Hucklebug, Episode 141: Shout-outs, movies (Stennie: Life of Brian, Man on Wire, Bet: none!), lowlights & highlights, fuck-offs & you-rules, CD Mix 9 Alternate tracks discussion, tracks 1 – 5.
Music: “The Hucklebuck,” performed by (respectively): Lee Rocker, Gerard De Vries, Frank Sinatra. Also: “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” Eric Idle and “Band of Gold,” Freda Payne
Crucifixion’s a dawdle…
Hello my friends…first let me say that your shout out brought me to tears…you are both so sweet, but Stennie, you rule…well, your shower rules…
I’m having a little PKSD (Post Kazoo Stress disorder) so my alternate tracks are on my blog. I am so looking forward to the “free for all” at the end of CD#10 The Final Answer….
Stennie, you asked about the four questions. They are traditionally asked by the youngest person at the Seder. If you can count, you can see in truth, there are five questions. But I think they added one to make the pre-dinner wait just a bit longer.
Ma nishtana ha lyla ha zeh mikkol hallaylot?
Why is this night different from all other nights?
Shebb’khol hallelot en anu matbillin afillu pa‘am eḥat, vehallayla hazze sh’tei fe‘amim.
Why is it that on all other nights we do not dip [our food] even once, but on this night we dip them twice?
Shebb’khol hallelot anu okh’lin ḥamets umatsa, vehallayla hazze kullo matsa.
Why is it that on all other nights during the year we eat either leavened bread or matza, but on this night we eat only matza?
Shebb’khol hallelot anu okh’lin sh’ar y’rakot, vehallayla hazze maror.
Why is it that on all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables, but on this night we eat bitter herbs?
Shebb’khol hallelot anu okh’lin ben yosh’vin uven m’subbin, vehallayla hazze kullanu m’subbin.
Why is it that on all other nights we dine either sitting upright or reclining, but on this night we all recline?
And there is your lesson for the week.
When you were showing me the HBHQ, I mentioned that I’d love to see the vocal pattern of Bet’s laugh on a t-shirt. After thinking about it, I was thinking the following sound patterns would be cool on a shirt…
I am Stennie I am Bet
Welcome to the Hucklebug
Fuck offs and You rules
Fuck off George Bush (for posterity)
Low Lights and HighLights
I don’t like “I could care less” and I think I’ve mentioned my hatred of the phrase before. 😐
I don’t know—I think being assed something can be somewhat pleasant. (If done by the right person.)
Bet’s Peeps short was awesome! I also liked her hat short, too
Agree with y’all on Texas. We don’t want to mess with Texas, so they should just go.
Enjoyed listening to you two talk about the CD mix this time ‘round, probably because I did it this time
Even if I did it in a sorta fakey way.
This week’s show flew by, too. Felt much shorter than it was. Good job!!
Argh! Running out of time to ponder and comment, as it’s almost recording time. The pressure!
The one thing I do wonder is this—can we count all those really small four second items as songs? Most of them to me seem like bridges, and not songs. When I eliminated the ten second instrumentals and the random spoken word throwaway line, Her Majesty is still the shortest thing in my collection that behaves like a proper song.
“Shall I throw him to the floor again, sir?” “Oh yes, frow him to the fwor”
re: Emotional vampires
My mother is the emotional vampire in my life. Everything has to be about her. Everything in her life has to be one big drama. All co-workers are against her. Nothing ever goes right in her life. My grandparents liked my aunt better. They gave my aunt a white purse and they never gave my mother wrong even though they have photos to prove they gave both of their daughters a white purse! The government is trying to screw her because her refund check was not enough. My mom can be wonderful, but the wonderful bits are accompanied by the emotional vampire act. This came to head on Wed. when I had a minor fall.
I broke two ribs—extremely sore, but fine otherwise. I asked my mother to take a cab down to the hospital (for which I would reimburse her) so she could drive me home in my car. When she got to the hospital, she complained that the cab smelled. The man was not very talkative. He didn’t drive down fast enough. He didn’t drop her where she wanted to be dropped off. She hates this hospital. The parking is a nightmare. She went on and on and never once asked me what the doctor had said or how I was feeling. I finally said, “I have two broken ribs here. I’m in pain. This is my moment not yours. If you can’t accept that, I’ll pay for your cab ride home.” Not a word was spoken on the way home. She made sure I was fine and was very attentive. Later that night, she called me, and she said, “I’m sorry for being such a bad mother.” I knew what she was doing, and I was not going to take the bait. I was not going to say she was a great mother and let her off the hook. I said, “That’s okay. I’ll live.” For a day and a half, I’ve had a mother who calls to ask how I’m doing AND a mother who doesn’t turn into an emotional vampire. I know it won’t last, but it’s been so nice to have a drama free zone.
I don’t know if this helps, but I feel great about it. I so want to laugh, but I can’t. You just have to reach that point where you’re not going take anymore and I reached mine.
One thing that makes crucifixion a dawdle is that, unlike, say, law school exams, at least it gets you out in the open air.