The Freak Out

I can’t remember the parts of the freaking compass.

The test for my FMF pin (see below) will be on Wednesday with two naval officer and a Marine officer.  I’ve never met these people, and I’m not going to lie.  I’m freaking out.

When I was a rosh edah at Camp Ramah in the Berkshires, I had a group of teenage girls who kept singing this song that drove me nuts.

As a group they would call out one individual: “Hey [choose a name]”.

The individual would respond: “Hey What?”

Again: “Hey [same person]”

Again: “Hey What?”

“Do. The. Freak. Out.”

“The What?”

“The. Freak. Out”

(if the individual was super annoying, they would respond, “The What” again)

“Oh!!!!  The Freak Out:  I am freaking out!  I am freaking out!”

To which the group would respond: “We are freaking out! We are freaking out!”

I’m not sure if I fully appreciated the deeper meaning of the song.  The correct movements to accompany this chanting was clearly anticipating the popularity of the Harlem Shake, and maybe there was something in that.

Between Shabbat’s imminent arrival, Purim tomorrow, the FMF Test on Wednesday, and a trip to Guam, I’m freaking out.  I have a wife in the states, and a dog that tried to push me out of bed last night.  My RP is having a tough time with some stuff, and I'm hardly there for people who come to me for counseling this week.

And then.

The phone call.

From the base chapel’s office.

4:30 pm on a Friday afternoon.

Can't make this up.

“Rabbi, Can you give us your full schedule for Passover?”

Cue the My Cousin Vinny clip:

Maybe it was a bad time to bring it up.  Maybe.