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Wednesday, October 14, 2009

New Shlock Rock Album--Name Your Own Price!

My pal Lenny Solomon has done it again! This time, he's the first to offer an all-new, full length album as an exclusive download--and you get to name your price!

That's right, pay whatever you want, from a measly $1 all the way up to full price of $15 and get the album NOW as a direct download. If you pay full price, you will also get a CD mailed to you.
(And you know, BTW, that you can always burn your own CD from your downloaded album if you need one to play in the car and keep the kids quiet).

This is for real folks, not like the "suggested donation" at the museum where they say 5 cents and then shake you down for $24.99 for adults and $18.99 for children. What's with that, anyway? Is it a suggested donation or a mandatory price? What up with the pretentiousness? But I digress.

Lenny has worked his tuchas off for this album and it's a steal at any price, but go check it out right now at Shlock Rock.com!!
And as long as I'm writing a post here, WHY DON'T YOU HAVE ANY OF MY ALBUMS IN YOUR COLLECTION??? Go to MosheSkier.com and download one of my albums, from iTunes or Amazon (or order a CD)! Plus, there's plenty of free music to download as well.
It's a Jewish Music download EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

The Watch

The Watch

A Timex
A brown Timex Expedition
With the faux leather strap

It is old, perhaps ten years
Perhaps more
It is in the pictures when my last child is born

It is very old
The brown strap is gone, long ago
The replacement strap has broken, finally
The next band will not stay in place
The face is scratched
I cannot tell seven from one
It still works, wakes me up every morning at 5

It is time for a new watch

The Mall

The Kiosk
My wife has decided
It is time for a new watch
She will treat me
There are four sides to the Kiosk
Scores of watches in displays
Revolving displays for the cheaper brands

I browse
I walk in circles
I revolve about the Kiosk
I cannot decide

I don't have all day!

I orbit the kiosk

What about this one?
No, I can't have a face watch
My life is ruled by appointments
15 minute appointments
All day

I need to SEE the numbers!

So you want digital
There are many choices


I am orbiting faster now

It will not be found in the display cases
Those are too expensive
Why pay for $200 watch that doesn't have any numbers?
I am not ornate
I don't want a piece of jewelry


Look at the little revolving displays
You can choose
Cascio or Timex?

There are numbers
Many features

I don't need these features!
I don't go diving!
This watch will never see 20 fathoms!

Although I do the dishes...


I don't need seven stopwatch settings
I don't need four time-zones

What about this one? It looks nice
Where is the date?
Here, 21, don't you see it
Yes, but what month?

Do you mean to tell me that you graduated medical school but you don't know what month it is??

Don't you understand?
My life is ruled by appointments
I look at my watch all day
I write notes and prescriptions all day
I look at my watch and write the date each time


I don't like the Cascios
These Timex watches are too expensive
$70 for a watch?
I don't need 5 different alarms


What's this?

A Timex
A brown Timex Expedition
With a faux leather strap


A shake of the head.

He'll take it.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Tailor of Glendale

The place was hard enough to find, buried, as it was, within the parking structure itself. As I left my car and approached the storefront, marked simply "Tailor," it seemed to me that the shop had been there forever, that perhaps after a long and protracted battle, the Corporation had simply given up and built the Super Mall and its parking around it.

I entered the empty front parlor and waited to be acknowledged. As I did, I took in the surroundings. A typical tailor’s shop: potted plant…counter and register…tape measures on the wall…the floor length mirror…the dressing room. Through the doorway, the sewing room, with a wall-sized poster of "The Tailor of Panama." Surely, I thought, this movie is to tailors what "Edward Scissorhands" is to barbers. I chuckled.

At this, he finally entered the room. A wiry, gray-haired, neatly dressed gentleman. He sized me up as well. As he did, a sour expression appeared on his face. Later, on my way home, I would try to convince myself that this was a result of a bad lunch, or possibly some ethnic affectation, and not a personal reaction to my appearance, as the expression never left his face the entire time I was with him.

I waited for him to speak.

Finally I stammered, "The man from Boston Store…he told me to see you…" I hoisted my suit bag.

"You are the vun hoo called." It was a statement. I nodded. "Please, to put on."

I went into the dressing room and began to change. As I did, the band came off of my watch and it flung itself to the floor. I cursed to myself and went down to pick it up and attempted to put it back together with one hand while I held up my pants with the other. The watchband was new. I don’t know how old the watch was. Maybe it was time for a new watch altogether, I thought. The tailor was witness to none of this, thankfully. I could only imagine what new contortions such a spectacle would bring to his features.

I emerged and stood in front of the mirror. I looked at myself, thinking I don’t look quite as dashing as I though I would. Again, in retrospect, this is actually a compliment to the cut of the suit, as usually I look at myself and think, I have GOT to lose weight.

The tailor returned from his inner sanctum and clearly was not impressed. He scowled further and said, "You hev jacket?"

I returned with the jacket in hand. "The man at Boston store," I began again, "he said that the collar should be pinched…" I attempted to pantomime the effect. He waved me off.

"Put on…please." Clearly he had no interest in what the Man from Boston Store thought. I wonder if the MFBS would continue to send him business if he knew that.

Immediately I felt him go to work with the marking chalk. Hacking and slashing at my back as though it were a dagger, or maybe a scalpel. I tried to think of my grandfather. He was a tailor. I remembered finding a box full of the little rectangular chalk in his office. At the time, I thought it was hotel soap. The tailor spoke and brought me out of my reverie.

"OK, take off…please."

I obliged. He looked at my waist. "How is waist."

"A little snug," I replied, immediately thinking I should have said "tight", because maybe he doesn’t know what "snug" means. No matter. Again with the slashing on my backside. I could only hope that meant he would let it out a bit.

I have had trouble with suits for many years. Before my wedding, I went to Syms on Queens Boulevard and bought a black suit off the rack. It required no alterations. I beam from my wedding photos in that suit, a smooth-shaven, white-toothed, lean Adonis of a youth, embracing his new fashion-model bride. I don't know where that guy went. Some time after the wedding I turned into the shlump staring back at me in floor length mirror. The one with the orthopedic shoes, who has to buy suits either too big and tailored down or too small and tailored up.

The tailor crouched now, like a tiger, and looked at those shoes. If dyspepsia was something that could be seen, his face was now the very description of that term.

"You vill vear these shoes…?"

I attempted to answer, but only a faint grunt emerged.

He persisted. "You vill vear…these…shoes…vith this suit…?"

I felt like I was trapped. Caught in a cross-examination, with the light burning into my eyes. There was no escape. Briefly I thought I would explain my spine issues to him, my scoliosis, my leg-length discrepancy, my years of hoisting amplifiers over my head, the hours standing in shul, the miles of hospital corridors I walk daily, my increasing conviction that comfortable footwear with appropriate inserts can cure back pain. Somehow, I reasoned, none of this would impress the impeccably dressed man from the former Soviet Union.

Instead I answered weakly, "yes."

Satisfied that he had broken me, he proceeded to mark my cuffs.

I changed back into my street clothes, the bright aquamarine shirt and brown tie, that I had fielded questions about all day. "No, it’s not turquoise." "Yes, it is bright." "My wife bought it for me." That generally shut them up. I supposed he wouldn’t be impressed if I told him that it was $3.99 at Penny’s with 30% off. No, I didn’t suppose he’d be impressed one iota.

I left the suit on the hook for him. When he reemerged from his chambers, he eyed the suit in disgust. "Vhere is hanger?" he demanded.

"Oh…I…" He shoved me aside and expertly folded the pants, replaced the jacket, and pulled down the suit bag, all with one hand, and I’m not sure, but possibly without looking, because it seemed he managed to beam me the evil eye at the same time.

Finally, the time came for reckoning. We moved to the ancient cash register. He pulled out a card. Now, for the first time, I could see a smile emerging on his face. He eyed me again, up and down. Taking in the aquamarine shirt, the pens in pocket, the mismatched tie and Dockers pants.

He knew he had me. I was defeated. He was the victor. There was nothing I could do.

"You vill return in two veeks."

Yes Master, was all I could think.

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Jerusalem of Gold

Here's a song I recorded with my son Kovi, who's off in the Holy Land now:

Jerusalem of Gold

Right click (or control click on a Mac) to download

Monday, May 11, 2009

Bar Yochai - Free Song

Just in time for the Holy Day of Lag BeOmer, the MSB has recorded a new song honoring Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, called...er...Bar Yochai!

You can take a listen over at Kfarcenter's Website, or download it to your computer/iPod/MP3 player from here.

Happy Bonfire!

Monday, April 27, 2009

Facebook Killed the Blogger Star

Wanderer made a comment about your note "Attack of the Seven Year Old Shnorrers":
What's most impressive is that you're blogging on Facebook....

Mark also commented on his note "Attack of the Seven Year Old Shnorrers":

"I thought I'd give it a try. What do you think? I think I liked Psychotoddler better. Plus Dr. Bean’s not here :-("

From: Wanderer Sent: Friday, April 24, 2009 8:46 AM
To: Dr. Bean; Mark
Subject: Fwd: Mark also commented on his note...

I think FB gives you a captive, target audience, whereas there is more opportunity for a wider audience with PT.

Maybe we can get Dr. Bean to sign up so he can again enjoy the fruits of your labor?!?
He knows he wants to...

From: Dr. Bean
Sent: Friday, April 24, 2009 10:56 AM
To: Wanderer, Mark
Though I miss the blog-crazy days deeply, and I also miss Mark, another online time sink is not what I need in my life right now. For what it’s worth I’m not even seeing Wanderer as much as I’d like, and he lives right here.

From: Mark
Sent: Friday, April 24, 2009 9:20 AM
To: Dr. Bean, Wanderer
Cc: Mrs. Balabusta
Subject: RE: Mark also commented on his note...

But then how am I going to be able to tell you about what happened to my pager?

On Fri, Apr 24, 2009 at 9:29 AM, Dr. Bean wrote:

Email, my friend, email. That’s how middle aged folk communicate. Not your wacky new-fangled FaceBook or My Space. That’s for kids. Like that rock and roll stuff…

From: Wanderer
Sent: Friday, April 24, 2009 9:42 AM

Email? That's so late 20th Century. What next - voice mail?

It is a common misconception that Facebook is for kids. Silly rabbit, MySpace is for kids. Facebook is for adults who want to waste time just like their kids do on MySpace...

On Fri, Apr 24, 2009 at 9:47 AM, Dr. Bean wrote:

Yes, that’s true. And that’s not my real objection to it. My real objection to it is that I don’t have a good strategy for how I would interact with patients on it. I would probably do it if it wasn’t for that.

From: Mark
Sent: Friday, April 24, 2009 10:00 AM

The issue is more about limiting what I would say knowing that there's a patient who might read it, and I'm already doing that anyway. Like the pager story is definitely not going up there.

On Apr 24, 2009, at 5:53 PM, Dr. Bean wrote:

Can we hear the pager story already? Oh, I guess it’s already Shabbat there. Well, there it’s Shabbos. Anyway, Sunday will you email me the story?

From: Wanderer
Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 8:31 PM

Shabbat is long gone, and still no pager story. It's 1130 in Milwaukee, he's probably asleep...
On Apr 26, 2009, at 8:39 PM, Dr. Bean wrote:
I suspect foul play. Hey, Wanderer why don’t you give him a call to check on him? Wait another hour or two though.

From: Wanderer
Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 8:40 PM

Definitely foul play. Do you think Mrs. B’s involved again?

On Apr 26, 2009, at 8:42 PM, Dr. Bean wrote:

There’s only one way to tell. One of us has to call.

From: Wanderer
Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 8:46 PM

I'm scared. Its not like the old days when we could read about Mark openly on Psychotoddler. Now we need passwords and stuff to read his blog on Facebook.

Frankly, this new hush hush way of blogging has me worried. I'm afraid to call. You do it.

On Apr 26, 2009, at 8:47 PM, Dr. Bean wrote:

Ok. We’ll use this way to decide which one of us calls:
I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 10. Guess which it is.

From: Wanderer
Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 8:50 PM

Here are the numbers you're thinking of:
mobile 414.555.1212
home 414.555.2345
Dial away!

On Apr 26, 2009, at 8:54 PM, Dr. Bean wrote:

First of all, I have (414) 555-1234 for his mobile. Second, I was thinking of "7", so you call.

It’s no big deal. It’s actually only 11 there. (you said 11:30 before but you were thinking Eastern time. He’s Central.) Anyway even if you wake him up, he won’t mind. He’s not doing much tomorrow, and it’ll be worth it to confirm he’s OK.

From: Wanderer Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 8:57 PM

What?!?! He changed his mobile number and didn't tell me?!?!?!
I thought we were friends!

Forget it. I ain't calling! And I'm not really that interested in the pager story anymore either!

From: Wanderer
Sent: Sunday, April 26, 2009 9:09 PM

Hey wait. I have a better idea!

Let's start sending him emails with really large attachments until we completely max out his mailbox and fill it to the gills. That'll teach him!

I'm gonna go first and send him that Japanese video about how to fold a matzah.

From: Dr. Bean

It’s too late. I’m getting tired. I still have a bunch of work to do but it’s hard to concentrate knowing that Mark is probably dead. Here’s how sad I am:

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Saturday, March 07, 2009

Things That Are Hard To Do

 Things That Are Hard To Do:

A 2nd Grade assignment

by The PT

1. tHE monky barse

2. deelling witH the ViRUS DAtA BaSS

3.  doing the longrye

4.  taking a shawr

5.  Spelling words

6.  wateing.

7.  geting cabl

8.  playing OblivEin

9.  coloring with a Drid-out marckr

10.  Bascit Ball

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Album Available at Amazon.com

Yep, you can get us at Amazon.com too:
So now there are three ways to get the album:

1.  Amazon

2.  Get the CD from Moshe Skier .com

3.  iTunes

What are you waiting for?!