All posts by DH

Why Do I Have This Thing for Jewish Men

Black and White

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

Chorus:
oy veh oy vey oy vey oy veh oy veh
why did I have to fall for another Jewish guy today
my heart’s like a bagel got a hole in the middle
been shafted again and again
oh why do I have this thing for Jewish men

’twas in college that I met my first one, Leonard Jay Mandel
he drew me like a magnet though why I could not tell
for me, a good French Catholic girl, I saw this could be tough
so I prayed that he’d convert but I guess I didn’t pray hard enough

’cause he dumped me right around the time I’d hoped to meet his folks
I was hurt—I didn’t understand till I heard his buddy joke
“Shiksas are only for practice”—well you’d think I’d have learned from that
but no then I had to go fall for the buddy—Myron Rosenblatt!

Chorus

well Myron left me for a blonde and oh how I did pine
at least till Joey Gold appeared, and later Sheldon Stein
when I’d bring them home maman would roll her French Canadian eyes
and then she’d serve tortiere for lunch—you know those minced pork pies?

well they’d leave quite quickly after that and then maman would say
“Mon dieu don’t you meet any Catholic boys? I think I will have to pray
a special novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus to help you!”
“Well that’s great,” I’d tell her, “but remember Ma, Jesus was Jewish too!”

Chorus

now why with our dominant WASPy culture, why do I have this thing?
Jewish men don’t tend to look like Robert Redford, they don’t look like Sting
but maybe that’s it—it’s my hot French blood that requires the exotic
or maybe it’s the heavy religious trip making them, like me neurotic
(Naah…!)
maybe I just like them ’cause they’re passionate and smart
Jewish men have chutzpah, they have chumour, they have cheart

so what’s the problem then you say
why do I lament today
I’m getting to that right away oy vey oy vey oy vey

(you see) Jewish men will floor you they will love you they’ll adore you
they’ll pursue you and they’ll woo you they will do such wild things to you
they’ll wine you and they’ll dine you and they’ll call it dough well spent
they will want you they will haunt you some might even share the rent
but when it’s time to tie the knot and end the dizzy whirl
you can bet your ass they’ll up and wed some good Jewish girl!
(well I know there are some that don’t but trust me to pick the ones that do…)

Chorus

Science Is Wonderful

Black and White

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

Chorus:
science is wonderful
science is grand
but there’s one thing about science
that i don’t understand
they can build a bomb to destroy the world
they can put a man on the moon
but they can’t find one safe and easy way
to keep sperm out of the womb

Mike and Ann were Catholic and they didn’t want any kids
but the church said they had to use rhythm so that is what they did
do you know there’s a name for people who practice rhythm faithfully?
yup—we call ’em parents—now Mike and Ann have a family of three

chorus

Jane and Lynn and Catherine put their faith in the IUD
wasn’t long before all of them were mothers to be
so Catherine got a diaphragm the next time round ’cause she didn’t know what else to do
now Jane and Lynn have one kid each—Catherine has two

chorus

if men could get pregnant, you know what we’d see
birth control research would be bigger than the defence industry
they’ve got a million medical marvels to delay your trip to the tomb
but they can’t find one safe and easy way to keep sperm out of the womb

now I grew up in the sixties and we all went on the pill
till we saw it was making us moody, fat, depressed and ill
the trouble is the fellows all got used to it, they thought it was the norm
now you show a safe* to a sixties man, the poor darling can’t perform!

chorus

* A 1960s term for condom

Mothers Teach Your Sons

Black and White

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

oh mothers teach your sons how to cook and how to clean
in the arts of housework educate them
or else your sons poor wives will curse you all their lives
as they labour to housebreak and domesticate them

pass on to them the ancient art of dusting
show them there’s no shame in scrubbing floors
and teach their poor dim eyes to see what we see without trying
spots on glass and fingerprints on doors

so mothers teach your sons how to cook and how to clean
in the arts of housework educate them
or else your sons poor wives will curse you all their lives
as they labour to housebreak and domesticate them

and give them Joy of Cooking for their birthdays
encourage them to make the meals for you
but don’t forget to teach them how to clean up as they’re going
so your kitchen doesn’t end looking like World War Two

oh mothers teach your sons how to cook and how to clean
in the arts of housework educate them
or else your sons poor wives will curse you all their lives
as they labour to housebreak and domesticate them

oh mop and broom and a dustpan
sure look good on a man

teach them when they clean to clean behind things
it’s a concept that they surely will resist
behind the couch, behind the fridge and, yes, behind the toilet —
these are places men don’t even know exist

so mothers teach your sons how to cook and how to clean
in the arts of housework educate them
or else your sons poor wives will curse you all their lives
as they labour to housebreak and domesticate them

oh mop and broom and a dustpan
sure look good on a man
I said mop and broom and a dustpan
sure look good on a man

Not Another Benefit

Black and White

Music: M.L Hammond & Marilyn Lerner   Lyrics M.L Hammond

friends I have a problem that I’d like to address
and it may be peculiarly mine
in these days of unemployment I am forced to confess
yours truly’s working overtime
my phone is ringing madly
they all want me oh so badly
there’s only one hitch I can see
oh no! it’s a benefit, not another benefit
and when are they gonna benefit me

I’ve played for day care, pro-choice, Greenpeace, world peace
labour causes, unfair laws and Latin American solidarity
I’ve stopped Spadina*, failed to stop the Cruise, I’ve saved
the whales and wolves
I’ve tried to save the NDP**
now ain’t it kinda funny
how we’re always raising money
for the things in life that ought to be free
oh no! it’s a benefit, not another benefit
and when are they gonna benefit me

the phone rings and a voice says “hi we haven’t met, in fact
I must admit I’ve never heard of you at all
but someone at a meeting said her sister said her lover said
we really ought to give you a call
our situation’s critical
she says you’re quite political
and feminist and always play for free…”
oh no! it’s a benefit, not another benefit
and when are they gonna benefit me

and when the bankers finally get me
’cause I haven’t paid my debts be
sure you’re ready to call up Nancy White for me
and she’ll say
oh no it’s a benefit, not another benefit
and when are they gonna benefit me (3)

* an expressway planned for downtown Toronto
** A left-of-centre Canadian political party

Christmas in Barbados

Impromptu

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

it’s a warm December evening
the moonlit ocean’s calm
and I can see Matthew’s laundry hanging
underneath the coconut palm

the whistling frogs are whistling
the sky’s a-glitter with stars
and the karaoke singers are picking out carols
in the south coast bars

Chorus:
’cause it’s Christmas in Barbados and for me that’s something new
but I don’t miss Christmas back home half as much as I’m missing you
yes it’s Christmas in Barbados and I’m feeling just a little bit blue
’cause I don’t miss Christmas back home half as much as I’m missing you

no I don’t miss the evergreens
I sure don’t miss the snow and the chill
and I don’t miss the crowds and the shopping
and my whopping Visa bill

and I don’t miss the church bells
I turned pagan so long ago
that the only thing I miss is the kissing
underneath the mistletoe

Chorus

and in a Bridgetown bar I heard a reggae band singing “Jingle Bells, jingle bells”
and I almost bought a wreath for my door made of wicker and seashells
and at the Hastings Mall they’ve got tinsel garlands and under a tropical sky
a cut-out of Santa and his reindeer flying by

’cause it’s Christmas in Barbados and for me that’s something new
but I don’t miss Christmas back home half as much as I’m missing you
yes it’s Christmas in Barbados and I don’t know what I’m gonna do
’cause I don’t miss Christmas back home half as much as I’m missing you

oh it’s a warm December evening
the moonlit ocean’s calm
and I can see Matthew’s laundry hanging
underneath the coconut palm

Country Music

Impromptu

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

well you can play that old-time music
you can sing those country songs
and all the children of the cities
they have learned to play along
from a downtown window
busy corner
skies are hidden
and there ain’t no trees
but you can hear that music playing
that sweet-tongued fiddle playing
and it floats through the dusty air
like a country breeze

well they leave the farms
and they leave the small towns
’cause they heard that the cities pay
but at night they go from the yards
and the factories
to join the crowds down main street way
in smoky barrooms
at crowded tables
they down their beer
and they talk about home
they’ve come to hear that music playing
that sweet-sad fiddle playing
things that you never hear
till you’re on your own

so play for them some down home music
yeah sing for them those country songs
and all your children
lost in the cities
they can’t help but sing along
sing of prairie summers
Ottawa river
and Sunday mornings
in a small Quebec town
just try and leave it all behind you
wherever you go it’ll find you
that sweet-sad country music
like a lover, friend, or brother
it’s gonna follow you down

La chanson française

Impromptu

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

j’avais une jolie fleur
qui poussait devant ma porte
mais un jour tu es venu
noir et sauvage
maintenant ma fleur est morte

refrain :
chant la vent, chant le ciel
tout est fini
tout mon bonheur est parti

et j’avais une hirondelle
qui chantait sur mon toit
mais un jour tu est venu
noir et sauvage
l’hirondlelle a perdu sa voix

et j’avais un grand amour
qui brulait dans mon âme
et je te l’ai donné
mais tu l’as rejeté
tu as éteint sa flamme

pleure le vent, pleure le ciel
tout est fini
tout mon bonheur est parti

Translation:
I had a pretty flower
that bloomed by my door
but one day you came
you were dark and wild
and now my flower has died

chorus:
the wind sings, the sky sings
everything is finished
all my happiness has fled

And I had a swallow
that sang on my rooftop
but one day you came
dark and wild
and the swallow lost its voice

I had a great love
that burned in my soul
and I gave it to you
but you refused it
you put out its flame

the wind cries, the sky cries
everything is finished
all my happiness has fled

Period Piece (The Rag Song)

Impromptu

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

Well we all know our poor planet is quite close to disappearing
under tons and tons of poisonous manmade shit
and ecologists are daily trying hard to find solutions
so together we can do our best to rescue it
we’ve got ozone holes and PCB’s, acid rain and DDT,
toxins and dioxins and nuclear waste
and now some clever soul’s discovered yet another problem
though some think that to discuss it is in quite poor taste

But that has never stopped me in the past so I will tell you
that it has to do with women and our physiology
and those tampons, pads, and plastic applicators that are
monthly blocking sewers, clogging landfills and polluting the sea.
so now someone has invented a reusable pad made of
cotton rather like the rags of grandmother’s day
and I guess you stash the soiled ones in a bag inside your purse
until you’re home and have a chance to rinse the bloody mess away

Well my head says, oh how noble but my gut says not another thing
I’m supposed to find the time for when my time’s in short supply
I mean I compost, I recycle, I keep worms that eat my garbage
I sew little bags to carry home the bulk foods that I buy
and we women still do more than half the housework not to mention
stuff engendered by our gender that you men will never know
like morning sickness, thirty-hour labours, hysterectomies,
caesarians and killer cramps and heavy monthly flow

But we really must do something ’cuz we’re talking those big E words
now Environment, Ecology, Earth in her time of need
besides giving up disposables can only bring relief, I mean
it’s got so I feel guilty every single time I bleed
yes I’m ready for reusable pads on one condition –
that the labour be divided fairly and therefore since
we women have no choice about it, let us bleed and suffer –
then we’ll hand the whole mess over and we’ll let the menfolk rinse!

[Spoken] Ah, a great idea, I can hear you women thinking —but what if you don’t happen to have a male companion? or what if you don’t want a male companion?

Well, I think this could be organized like a giant diaper service, free of course, so every guy would have to do a voluntary monthly shift, down at the old reusable sanitary napkin plant. I can see it now—vast white rooms, filled with steam, and dozens, no, hundreds of men, stripped to the waist, their bodies gleaming with sweat, hunched over the great vats of boiling water, those muscles at the base of their necks standing out like little golf balls as they rub and scrub and rinse and watch in awe as rivers of water flow away from them, red as roses, red as fire, red as the passion and pain and torture we women have suffered for thousands of years!

Finally men will begin to understand what it means to be a woman! Yes, it would be the dawning of a new age of empathy and harmony between the sexes.. So once again I say—

since we women have no choice about it
let us bleed and suffer
then we’ll hand the whole mess over and we’ll let the menfolk rinse
yes we’ll hand the whole mess over, hand the whole mess over,
hand the whole mess over and we’ll let the menfolk rinse!

Young Men

Impromptu

Music: Tom Leighton   Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

they move as quick as flowing water
their manners are rough and their spelling’s worse
they laugh too loud, but it doesn’t matter
they’re an unasked blessing and a blessed curse

they throw stones at your window at two in the morning
you say it’s too late and you won’t come down
but they are full of the juice of persistence
they know they can make you come around

and even though you feel delirious
you know you really can’t get serious
not with those young men, that’s who I mean
young men, so young and green
are you shocked and surprised?
are you scandalized?
or are you, admit it, tantalized?

they ask me what it was like in the sixties
did I ever see The Beatles on LSD
one minute they’re making me feel so young
and the next as old as some redwood tree

they’re big on rap and bands like Sonic Youth
sounds just like noise to me if you want the truth
oh God, did I really say that?
I can’t believe I said that
I used to listen to The Fugs, and Hendrix
and Frank Zappa!

save me from those young men
young and strong
young men can dance all night long
are you shocked and surprised?
are you scandalized?
or are you, admit it, tantalized?

oh what would my feminist sisters think
if they knew I consorted with younger fellas
would they suspect me of reverse exploitation
while secretly feeling just a wee bit jealous

I called an older male friend and I cry
I say I’ve fallen for this wonderful guy
but he’s just twenty-three and it’s such a drag
the friend answers dryly, “Don’t brag!”

older men with young women never had a problem
it’s this other way ’round that’s all so new
I find myself doing pathetic arithmetic
when I’m forty-nine, he’ll be thirty-two
and when he’s forty-nine, I’ll be—oh God, forget it
I’ll be ancient and grey, I’ll be out in the cold
’cause he can get wrinkles and he’ll be distinguished
but when I get wrinkles, I’ll just be old

but still and all perhaps I shouldn’t complain
could be I’ll never taste such sweetness again
with those young men
they have no past
young men think love can last
no mistakes to forget
they aren’t jaded yet
young men they’ve got nothing to regret

young men are big on the big questions
why is there a universe?
why are we here?
I guess I too was like that once
but the answers never came clear
so then I switched from why to how
and lately how shares time with when
as in: oh God, how am I going to pay the rent this month?
and somebody tell me
when will I ever get lucky again?

so often these young men think I’m cynical
they can’t believe they’ll ever get that way
but sometimes their dreams rub off on me
if only for a day

nature’s unfair
he can have kids ’til he’s a hundred and one
but with me if I don’t do it now
well, of course it won’t get done

so he’ll leave me some day for a younger woman
he’ll have a family—a girl and two boys
and I’ll be an old friend he can’t quite explain
who drops round to visit with cookies and toys

and I’ll probably have put on some weight
I’ll need glasses for reading
and he’ll be older too, maybe losing a little hair
but when his wife leaves the room he’ll tease me and say
“I’m still younger than you, so there!”

and what will he see when he looks in my eyes?
will he remember his startled delight
decades and centuries and eons ago
when I laid him down so sweet and so slow
and the stars fell around us on that August night

maybe now, now that I know
I’ll find it in my heart to forgive
all those old December guys
who marry sweet May things
pretty young playthings
Picasso, Trudeau
Chaplin and Fred Astaire
’cause mostly it’s men loving younger women
though you could say I’m trying to turn that around
maybe love is just what you can get away with
so maybe love could be whatever we dare

oh young men
that’s who I mean
those young men
but always over eighteen!
oh young men
those young men

Two Wheel Tango

Impromptu

Music & Lyrics: Marie-Lynn Hammond

those clingy black shorts they wear
the tanned and bony knees they bare
the helmets, leather gloves and pumps
the fanny packs upon their rumps
oh I like I like I like—a man on a bike!

even in a navy three-piece suit
with a briefcase on the carrier to boot
a silver clip encircling the shin
to neatly tuck the pant leg in
oh I like I like I like—a man on a bike!
(she likes she likes she likes gentlemen on bikes!)

something ’bout a man on a bicycle
that’s both naughty yet nice-icle
the friendly “Hi”s!
the muscled thighs
I melt just like an icicle
around a man on a bicycle

when it comes to the art of seduction
by now you must have made the deduction
that a fellow in a car doesn’t get very far with me
proving once again that less is more
I say two wheels are much hotter than four
and a five-speed or a ten-speed gives me all the speed I really need
to drive me to ecstasy

what a thrilling non-polluting sight
men pedalling with all their might
crouched like panthers over handlebars
trying not to be run down by cars
oh I like I like I like—a man on a bike!

I just know they must be special guys
I confess they make me fantasize
keep your movie stars for what they’re worth
give me a man who wants to save the earth
oh I like I like I like—a man on a bike!
(she likes she likes she likes gentlemen on bikes!)

something ’bout a man on a bicycle
that’s both naughty yet nice-icle
the friendly “Hi”s!
the muscled thighs
I melt just like an icicle
around a man on a bicycle

Oh I like I really like—a man on a bike!