to the melody of Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy.”
Song aired Sept. 2, 2017, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
Please Note: Segments extracted from “Dave’s Gone By” may have music and other elements removed for timing and media re-posting considerations. For the full show with all elements, please visit the audio of the complete original broadcast. All content (c)2017 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
More information on Rabbi Sol Solomon: www.shalomdammit.com
I’M TOO SEXY (FOR MY PROSTATE)
(sung to the melody of “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred’s Fred Fairbrass, Richard Fairbrass, and Rob Manzoli)
Song scheduled to air Aug. 26, 2017, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
Please Note: Segments extracted from “Dave’s Gone By” may have music and other elements removed for timing and media re-posting considerations. For the full show with all elements, please visit the audio of the complete original broadcast.
All content (c)2017 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com DOWNLOAD VIDEO
JERREE
(Music & Lyrics: David Lefkowitz. To be sung in the voice of a spastic)
Dave’s Gone By Song (2017): RABBI SOL SOLOMON’S RABBINICAL REFLECTIONS THEME
A blessing to begin Rabbi Sol Solomon’s sermons
This segment first aired in 2017 on the “Dave’s Gone By” program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz. Full episodes also available on youtube, Facebook (davesgoneby), Spotify, and on DavesGoneBy.com.
All content (c)2017 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
This song first aired Nov. 24, 2012 on the “Dave’s Gone By” program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz. Full episodes also available on youtube, Facebook (davesgoneby), Spotify, and on DavesGoneBy.com.
All content (c)2012 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
SHAVING CREAM 2016
(Lyrics: David Lefkowitz. Music: Benjamin Samberg’s (aka Benny Bell’s) “Shaving Cream.”)
Dave sings his socio-political ditty, “Deep in the Heart of Dallas.”
Song originally aired July 9, 2016, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
Please Note: Segments extracted from “Dave’s Gone By” may have music and other elements removed for timing and media re-posting considerations. For the full show with all elements, please visit the audio of the complete original broadcast: Full Episode
All content (c)2016 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
DEEP IN THE HEART OF DALLAS
Oh the moon shone bright on a hot July night
Deep in the heart of Dallas
The crowd turned out to holler and shout
Deep in the heart of Dallas
They came in peace to protest police
Deep in the heart of Dallas
`Cause if you’re brown, you’ll get shot down
Pretty much anywhere, not just Dallas
Baton Rouge’s best shot a black in the chest
Deep in Louisiana
The gun was in his pocket, but the cops just said, “aw, fuck it!”
Deep in Louisiana
A few hours later in St. Paul, Minnesater
A guy and gal were drivin’
A zealous cop made them come to a stop
They thought that he was jivin’
The fuzz did shout, “Your taillight is out!
Let’s see your registration.”
He meant no harm, but he shot up the guy’s arm.
Which caused some consternation.
With two blacks dead all the people said,
“Out in the streets we’ll gather,
We’ll show the fuzz what a movement does:
Hashtag – Black Lives Matter.”
But one lone man had a bigger plan
Deep in the heart of Dallas
His name was Micah
And whites? He no like-ah
Deep in the heart of Dallas
Feelin’ low and mean with a full magazine
Deep in the heart of Dallas
He aimed real well, and the bodies fell
Deep in the heart of Dallas
A robot bomb blew his ass to kingdom come
Deep in the heart of Dallas
But not before he wounded seven more
Deep in the heart of Dallas
Now the cops hate blacks and the blacks hate them back
And nothing’s gonna stop it
And that is what we’re stuck with.
Each one thinks that the other one stinks
And boy, you better not fuck with.
The victims wail when the systems fail
Deep in the heart of America
It’s just another day in the good ol’ USA
Deep in the heart of America.
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Dave found this beautiful, spiritual hymn sung by presidential candidate Ben Carson. Or at least about him.
Segment originally aired Nov. 14, 2015, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
Please Note: Segments extracted from “Dave’s Gone By” may have music and other elements removed for timing and media re-posting considerations. For the full show with all elements, please visit the audio of the complete original broadcast: Full Episode
All content (c)2015 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
OH DAT BEN
When I be nine years old, I hit my momma with a hammer.
When I be ten years old, I bashed my brother with a brick.
When I be eleven years old, I went apeshit with a baseball bat.
Oh lawd, I remember.
Vote for me in November.
When I be twelve years old, I hit my momma with another hammer.
When I be thirteen years old, I stabbed a classmate in the hip.
When I be fourteen years old, somehow I got hold of yet another hammer.
Oh lawd, I remember.
Vote for me in November.
But now I’s a different man, and I gots no anger
I’s got a Yale degree, and I done surgery
So listen, America, from Maine to Alabama
Vote Ben Carson.
And hide yo’ motherfucking hammers.
In July 2014, legendary Australian TV personality Rolf Harris was sentenced to 69 months in prison for molesting numerous under-aged women over the course of two decades. Let’s hear his song, shall we?
Song aired July 19, 2004, as part of the “Dave’s Gone By” radio program hosted by Dave Lefkowitz.
Please Note: Segments extracted from “Dave’s Gone By” may have music and other elements removed for timing and media re-posting considerations. For the full show with all elements, please visit the audio of the complete original broadcast: Full Episode
All content (c)2014 TotalTheater Productions.
More information on Dave’s Gone By: http://www.davesgoneby.com
TAKE YOUR UNDEROOS DOWN (The Rolf Harris Song)
(spoken) There’s an old Australian TV host, resting in his jail cell, surrounded by perverts, murderers, and stockbrokers. So he gets himself up on one elbow, and he turns to his mates, who are examining his hidden stash of child pornography, and he sings to them:
Once I used to be great, mate,
Once I used to be great.
Now just look at my fate, mate,
All the girls are irate – `cause I told them:
Take your Underoos down, slut,
Take your Underoos down
Keep your little mouth shut, slut
Take your Underoos down
She’s a tender young queen, Jean,
She’s a tender young queen
She was only 14, Jean,
She’s a tender young queen
All together now!
Take your Underoos down, slut,
Take your Underoos down
Keep your little mouth shut, slut
Take your Underoos down
That girl put me in heaven, Kevin
That girl put me in heaven.
She was only seven, Kevin
That girl put me in heaven.
Everyone!
Untie your Underoos now, slut,
Untie your Underoos now
Don’t you dare start a row, cow,
Untie your Underoos now
That one made me so glum, chum,
That one made me so glum
Filled her bum with my cum, chum,
But she snitched to her mum!
Oh no, now!
Pull your Underoos down, slut,
Pull your Underoos down
Show Uncle Rolfie your butt, slut,
Take your Underoos down
(sad section)
Now, they call me the devil, Neville,
Now they call me the devil
They’ll put me in the gravel, Neville,
Just like they did to Saville
Everyone!
Take your Underoos down, slut,
Take your Underoos down
Finger the place that’s brown, don’t frown!
Take your Underoos down
Show me a little bit more, whore
Show me a little bit more
Are you sure you’re only four, whore?
Show Uncle Rolfie some more!
All together now!
Take your Underoos down, slut,
Take your Underoos down
Take your Underoos down, slut,
Take your Underoos down
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for the week of February 2nd, 2014.
This may come as a shock to some of you, but I am not a Belieber. Oh yes, I am a believer in God, in the Torah, in chicken soup when you’re sick – but I am not a Justin Bieber belieber. I don’t listen to his music, since I’m more of a Moishe Koussevitzky fan, and his exploits do not interest me.
If Justin Bieber gets a tattoo, or shtups a model, or posts a selfie from the hood of his Lambo, more power to him for living the high life. When I was 19 years old, I was in Yeshiva studying Talmud, I was suffering through clarinet lessons, I was in bed sleeping by 10pm…because I didn’t have a girlfriend.
If I had $20 million at that age, would I have done things differently? You’re damn right I would have! My God, I would have bought the Streits Matzoh factory and had chocolate-covered matzoh every day of the year. I’d have tricked out my Volvo with curtains and a practice bimah. I’d have bribed ushers for backstage passes to every Yaffa Yarkoni concert in the tri-State area. Would I have gotten tattoos? No, that’s a religious no-no. Plus, how would I really feel about a tramp stamp of Marvin Hamlisch when I’m 50?
But with that kind of money, sure, I might get a little meshiggeh. And having young girls clawing at me and screaming – and not screaming `rape!’ – of course that would go to my head, and I would sample the pleasures of the flesh and the fleshures of the plesh. I do not begrudge Justin Bieber any of these sybaritic activities that he has earned by making music that pushes teenage girls right past puberty into menopause.
However, this past week, little Justin crossed the line. He was arrested in Miami Beach for DUI, drag racing, driving without a license and mouthing off to cops. When he was yanked, bleary-eyed from his yellow Lamborghini, he said, “Why do you have to search me? What is this about?” And two seconds later he told the police, “Oh, by the way, I’m high, I’ve been drinking, and I’m on a couple of prescription medications.” Somewhere a prosecuting attorney is on his knees in shul saying, “Thank you, God. Sometimes you send them to us gift-wrapped.”
Now, much as I hate giving anyone who sings songs with titles like “Beauty and a Beat,” “Baby” and “Eenie Meenie” the benefit of the doubt, if Justin Bieber wasn’t impaired that night, then this is just another case of the media looking to crash the monster it created. Yes, Bieber was a putz for mouthing off at the cops. If he’d been poor and black, he’d still be searching for his teeth on the sidewalk. But if he wasn’t drunk or high and was just driving a little too fast, give the guy a ticket, get his autograph for your kids, and be done with it.
However, if Justin Bieber was driving under even a mild, chemically induced goofiness, then throw the book at him – not because he’s famous, but because he’s a danger to others. In one of my early Rabbinical Reflections, I took some heat for kicking Ryan Dunn’s corpse before it was even cold. Who was Ryan Dunn? He was one of the “Jackass” crew on TV – men who would do crazy, stupid, dangerous things to each other for poops and giggles. These were consenting friends under controlled circumstances; who am I to say, “what the hell is wrong with you?” Especially when they’re funny. But nobody was laughing when Ryan Dunn poured himself into his Porsche and zoomed into a tree. Not only he died, but the guy in the passenger seat died, too. As Roger Ebert tweeted at the time, “Friends don’t let jackasses drive drunk.”
I have no sympathy for Dunn, or Paul Walker, or Justin Bieber if he put himself in the same situation. When I’m tootling down the highway in my 1996 Ford Fiesta, I wanna know that every other person on the road is being as neurotically careful as I am. At 50 miles per hour, a car is just a gun with wheels; point it in the wrong direction, and you’ve committed suicide and/or murder and/or skyrocketing insurance premiums.
Figuratively speaking, many have said that Justin Bieber is on a crash course, speeding out of control towards a Lohanesque junk-heap. I wish him no harm so long as he does no harm to others. Remember, this is the boy who said that if Anne Frank were still alive, she would be a Belieber – meaning, in his obnoxious, self-absorbed way – that she’d be a typical teenage girl with posters on the wall, bubblegum music on her iPod, and, presumably, 200 stuffed animals on her bed. Of course, this is a ridiculous statement. First of all, if Anne Frank were truly alive today…she’d be kicking and pounding at the lid of her coffin. Also, she’d be 85 years old, which means her musical tastes would have settled somewhere between Glenn Miller and Chubby Checker. The only posters on her wall would be a reminder for her medications and a calendar from the nearest Jewish funeral home. As far as liking Justin Bieber’s music, for gosh sakes, this woman lost her mother and her sister in the Holocaust and coughed herself to death in a concentration camp at age 15. Didn’t she suffer enough?
People who hate Justin Bieber just for being Justin Bieber, are saying he should be deported. We should send him back to Canada. Why? So he can spend all his millions across the border and let Canadian strippers, casinos and car dealers reap the benefits? I say, give the teeny-botcher the benefit of a doubt; let him stay – unless they prove he was drunk or stoned in that car. If he was, handcuff him and put him in the first trolley heading to Quebec. Oh, and just for fun, make David Cassidy drive.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York.
Shalom Dammit! This is Rabbi Sol Solomon with a Rabbinical Reflection for the week of September 8th, 2013.
“Do you want fries with that? No problem, give me 15 dollars.”
That is the call of the disenfranchised franchise worker. The people employed at Burger King, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Arby’s, Shloimy’s, Moishy’s – all the fast-food restaurants. They are weary of working for $7.40 per hour, which, if you can believe it, is 15 cents above the Federal minimum wage. In other words, someone laboring at a fast-food joint, full time, all week long, makes $15,000 a year, before taxes, no benefits, no 401K, but presumably all the unserved McNuggets they can eat. And so, around the country, the flippers and the grillers and the moppers and the servers are now strikers.
Who works harder than chain-food employees? They sweep the floors, clean the fryers, shpritz the special sauce, and deal with irate customers who throw tantrums when you forget the pickles. Room for advancement, to move up the grease-mottled ladder of success? Sure, for an extra dollar an hour, you get to manage all the other hostile, hopeless kids stuck in the same nowhere job. Not only do you have the honor of hearing customers bitch about everything, your fellow employees hate you for being management. All this for a salary that buys you two caramel macchiatos at Starbucks, where at least they give their workers health benefits.
I don’t care if the boss flumps a girl in a chair, hands her a magazine and says, “Just take a message if the phone rings.” Even that is taking an hour of time out of her life and deserves more than seven measly bucks an hour. Or eight. Or – oh my goodness – New York State voted to bring it up to nine – by the end of 2015! Thank you politicians! Should we bend over and bite the pillow or just sink to our knees in supplication?
As someone who lives and works on Long Island, where property taxes on a small house are 10 grand a year, the very idea that humans are still paid less than $10 an hour to do ANYTHING absolutely staggers me. That some politicians and businessmen fight against increases in the basic minimum wage staggers me double! “Oh,” they say, “if I raise the minimum wage, I won’t be able to hire as many people.” You know who faced that same problem? Pharoah! And his solution worked for a few decades until his employees rose up and marched out. And they knew about fast food, too. They hadda leave so quick, they ditched the sesame-seed buns and made matzoh instead. If you can’t afford to pay people something that keeps them in shoes, you should probably give them the shop and go work in Burger King, cause at least it’s steady.
Some folks defend low wages because these are quote-unquote “entry-level” jobs. It’s just high school students earning mall money or old people who are bored sitting at home, so they go to KFC where the action is. Leaving aside the fact that since the recession, thousands of workers have swallowed their pride to take any job, including stuffing a substance that looks vaguely like meat into Taco Bell tortillas. Leaving aside that some people take a minimum-wage second job only because they can’t pay their bills from their insufficient first job. Let’s even say for argument’s sake that your typical fast-food drudge is 15 years old, living rent-free with his parents, and not financially responsible for anything but his deodorant and iTunes downloads. Suppose this fine young man wants to take his girlfriend to the movies on a Saturday night. That’s gas in the car, parking, two movie tickets, two giant sodas, one big popcorn (and a penknife to make a schmeckel-sized hole in the bottom of it), a condom and/or a packet of handiwipes. He is looking at sixty bucks just to feel a girl’s boobs, and she may not even have boobs yet.
It is my considered opinion that any business owner netting upwards of, say, $60,000 a year who doesn’t believe that his workers are worth more than minimum wage should be shot in the face. Just as a wakeup call.
Most fast-food restaurants are publicly traded companies, so we know how much the CEO takes home, the VPs, the Vice-VPs, the shareholders, and the fry cooks and janitors. In 2010, out of $24 billion in revenue, McDonald’s netted $4.9 billion in profit. Because of this, the CEO took home almost $9 million in salary. Sorry for throwing all these numbers at you, but catch this one: that salary is almost 600 times more than that of a full-time slave at minimum wage.
Now that the economy has improved from quicksand to mud, the rank-and-file worker wakes up to remember he has needs, he has dignity, he has rights. He knows he has to work for a living, but that’s the key word: a living. Living means paying the rent, feeding the kids, getting your teeth cleaned and your blood pressure checked, going to sleep without worrying how you’ll pay for school supplies, or heat, and maybe even taking a week and staying at a Howard Johnson’s in Pensacola, Florida. If that means Horace Vanderbastard the III can’t customize his mistress’ yacht, so be it.
Good luck, fast food fighters. March on Mickey D’s. Boycott Burger King. Choke the Kentucky Fried Chicken. No, wait, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean. This isn’t about socialism. It’s not about destroying the free-market economy; that’s what cable companies are for. No, this is about fairness, about reasonable compromise, about people feeling pride in what they do and value in what they get. Yes, I’ll certainly take fries with that.
This has been a Rabbinical Reflection from the woefully underpaid Rabbi Sol Solomon, Temple Sons of Bitches in Great Neck, New York.