7 ½ Cents

7 ½ Cents
by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross

Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests and asked, "What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?" So they counted out for him thirty pieces of silver. From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over.
– Matthew 26:14-16

So! Although!
Seven and a half cents doesn't buy a hell of a lot
Seven and a half cents doesn’t mean a thing . . .
– the Chorus in Pajama Game

Welcome again to Full-of-Woe Wednesday! This week that we call Holy Week is a world turned upside-down. And to follow through on that theme, in today’s post we’re going to go about things topsy-turvy, as well. My brother, Fuelgrip Skip, would like to write about one of his favorite songs, 7 ½ Cents from the 1954 musical Pajama Game. This has never been one of my favorites. So, here’s a transcript from our recent St Patrick’s Day outing. Maybe we can blame the green beer.

Fuelgrip: First off, I would think you’d give this musical a little latitude if for no other reason than it opened in 1954, our birth year.

Fireplug: I can think of a lot better things to celebrate from that year. There was the Brown v Board of Education decision. The first mass vaccinations against polio began. We added “under God” to the Pledge of Allegiance. And Yogi Berra and Willie Mays shared MVP honors . . .

Fuelgrip: Well, speaking of baseball, Joe DiMaggio married Marilyn Monroe. The first TV dinner was marketed. And the Fender Stratocaster guitar was first produced . . .

Fireplug: You’re citing those as pluses to me?

Fuelgrip: All right. Let’s get back to the music. Plus, you’ve already done one Billy Joel song this Lent.

Fireplug: We were starting to sound like We Didn’t Start the Fire, weren’t we?

Fuelgrip: So, when we encounter the song 7 ½ Cents in Act 2 of the show, Prez of the Pajama-Makers Union is just having one of those “light bulb over the head” moments:

I figured it out!
I figured it out!
With a pencil and a pad I figured it out!
Only five years from today!
Only five years from today!
I can see it all before me!
Only five years from today!
Five years! Let's see . . . that’s 260 weeks, times forty hours every week, and roughly two and a quarter hours overtime . . . at time and a half for overtime! Comes to exactly . . . $852.74!
That's enough for me to get
An automatic washing machine,
A year’s supply of gasoline,
Carpeting for the living room,
A vacuum instead of a blasted broom,
Not to mention a forty inch television set!

Fireplug: Let me say upfront that I think the idea of planning strategically for your future is great. And little things do add up to be a lot. But you know my whole problem with this show: it’s just one big ad for unions.

Fuelgrip: Just because the International Ladies Garment Workers’ Union underwrote the whole show, that shouldn’t totally taint it. I mean, without some sort of patronage, we wouldn’t have any musical on Broadway right now, not to mention Mozart or Shakespeare or . . .

Fireplug: True. But it just seems like the whole idea of unions is so passé, if not downright counterproductive.

Fuelgrip: Tell that to the coal miners.

Fireplug: I just think unions have outlived their usefulness: I didn’t say they weren’t important in the past. Tell you what, for every mustachioed, canary-carrying, candle-in-the-headlamp-wearing, “I owe my soul to the company store”, meat pie in the pocket, How Green Was My Valley coal miner you can find these days, I’ll spot you a major league pitcher bringing in $400,000 per pitch, or an actor whose net worth exceeds many African countries. What do they need help with? And when it comes to the “real” workers, like the coal miners, it seems to me that the only folks getting really wealthy are the union bosses.

Fuelgrip: Order me another round, while we continue with the song:

Only ten years from today,
Only ten years from today,
I can see it, clear as daylight,
Only ten years from today!
Ten years! Let's see . . . that’s 520 weeks, times forty hours every week, and roughly two and a quarter hours overtime . . . at time and a half for overtime! Comes to exactly . . . $1705.48!
That's enough for me to buy
A trip to France across the seas,
A motorboat and water skis,
Maybe even a foreign car,
A charge account at the corner bar,
Not to mention a scrabble board with letters made of gold!

Fireplug: Here’s your pint – and I hope you have a charge account at this bar!

Fuelgrip: I think I know why you don’t like this show: it’s from the first time we saw it as kids.

Fireplug: You mean that really scary guy that played Hines? Boy, he creeped me out!

Fuelgrip: I agree. For years after that, when people would warn us as kids not to take rides from strangers, I would see him in my mind’s eye as the driver of the car.

Fireplug: You too? Well, I hope my dislike of this show isn’t totally subjective. And there are a lot of the other songs that I really like.

Fuelgrip: Like which?

Fireplug: There Once Was a Man: it’s a lot of fun. I always wondered how this, yee-haw, Frankie Laine song sounded to Eisenhower-era theatre-goers.

Fuelgrip: What else?

Fireplug: Hey There is a good ballad and Steam Heat’s a very versatile number.

Fuelgrip: What about Her Is?

Fireplug: Creepy.

Fuelgrip: I’m Not at All in Love?

Fireplug: It's OK but a tad overblown.

Fuelgrip: Once a Year Day?

Fireplug: Now there’s what I’m talking about. It’s a fun enough song, but I always felt a little sad for the folks at the factory. It’s like there was this antagonism built in between the management and the workers, and the unions were willing to fan those flames just so they could appear necessary to the process. In fact, they actually held back the brightest and best: now those folks only get a “once a year day” and they’re limited to “7 ½ cents” in raises.

Fuelgrip: Let’s hear the last verse and I think we’ll hear what you’re talking about.

Fireplug: Do we have to go through all that math again?

Fuelgrip: I’m afraid we must:

(Babe and Prez): We figured it out!
We figured it out!
(All): With a pencil and a pad they figured it out
(Babe): Only twenty years from today
(Prez): Only twenty years from today
(Babe): I can see it like a vision
(All): Only twenty years from today
(Prez and Babe): Twenty years! Let's see . . . that’s 1040 weeks, times forty hours every week, and roughly two and a quarter hours overtime . . . at time and a half for overtime! Comes to exactly . . . $3411.96!
Wow!
(Prez): That's enough for me to be
A sultan in a Taj Mahal
In every room a different doll!
(Babe): I'll have myself a buying spree,
I'll buy a pajama factory,
Then I could end up having old man Hasler work for me!

(All): So! Although!
Seven and a half cents doesn't buy a hell of a lot,
Seven and a half cents doesn't mean a thing!
But give it to me every hour,
Forty hours every week,
And that's enough for me to be living like a king!

Fireplug: Do you think that Judas had also “done the math” with the thirty pieces of silver?

Fuelgrip: What do you mean?

Fireplug: Well, I don’t think he ever got the big picture with Jesus and His ministry. Judas got angry when the woman used all that costly perfume to wash Jesus’ feet. I don’t think he understood the symbolism that she was preparing Jesus’ body for burial.

Fuelgrip: Plus, Judas was more concerned with being in charge of the treasury – probably for his own benefit.

Fireplug: True. And as Jesus told him, there would be plenty of time to take care of the less fortunate – He was only going to be with them a little longer, so pay attention. It was kind of the same thing he told Martha when she was upset that Mary was just sitting there listening to Him.

Fuelgrip: And so you think Judas decided to take the money and run?

Fireplug: I know there’s more to it than that - a lot more - but I think he was also being really short-sighted.

Fuelgrip: But that’s why I like 7 ½ Cents. It’s encouraging people to think about the long haul.

Fireplug: Fair enough. But I just don’t think they need some union boss to help them with that. In the same way, I would much rather have the money I’m paying into Social Security to invest it myself. I know I’d do a lot better job.

Fuelgrip: Spoken in all modesty. Actually, though, I think you might be right. But back to Judas: those thirty pieces of silver did buy “a hell of a lot.”

Fireplug: Pretty good, brother. Hey, before you finish your beer, I know one song from Pajama Game that we can both agree on!

Fuelgrip: You mean Hernando’s Hideaway?

Fireplug: Yeah! We used to have a lot of fun with it. I think we’ve ruined that Robert Frost poem for more people, though.

Fuelgrip: So let’s warn anyone reading your blog on Wednesday. Folks: if you want to remember the work of Robert Frost as you always have, please quit reading now, and Fireplug will see you tomorrow.

Fireplug: OK. If you’re still with us today, sing the following poem to the tune of Hernando’s Hideaway. Enjoy!

Whose woods these are, I think I know
His house is in the village, though
He will not see my stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow