Brookwrite

Columns - 2016

    Hazzan Pepper's Lonely Column Banned

    It was twenty years ago today
    Southern Shofar let this column play
    It's been going on without no style
    And no guarantee to raise a smile
    So, may I impose on to you
    The hack you've read for all these years...
    Hazzan Pepper's Lonely Column Banned!

    We're Hazzan Pepper's Lonely Column Banned
    We hope you will enjoy the prose
    Hazzan Pepper's Lonely Column Banned
    Sit back and let your good taste go.

    It's wonderful to write here,
    It's certainly no quill,
    You're such a lovely readership,
    We'd love to take you home with us,
    We'd take you both right home...

    I don't really want to stop the flow
    But the editor thought you should know
    The writer's gonna write more wrong
    And he wants you all to read along...

    *****

    What would you think if I write like a loon,
    Would you turn the page away from me?
    Lend me your eyes and I'll lead you along
    And I'll try not to strike the wrong key.

    I get by with a little help from Hashem
    I just write with a little help from Hashem
    You survive with a little help from Hashem.

    What do you do when my column's astray?
    (Does it worry you to read alone?)
    How do you feel when you put it away?
    (Are you glad 'cause so much was unknown?)
    No, I get by with a little help from Hashem
    I just write with a little help from Hashem
    You survive with a little help from Hashem.

    (Do you read anybody?)
    I read this column enough
    (Could it be anybody?)
    I want this column enough

    (Would you still read if I wrote it at night?)
    Yes I'm certain that I'd read it all the time
    (What do you read when you turn out the light?)
    I can't read then, 'cause I would go blind
    Oh, I get by with a little help from Hashem
    I just write with a little help from Hashem
    You survive with a little help from Hashem.

    *****

    Looking ahead to the end of the next twenty years...

    With my jokes older, greying your hair,
    Many years from now
    Will you need to rinse your eyes with Listerine
    Forget with a bottle of wine?
    If I get moved up onto page three
    Would you look for more?
    Will you still need me, will you still read me
    When I'm sixty-four?

    You'll be older too
    And if you read my words
    They will stay with you

    It has been handy, tending the muse
    When all light has gone
    You can read about it by the fireside
    Sunday mornings minyan at nine
    Back to the Garden, or Sea of Reeds
    All to re-explore
    Will you still need me, will you still read me
    When I'm sixty-four?

    Every column comes out of a journey to the Isle of Write
    When things get unclear
    Kosher shrimp's okay?
    With kings who number three
    Sol'mon, Saul, and Dave.

    I'll still be a card, in every line
    Skewing points of view
    Titillate with things that no one else would say
    Your last brain cells, wasting away
    Giving no answers, lacking in form
    Now or evermore
    Will you still need me, will you still read me
    When I'm sixty-four?

    *****

    In conclusion, A Day in Southern Jewish Life

    I wrote the news today, oy yoy;
    It was a funny man with modest grades
    And though the jokes were rather sad
    Well, you just had to laugh
    I wrote by telegraph

    He wrote his mind and went too far;
    He didn't notice that the times had changed
    A crowd of readers stopped and stared
    They'd seen his jokes before
    Nobody was really sure if he was from the House of Lord...

    I saw a film today, oy yoy;
    The day no army had to go to war
    A crowd of people turned astray
    But I just had to look
    Back to Habakkuk

    I'd love to learn you one..

    Woke up, under my bed
    Dragged a kippah on my head
    Fell my way downstairs and re-woke up
    And looking up, for minyan I was late

    Wrote a joke and that was that
    Then I thought if it fell flat
    Found my way using mirrors and smoke
    In case you might've thought it's not what it might seem

    I wrote the news today, oy yoy;
    Four thousand holes in this week's sermon here
    And though the holes were not so small
    They didn't count at all
    Still don't know how many holes it takes to fill the Western Wall

    I'd love to learn you one...

    Doug Brook is a writer in Silicon Valley who premiered this column in The Southern Shofar in September, 1996. He would like to say thank you on behalf of the banned, and hopes he passed the audition. To read these or any other past columns, visit http://brookwrite.com/. For exclusive online content, like facebook.com/the.beholders.eye.

    Copyright Doug Brook. All rights reserved.