flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
So another Pesach tradition you may or may not be familiar with — insanely long songs with 7,000,000,000 verses. It’s all fun and games at first, and I can hang through ‘Chad Gadya’ because drunk Jews impersonating oxen is always a larf, but then we hit ‘Ehad Mi Yodea’ and I die a little inside. 13 steadily increasing verses, yo. I don’t even care whether it’s the traditional tune or not, please, cut it short. And then there’s Dayenu, the song about how, if God had only done this thing but not the next thing, that would have been enough and we’d be grateful, and I sincerely can’t recall how many verses there are, but it’s far more than enough.
I’m not saying to avoid the traditional songs I grew up with, I’m just saying that 13 verses of the same very repetitive tune is a lot. Maybe two-three verses of each and then move on? There are songs we never even get to, y’all.