Friday, July 12, 2013

Ishkabibble

Ishkabibble!

When I was a child, my grandmother—we called her Guggy—would often say to me, when my hair was a mess or I acted strangely, “You look like an ishkabibble.”

My mom recently told me my new haircut made me look like an ishkabibble. Besides being a bit put off with her, I suddenly had this moment of a realization that I had no idea what that word meant. She didn’t even know what it meant. She just repeated what her mother had said to her so many times. She understood the implication, but had no idea “exactly” what it meant.

After we laughed about it, I got to thinking about how many words I say or the way I say them are just me parroting something or someone from my past.

Ish Kabibble (1908-1993) actually was a comedian and a cornet player, who had a bowl-cut hairstyle similar to the character Mo on “The Three Stooges.” Later the word became synonymous for garbage, trash or simply bull shit, according to the Urban Dictionary.

Thanks, Mom!

My friend Sharon has a very southern accent.  She often will say something that deserves commentary.

I protest, “How can a 4.0 student say that onion is an ‘ongyun?’” Or “why do you make that funny face after you talk about wearing designer shoes?”

She told me that many of her affectations are directly as a result of her mother. She simply did what her mother did; spoke what her mother spoke.

My question to her was: Do you want me to tell you when you mispronounce something or do something peculiar? Or would you rather me shut up about it?

She gave me permission to tell her. I know that I want to be told when something I do or wear is out of the ordinary. Too many times have I walked out of the house with a plain shirt and striped shorts, only to be told a week later that it looked odd. We have way too many people criticizing us for attributes we actually have. I don’t want to be judged for something I didn’t even originate. I’ll stick to the humbling place of being wrong to correct the errors of my ways.

I was practicing a song with my accompanist, an accomplished pianist and singer, last night. We got to a part where I gave this note to her, “Could you slow up on that part and, maybe, play some of the melody line because your harmonies are a little flat.”

I asked her later if I had hurt her feelings, because I may have come off like a know-it-all. She admitted that she started to get defensive, then realized that the criticisms I gave were about wanting us both to sound better, not intended to be mean or pompous.

I apologized anyway. I replayed the scene in my mind and realized that I can be a bit a tyrant when I sing a solo. I have a perfectionist mentality, which in some ways has made me an expert in my field. But in other ways, could quite possibly make me a jackass.

In my life I’ve realized that perfectionism isn’t what people look for in a performance anyway. Most people look for authentic passion and truth. Even someone singing flat or off beat can be completely palatable if he or she reveals a part of the soul that is raw and wonderful. If there is anything in life I don’t want to mimic, it would be my father’s need to appear perfect in every way. He wanted his family to look perfect, so his criticisms were harsh and painful. I spent my entire life trying to be perfect to avoid critiques.

Now, I realize that perfect is the problem. Perfection just doesn’t exist. Our goal should to be find that little ishkabibble in us all and let him have fun and be authentic and real, embracing every silly quirk, without any explanation or excuses.



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Bo Sebastian is a Hypnotherapist and Life & Health Coach, available for private sessions to QUIT SMOKING, Lose Weight, New Lap-Band Hypnosis for Weight Loss, CHANGE YOUR MIND, CHANGE YOUR LIFE! at 615-400-2334 or www.bosebastian.com.

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