Three Men in a Tub / Tres Hombres en una Bañera

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
And all of them gone to sea.

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DO YOU SUPPOSE who ever wrote the preceding rhyme in the 14th century (this version is the one I grew up with) knew how long it would survive, how many versions there would eventually be, and how homoerotic it would become?

The following version from 1825, closer to the original, is from Boston, Massachusetts:

Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think were there?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
And all of them going to the fair.

Apparently the original version was about THREE MAIDS in a tub. The butcher, baker, and candlestick maker were simply enjoying the view.

And none of this has anything to do with today’s blog post really.
Except what the candlestick-maker made.

. . . . .

Frota-dub-dub,
Tres hombres en una bañera,
¿Y quién crees que son?
El carnicero, el panadero, el fabricante de candeleros,
Y todos se fueron al mar.

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¿SUPONES QUE QUIEN escribió la rima anterior en Inglaterra en el siglo XIV (esta versión — con mi propia traducción — es de mi infancia) sabía cuánto tiempo sobreviviría, cuántas versiones habría eventualmente, y cuán homoerótica se volvería?

La siguiente versión de 1825, más cercana a la original, es de Boston, Massachusetts:

Frota-dub-dub,
Tres hombres en una bañera,
Y quiénes crees que estaba alli?
El carnicero, el panadero, el fabricante de candeleros,
Y todos yendo a la feria.

Aparentemente, la versión original era sobre TRES MUJERES en una bañera. El carnicero, el panadero, y el fabricante de candeleros simplemente estaban disfrutando de la vista.

Y nada de esto tiene nada que ver con la entrada de hoy.
Excepto lo que hizo el fabricante de candeleros.

Dolphin candlesticks purchased in 1993 at a shop called Tchotchkes in the Hillcrest neighborhood of San Diego, California. Maybe 1930s; maybe 1990s. Approximately 19 cm (7.5 inches) tall.
Candelabros de delfines comprados en 1993 en una tienda llamada Tchotchkes en el barrio Hillcrest de San Diego, California. Quizas 1930; quizas 1990. Aproximadamente 19 cm de alto.

“Petticoat” candlesticks. Warsaw, Poland, around 1890. When my maternal grandfather’s synagogue in Brooklyn closed in the 1960s, he gave these to my mother. She gave them to us around 2005. They measure approximately 29 cm (11.5 inches).

Candelabros “Enagua”. Varsovia, Polonia, alrededor de 1890. Cuando la sinagoga de mi abuelo materno en Brooklyn cerró en la década de 1960, se las dio a mi madre. Nos las dio alrededor de 2005. Aproximadamente 29 cm.




Mid-19th-century Russian. My Aunt Sylvie was cleaning out a “junk drawer” and gave these to us. Around 20 cm (8 inches) tall.

Mediados del siglo XIX ruso. Mi tía Sylvie estaba limpiando un “cajón de basura” y nos los dio. Alrededor 20 cm de alto.





Another pair from Aunt Sylvie’s junk drawer. Missing the wax catchers (bobeches). I just pulled them out of MY junk drawer and need to polish them. 15 cm (5.75 inches) tall.

Otro par del cajón de basura de tía Sylvie. Faltan los atrapadores de cera (bobeches). Los saqué de MI cajón de basura y necesito pulirlos. 15 cm de alto.

I found the colored glass wax catchers (bobeches) at IKEA around 2005. I bought green, orange, red, and purple, and went back for more a month later. They no longer stocked them.
Encontré los colectores de cera de vidrio coloreados (boboches) en IKEA alrededor de 2005. Compré verde, naranja, rojo, y morado, y volví por más un mes después. Ya no los abastecían.

Russian Gypsies / Gitanos Rusos

La versión español está después de la versión inglés.

There are a few photos from the 1920s of my paternal grandparents in some kind of folk costume. Since they both emigrated to the United States from Russia (Belarus, to be exact) early in the 20th century, I thought when I was a boy that the costumes were traditional dress from their homeland.

Years later, My Mother The Dowager Duchess, who unfortunately never hid from us her strong preference for her own parents, told me they probably just went to costume parties in New York. She said it with disdain and usually followed with, “MY parents weren’t like that.”

I’m sure The Duchess was right — that they went to costume parties. Still, I really did like to think of them as Russian gypsies.

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Hay algunas fotos de la década de 1920 de mis abuelos paternos en algún tipo de disfraz popular. Dado que ambos emigraron a los Estados Unidos desde Rusia (Bielorrusia, para ser exactos) a principios del siglo XX, pensé que cuando yo era niño los trajes eran trajes tradicionales de su tierra natal.

Años más tarde, Mi Madre, La Duquesa Viuda, que lamentablemente nunca nos ocultó su gran preferencia por sus propios padres, me dijo que probablemente habían ido a fiestas de disfraces en Nueva York. Ella lo dijo con desdén y usualmente le decía: “MIS padres no eran así”.

Estoy seguro de que La Duquesa tenía razón — que iban a fiestas de disfraces. Sin embargo, realmente me gustaba pensar en ellos como gitanos rusos.

Lady Liberty’s Spanish Holiday

We bumped into Lady Liberty last week while shopping in Mijas Pueblo. She said she was here for a short break. Although it’s always a pleasure to see her, I’m hoping the “short break” is not one of those alternative facts we’ve lately heard so much about.

ON THE PLAZA VIRGEN DE LA PEÑA.
VIEWED FROM THE GLASS ELEVATOR
AS WE HEAD BACK DOWN TO THE PLAZA.

Fifteen Tapas

It seems a day out on the town, any town, is not complete without us stumbling upon a really great restaurant. After Mariposario de Benalmádena (Benalmádena’s Butterfly Park, see two previous posts), we continued another 5 minutes into Benalmádena Pueblo (the old village). Having only been there once before (click here for my first visit), I was familiar with only one little cafe, so we parked the car and began to head downhill through town.

It was a quiet and gloriously sunny winter day already past 2:00, which meant even the stores that might be open this time of year were closed for siesta. We thought, before settling down to lunch, we’d check out Plaza de España, a charming historic plaza. There were a couple of nice-looking restaurants. We chose the second one we came to, Restaurante Plaza.

It was warm enough in the sun to enjoy a meal out on the terrace, but the cloud of cigarette smoke hovering all around decided us to head inside. We headed up some stairs to a room with terraced windows that looked out onto another street. Service was a pleasure and the menu was varied and unusual. We each chose our own three tapas and we were definitely not disappointed.

HAMBERGUESA DE CHIVO
(GOAT HAMBURGER)
MUSHROOMS AND STUFF… (I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT
IT WAS CALLED, BUT IT WAS REALLY GOOD).
CRUJIENTE DE SALMON, QUESO DE CABRA, Y BOK CHOI.
(CRISPY SALMON WITH GOAT CHEESE.)
SALMON WASN’T CRISPY, JUST PASTRY IT WAS WRAPPED IN.

Numbers in another language can sometimes cause confusion. San Geraldo ordered his tapas by number. Cuatro (Four), Once (Eleven), and Diez y Cinco (supposed to be, but not, Fifteen). Since he was pointing to the items as he ordered, the waiter nodded and took down the information. When Judy ordered, she followed San Geraldo’s lead and requested Diez y Cinco. The waiter was a bit further away. He hesitated and looked at me. I said she didn’t want both Diez y Cinco (Ten and Five), she wanted Quince (Fifteen). The waiter laughed. San Geraldo laughed. And Judy said, “Well, that’s what I get for following Jerry’s lead!”

RESTAURANTE PLAZA, PLAZA DE ESPAÑA,
BENALMÁDENA PUEBLO.
HEADING BACK TO THE CAR.
THE SCENIC ROUTE, A DIEZ-Y-CINCO–MINUTE WALK.