Paula Deen Two Years Later
Two years ago, the media racism carnival centered around Paula Deen. A disgruntled former employee was shaking down the celebrity. The DFE, who was white, claimed racial discrimination. Many say the DFE was exploiting the oppression of black people for personal gain.
A few things have happened since this story was published. These three links tell part of the story. Race-based claims thrown out in Paula Deen lawsuit, Paula Deen lawsuit appears to be over; settlement a possibility, Paula Deen closes restaurant at center of harassment lawsuit.
This story is a repost. Some of the links in this story no longer work. The link to Deposition of plaintiff Lisa T. Jackson vs. Paula Deen Enterprises, etc. does work. Pages 15 and 153 are interesting. On page 267, Lisa Jackson says that Jim Crow is a singer.
The New York Times did it’s liberal media duty Saturday with a story about Savannah, and the Paula Deen controversy. There were three curious words in paragraph four. “The predicament that Ms. Deen finds herself in began when a former employee — a white woman who is now managing restaurants in Atlanta — filed a discrimination lawsuit in March 2012.”
This thing has seemed, er, fishy from the get go. The restaurant industry is full of disgruntled former employees, few of whom are paragons of virtue. DFE worked in a restaurant partially owned by a famous person. It is uncertain how active the famous person was in the day to day operation of the restaurant. DFE has a lawyer, who gets famous person to say embarrassing things in a deposition. Somehow, this deposition is leaked to National Enquirer. And now we learn that DFE is white.
Confirmation of the ethnicity of DFE is tough to come by. Few pictures are available. You have to ask Mr. Google repeated questions. A law industry blog called Huseby (spell check suggestion:Houseboy) has a good story on the matter, with a couple of links.
The attorney for the plaintiff, Matthew Billips, has a few issues. “The case began with an “inflammatory letter seeking over a million dollars for forgo filing a lawsuit and allow Deen ‘a chance to salvage a brand that can continue to have value,’ ” Withers’ document said. (Tom Withers, attorney for Bubba Hiers, the brother of Paula Deen) In the motion to dismiss Billips, Withers quoted a tweet by Billips in which he said “suing Paula Deen is a hoot.” Withers also referred to a sexually laced tweet Billips directed at Deen “even more concerning.” In it, “Billips promises to symbolically undress and have sex with” Deen, Withers said. “Billips has posted sexually explicit tweets using extremely graphic and profane language and imagery. He has used the “N” word,” Withers’ motion said.”
Huseby links to an article in the ABA Journal that is downright fascinating. This feature confirms that Lisa Jackson, the DFE/plaintiff, is melanin deficient. The Deen-Hiers legal team has filed a motion, that is highly entertaining. Unfortunately, the pdf is not copy friendly, so the ABA summary will have to do. If you have the time to read the legal motion, you will enjoy it.
“The motion by lawyer Tom Withers says the plaintiff pursuing race-based claims has no standing to assert them because she is white, the Savannah Morning News reports. The plaintiff, Lisa Jackson, had claimed she was sexually harassed and worked in a racially hostile environment at a restaurant owned by Deen and her brother. Withers represents Deen’s brother and the restaurant.
According to the motion, Jackson claimed she was offended because her nieces “are bi-racial with an African-American father.” But the motion says there is just one niece, and she is related to Jackson’s partner, who said in a deposition that the niece’s father is Hispanic and she hasn’t seen the girl in years…. “Jackson cannot enforce someone else’s right, and she has no actionable claim for feeling ‘uncomfortable’ around discriminatory conduct directed at others … Jackson must show that any harassment was directed toward her because she was white, but at her deposition she alleged she was treated more favorably than African American employees at the restaurant.” (p.153)
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Amount Of Anonymous Vitriol
My last box-of-free-books score was “The Color Purple” and the Bible in Spanish. ~ when you google “example of white pr” one of the choices is “example of white noise process” ~ I haikuize poems. count syllables for jesus. regressive lifestyle. ~ I am at Goodwill. They are playing Tiffany. Whoa I am happy. ~ @nihilist_arbys Is it Monday again? Oh good. Toil, cry, drink yourself into sweaty oblivion. Die a little more each day. Eat at Arbys. Repeat. ~ David Crosby interview ~ a useless test ~ …Like these celebrity bloggers and tweeters, I found the amount of anonymous vitriol that emerged in my blog’s comment sections personally demoralizing and discouraging. ~ @JudithShulevitz @TheRobertWright Suppose a guy is a serial doer of that ~ BHO is routinely labeled “black” when he had a white mother ~ that moment when you send out answers to craigslist ads, you get an email, you eagerly look in the inbox, and it is a friend thanking you for sending a link to the ethel merman disco album it could be worse though the time before that it was a gimme money message from the black conservative fund ~ Lexington Herald-Leader is pleased to provide this opportunity to share information, experiences and observations about what’s in the news. Some of the comments may be reprinted elsewhere in the site or in the newspaper. We encourage lively, open debate on the issues of the day, and ask that you refrain from profanity, hate speech, personal comments and remarks that are off point. Thank you for taking the time to offer your thoughts. ~ @pourmecoffee I’m done with the Trump tweets and I’m sorry. Please accept this photo of Johnny Cash with a kitten as my apology ~ holy synchronicity posting about #rupaul & hairdo challenged idiot while #donaldtrump is throwing his wig into the race for POTUS ~ If you throw a couple of spaces into a name, then Assisi becomes Ass is i ~ police ~ @ELPlNTOR why is donald trump running for president he has no lips @chamblee54 you can’t tell if they are moving ~ I really can’t think of any candidate more suited to represent the United States than a narcissistic asshole. ~ Whenever you hear that war is good for nothing, consider that Kennesaw Mountain is untouched by development. ~ nonsense ~ @Jizismyname Suicide is retroactive abortion ~ No, the darkest places in hell go to those who call a Clarence Thomas opinion a moral crisis. ~ We shall overcomb. ~ It is obvious why they call that plan POS ~ When discussing her hate crimes, the hairdo challenged lady said her 13 yo son was so traumatized that he slept in the same bed as his mother. No one seems to think this is strange. This is at the 6:21 mark of this video. ~ Should I co sign off on calling you tangent? ~ this post was flagged by the community and is temporarily hidden. View hidden content. ~ This is one of the STUPIDEST articles I have ever read! ~ Food safety is our highest priority worldwide and we take allegations of this nature extremely seriously ~ Duude I’m certain it was the inclusion of “serial litigant” on her resume that got her that top position at the Spokane chapter of the NAACP. To the NAACP, that’s important work experience.~ Daily Mail you have at least 6 articles about this woman today. You have officially run this story into the ground. Even Miley Cyrus’ pit hair is more interesting. ~ Sorry, we couldn’t complete your request. ~ @postcrunk a capitalist service economy reliant on tipping, crowdfunding, welfare, and the free and open sharing of media inevitably becomes socialist ~ looks like a criminal justice kind of day #SCOTUSBLOG ~ Why do they play this game of a slow release of the decisions? Why not release them all at once? Are they actually still writing opinions? Or is because they enjoy keeping the public’s attention? #SCOTUSBLOG ~ The headline sounds like they are using fracking as a euphemism for another “f-word.” The language is peculiar. ~ 50 Questions To Completely Free Your Mind ~ @postcrunk just having an international conversation on race and gender that completely deconstructs our notion of identity, hbu? ~ Didn’t G-d hang a rainbow in the sky after Noah’s Ark landed? ~ Polly D. Issem would be a good stage name. ~ belief is the death of intelligence ~ New NYC Homeless – New NYC Coffee ~ @jbouie @jonathanchait @tanehisicoates if racism is systemic institutional oppression, Dylann Roof is not racist this is an individual ~ 1- Maybe we need to define racism. Some say it is fear and loathing of the other. Others say racism is systemic oppression. If racism is systemic oppression, then a pathetic gun nut shooting up a church is not racism. 2- Jesus worship religion is violent. It is obsessed with the gruesome execution of Jesus. Believers enjoy verbal abuse. We don’t know what happened to Dylann Roof. 3- The easy availability of deadly force is a problem. There are reports that Dylann Roof did not have the legal right to own a gun, because of some drug charges. Maybe having more gun laws is not the answer, if we don’t enforce the ones we already have. 4- As for the whining in the media about what the other says about this, and how the media covers events… that is a good distraction from the trade agreements, global warming, the national debt, drone warfare, and the Kardashians. ~ Avvo does not rate this lawyer because he or she is deceased. ~ @thelindywest is this for real? It seems a bit off I have never known a bully to act like this ~ The third commandment says not to use the name of G-d “in vain.” I believe a political document qualifies. ~ I still have the text file for this meme. Any self appointed media critic complaining about coverage of the Charleston shootings, or any other event, is in danger of having this text pasted onto their photograph. ~ @AnnCoulter Author – follow me on facebook Disregard my earlier claims that I’d never be on Facebook. ~ There is only a couple of letters difference between solemnize and sodomize. ~ the enemy is fear we think it is hate but is is fear mohanas gandhi ~ @chamblee54 wikiquotes does not have this – does anyone have a source? pretty memes do not tell us very much ~ @EdDarrell Rats. I have no source. @chamblee54 Mr. Gandhi left a huge archive If he said this there should be a record somewhere ~ @mmthagandhi @gandhiideeas three posts about Mr. Gandhi ~ pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. ~ selah
35 Broad Street
PG was having a delightfully slack afternoon, The one productive activity was editing pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. In box seventy two of “corporate bodies”, in the Lane Brothers archive, there was a picture commissioned by King Road Marker Company. It displayed a brand new crosswalk, over Marietta Street at the intersection of Broad Street. The picture was taken at 1:51 p.m. September 27, 1954. This is a repost.
The time caught PG’s eye. 1:51 is one of the times used to display clocks and watches in advertising. Most ads use 10:09. This arrangement of the hour and minute hands makes a welcoming gesture. This allows the logo of the watch to be visible, and is thought to encourage the viewer to purchase the timepiece. The shadows on the buildings indicate that the picture was shot in early afternoon.
The clock with the magic time advertised the C&S national bank. The building behind the clock was the headquarters of that bank. In 1954, Citizens and Southern bank was a prime player in the Atlanta market. (PG’s dad said that C&S stood for choke’m and squeez’m.) At some point, C&S merged with NCNB to become Nationsbank, which was later absorbed by Bank Of America.
C&S kept it’s headquarters at 35 Broad Street for many years after competitors built trophy buildings. Their were constant rumors about where the C&S highrise was going to go. Finally, C&S Plaza was built at Peachtree and North Avenue, a mile north of five points. The building was to become the tallest building in America outside of New York and Chicago. During the construction of this building, C&S became part of Nationsbank.
The picture is featured in Atlanta Time Machine. The building is now owned by Georgia State University, with a BOA branch on the first floor. The banking hall is spectacular. It was designed by Philip Shutze, before the great depression. Here is more information.
Nations Bank Building (Citizens and Southern National Bank Building, Empire Building)
35 Broad Street, NW 1901: Bruce and Morgan, Architects, NR.
Remodeling of Lower Floors and Interiors 1929:
Hentz, Adler and Shutze, Architects; Philip Shutze, Designer
Fourteen stories high, the Nations Bank Building was the first steel-frame structure to be built in Atlanta. Its clear-cut silhouette, simple fenestration, and heavily decorated terra-cotta top bear the influence of the Chicago School. In 1929 the building became the headquarters of the Citizens and Southern National Bank, which asked Philip Shutze to redesign its three lower floors. Because the impression of load-bearing masonry was regarded as better suited for a banking establishment than large glass panes were, the original display windows were replaces by classical motifs apparently “carved out” of Indiana limestone.
Philip Shutze was inspired by Italian Mannerism, and especially by the city gates of Verona by Michele Sanmichelo (1484-1559) … Reached from Marietta and Walton streets through lofty arcaded entryways and a more intimate elevator lobby in the early Renaissance style on Broad Street, the banking hall is a long nave articulated by colossal Corinthian pilasters. While its walls and floors feature several kinds of Georgia, Tennessee, and European marbles in a warm gold-brown color scheme, the ceiling, from which hang gigantic chandeliers, is left bare. The Pantheon, which Shutze had measured during his internship at the American Academy in Rome, served as direct source for the pedimented niches, and for the floors with alternate square and circular patterns. Also, of Roman inspiration are the bronze desks and the eagle motif found throughout the design.
How To Drive In Atlanta
1. You must first learn to pronounce the city name, Atlana. Old-timers are still allowed to call it Alana.
2. The morning rush hour is from 5:00 am to noon. The evening rush hour is from noon to 7:00 pm. Friday’s rush hour starts on Thursday morning.
3. The minimum acceptable speed on I-285 is 80 mph. On I-75 and I-85, your speed is expected to at least match the highway number. Anything less is considered ‘Wussy’.
4. Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. Atlanta has its own version of traffic rules. For example, Ferraris and Lamborghinis owned by sports stars go first at a four-way stop. Cars/trucks with the loudest muffler go second. The trucks with the biggest tires go third. The HOV lanes are for the slow Floridians passing through who are used to hogging the left lane everywhere.
5. If you actually stop at a yellow light or stop sign, you will be rear ended, cussed out, and possibly shot. Unless there is a police car nearby.
6. Never honk at anyone. Ever. Seriously. It’s another offense that can get you shot.
7. Road construction is permanent and continuous. Detour barrels are moved around for your entertainment pleasure during the middle of the night to make the next day’s driving a bit more exciting. Generally, city roads other than the main streets have more potholes and bumps (usually speed bumps) than most dirt roads in the countryside.
8. Watch carefully for road hazards such as drunks, possums, skunks, dogs, barrels, cones, furniture, cats, mattresses, shredded tires, squirrels, rabbits, and crows.
9. Spelling of street names may change from block to block, e.g., Clairmont, Claremont, Clairmonte.
10. If someone actually has their turn signal on, wave them to the shoulder immediately to let them know it has been “accidentally activated”.
11. If you are in the left lane and only driving 75 in a 55-65 mph zone, k, e.g., you are considered a road hazard and will be “flipped off” accordingly. If you return the flip, you’ll be shot.
12. For summer driving, it is advisable to wear potholders on your hands. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
RuPaul Has Striven
People are getting tired of talking about #transracial, or whatever that hairdo challenged woman was claiming to be today. An interview with RuPaul is usually more entertaining. Especially when a *possessive pronoun disputed* reality show is going to be shown in Great Britain, and needs promotion.The result: RuPaul: ‘Drag is dangerous. We are making fun of everything’
The article is about what you would expect. There was a comment about not wanting to drop “she-mail” from RPDR. This bit of language whimsy had the PC police on red alert. If you want to be old fashioned and read the article, just follow the link. The real fun starts in the comments. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Celtiberico Rebel who dressed like “boy who fell to Earth” Is Illuminati lizardmen conspiracy true?
The article Celtiberico links to is full of zesty quotes. “Drag Race is a brutal look at the underground world of radical homosexuality. Hosted by a lanky female serpent by the name of RuPaul … Drag Race is much more than a Gay Agenda plot to lure the heterosexual population into hardcore sodomy. By assaulting patriotic Christendom with seductively sensual transgenderism … It comes as no surprise, then, to learn that RuPaul ends each show with the ancient Freemasonic incantations of “Shan-te” and “Sa-che,” both of which are prayers spoken in the original Coptic and meant to invoke the Illuminati god of enchantment, Isis. … This unassailable evidence seems to suggest that Drag Race is an attempt to infect the media with viral images of shape-shifting sex vixens to make complete alien domination more comprehensible for the human race.”
BeckyP Although RuPaul has striven to make a positive contribution, and remains an excellent role model, the same cannot be said of Bruce Jenner..and yet Bruce Jenner appears on the front cover of Vanity Fair. Astonishing. Blythe Freeman Striven is a past participle, please rephrase. whood I strive. They strived. We are striving. They have striven. calm yourself down. RoyalSuperiority Aren’t both ‘has strived’ and ‘has striven’ equally acceptable here? Mihangelap “we strove” equally acceptable Pollik RuPaul? Positive role model? To whom? (Clue: it is not the trans community)
snecko Why not spend time being angry with people who disagree with you? I’d be willing to bet that, by and large, people involved in drag would share 99% of your worldview. I just don’t get this obsession of nitpicking at the habits of people who are essentially your comrades when there are actual bigots still out there. Drag’s ‘transmisogyny’ and racism, if it exists, is obviously not the intended message or the guiding values of the movement. To me, it seems to be about being who you want to be in a non-judgemental and loving atmosphere, which should be pretty groovy to anyone remotely on the left. I just don’t get why you would attempt to shit all over it for accidental transgressions which are debatable in the first place.
Pixles Counted Yep. The dress and all the makeup in the world cannot take all the chauvinism away from this kind of masculinist ideology. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you, Rupaul. You don’t have to follow the same cycle of abuse, you can choose to break the chains of violence. We are strong, and we don’t need your paternalistic neoliberal self-help philosophies to get us through the day. We have before you and we will after you. Step out of the way. georges1 Sorry, but who is this ‘we’? ArundelXVI Yeesh. Did RuPaul kick your dog or something?
vonZeppelinThis comment was removed by a moderator because it didn’t abide by our community standards. Replies may also be deleted. For more detail see our FAQs.
bcnteacher Love Ru Paul but I am my own role model.
Toomuchstupidhere No, drag is boring and predictable – yesterday’s news. Trans is much more thought provoking. sUgadee I know this is the guardian, where British ignorance is highly valued and accepted, but the show has had a few trans contestants.
Sceptic101 I’m confused. The Guardian seems to habitually refer to transvestites, transsexuals, etc as ‘she’. Is this a new and realistic policy? chickenlover4 Either Ru specified to use the pronoun “he” or I think it’s a “he” because in the interview he is not in drag. If you’re in drag it would be “she” or “they”. I think pronouns are subjective to each individual and you just have to exercise sensitivity. People will forgive you for not using the correct pronoun. (PG is recovering from a run in with the pronoun police. *They* do not forgive.)
pineapplesage exhibitionist nihilism xesolor Self-gratifying troll.
Magnolia La Manga If drag is embarrassing these self-respecting gays (whatever that means), I think it’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to…
HelloKittyFanClub I had to scroll to the top of the page for a moment to check if I was on the Daily Mail comments section. Some of you seriously need to get over yourselves; between the veiled and not so veiled homophobic comments and the negative know-it-alls you sure know how to drag (ho-ho) down a show that is all about fun, entertainment, light and love.
Human On Human Crime
@postcrunk but what about human on human crime? and why do humans destroy their own communities? ~ Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked ~ And if you want to get shitty, we can make it a big shitty party. We can all get funky together! Letter from Billie Holiday to Tallulah Bankhead ~ Is Drone Warfare Terrorism? ~ This is a matter for compassion and patience. This should be extended to people who slip up and use an improper pronoun. ~ @awkwardpodcast Ok, Internet: where do I start with Eckhart Tolle? ~ You are… Optimistic The things that you saw in the test cards show that you have an optimistic personality, are out-going, happy most of the time and have a healthy and strong mind. When you face a problem in life you tend to focus on the positive side of things, even if sometimes this might seem hard. You’re very courageous and active and easily dive into new challenges, rather than hide, avoid or run from them. Your capacity to adapt to new situations is high above the average which makes you an easy-going person always surrounded by lots of people and good friends. Good for you! ~ @WernerTwertzog When someone says, “I am going to be honest,” I believe that they either are lying now or that they lie habitually. ~ @awkwardpodcast Hey, internet: who am I supposed to be outraged at today? Please let me know ASAP, thanks! ~ @chamblee5 the #pronounpolice are busy with the Jenner person and will not be able to help ~ hrm An onomatopoeic word of the sound or hum you would emit when raising an eyebrow, expressing scepticism or mentally picturing something bizarre. by snowflake.beaver January 27, 2009 ~ Am I painting myself as a horrible human being right now? Lol ~ Not horrible, just controversial maybe. I need to read more to understand context. I see validity to both arguments. ~ I get tired of being lied to. ~ ” when we test the efficacy of our placebos, what will we test them against?” Fox news ~ Facebook has some strange stuff sometimes. “Pro-tip: Mediocre white “stand-up” comedians making racist remarks about President Obama = walking punchline. At least they will when I’m done with them.” The “racist remark” was calling the POTUS Barry. The life changing smackdown: “Honky you ain’t slapping shit except that two inch boner with a tweezer.” ~ i admire the work done by mohels i don’t think any jewish man has a bad circumcision ~ @illex The Burger King is there to collect the losing horses and turn them into delicious burgers. ~ Maybe it is a lunar thing. I had a bad case of the jesushatesme blues last night. Maybe today will be better. ~The spell check suggestion for jesushatesme is statesmen ~ “It’s okay to be happy when others are unhappy.” It is not something to boast about. It does not mean that you are better than the unhappy person. Especially when your happiness is related to their unhappiness. ~ Some “happy” peeps are awfully proud of their positive outlook. If you are not as happy as they are, it is your fault. ~ @nihilist_arbys Hey, you know what else produces the same shitty, doomed, meat based joke over and over? human vaginas. Arbys: it’s curtains for all of us. ~ Read French version here. ~ @pourmecoffee … adobe updates, you are the saddest suitor, relentless, reviled ~ @chamblee54 … chamblee 54, ignores adobe update, per pourmecoffee ~ The notion that a radical is one who hates his country is naive and usually idiotic. He is, more likely, one who likes his country more than the rest of us, and is thus more disturbed than the rest of us when he sees it debauched. He is not a bad citizen turning to crime; he is a good citizen driven to despair. H.L. Mencken ~ “Comparison is the thief of joy” – Theodore Roosevelt … Wikiquotes calls this “disputed.” The source given is “As quoted in Becoming a Great School (2013) by Cooper, Gustafson and Salah, p ix.” This does not sound like something Mr. Roosevelt would have said. It is probably a bit of anonymous folk wisdom, with a famous name attached. ~ @TheKevinAllison the spell check suggestion for apatheist is therapist ~ Franklin Graham is a convincing argument against nepotism. ~ go to espn check score of hockey match auto start player began turn page off last words were you can’t skip this geico ad ~ @WisdomOfChopra “Transcendence imparts reality to potential life” ~ @ChrchCurmudgeon Wouldn’t it be wonderful if a Christian horse wins the Triple Crown next year?~ pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. ~ selah
I Sing The Body Electric
1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?
And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
2
The love of the body of man or woman balks account,
the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees,
dress does not hide him,
The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women,
the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street,
the contour of their shape downwards,
The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through
the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls
silently to and from the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats,
the horse-man in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles,
and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hosing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses
through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty,
good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,
The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle
through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,
The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again,
and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck
and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast
with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line
with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.
3
I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.
This man was a wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard,
the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes,
the richness and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive,
clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,
He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet
through the clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself,
he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner,
he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish,
you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him
in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
4
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly
round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them,
and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.
5
This is the female form,
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor,
all falls aside but myself and it,
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth,
and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed,
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it,
the response likewise ungovernable,
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused,
mine too diffused,
Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling
and deliciously aching,
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love,
white-blow and delirious juice,
Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.
This the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.
Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest,
and is the exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
The female contains all qualities and tempers them,
She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,
She is all things duly veil’d, she is both passive and active,
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.
As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness,
sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.
6
The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place,
He too is all qualities, he is action and power,
The flush of the known universe is in him,
Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well,
The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost
become him well, pride is for him,
The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul,
Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always, he brings every thing
to the test of himself,
Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail
he strikes soundings at last only here,
(Where else does he strike soundings except here?)
The man’s body is sacred and the woman’s body is sacred,
No matter who it is, it is sacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang?
Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you,
Each has his or her place in the procession.
(All is a procession,
The universe is a procession with measured and perfect motion.)
Do you know so much yourself that you call the meanest ignorant?
Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight,
and he or she has no right to a sight?
Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float,
and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,
For you only, and not for him and her?
7
A man’s body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
In this head the all-baffling brain,
In it and below it the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,
They shall be stript that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby,
good-sized arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
Within there runs blood,
The same old blood! the same red-running blood!
There swells and jets a heart, there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations,
(Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d
in parlors and lecture-rooms?)
This is not only one man, this the father of those who shall be fathers
in their turns,
In him the start of populous states and rich republics,
Of him countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring
through the centuries?
(Who might you find you have come from yourself,
if you could trace back through the centuries?)
8
A woman’s body at auction,
She too is not only herself, she is the teeming mother of mothers,
She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers.
Have you ever loved the body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the body of a man?
Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations
and times all over the earth?
If anything is sacred the human body is sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood untainted,
And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is more beautiful
than the most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body?
or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves.
9
O my body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women,
nor the likes of the parts of you,
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul,
(and that they are the soul,)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems,
and that they are my poems,
Man’s, woman’s, child, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s,
young man’s, young woman’s poems,
Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,
Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows, and the waking
or sleeping of the lids,
Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,
Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,
Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue,
Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoulders,
and the ample side-round of the chest,
Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger,
finger-joints, finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round,
man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,
Leg-fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under-leg,
Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel;
All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body
or of any one’s body, male or female,
The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean,
The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping,
love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud,
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming,
Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening,
The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes,
The skin, the sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand
the naked meat of the body,
The circling rivers the breath, and breathing it in and out,
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips,
and thence downward toward the knees,
The thin red jellies within you or within me, the bones and the marrow
in the bones,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,
O I say now these are the soul!
Text for this adventure is from the Project Gutenberg.
The text was reformatted by Chamblee54.
“I sing the Body Electric” was written by Walt Whitman.
An audio version of this poem is available from Librivox.
Reposted May 31,2015, Walt Whitman’s 196th Birthday. Pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Ira Hayes
The post before this is about Arizona SB1070, a controversial measure dealing with illegal immigration. One of the men quoted is the Sheriff of Pima County, which lies on the border.
Pima County is named for the Pima Tribe, whose land was in Arizona and Sonora, Mexico. Their name for the “river people” is Akimel O’odham. According to Wikipedia, “The short name, “Pima” is believed to have come from the phrase pi ‘añi mac or pi mac, meaning “I don’t know,” used repeatedly in their initial meeting with Europeans.”
Many of the Mexicans crossing the border are Native Americans. They did not agree to the Gadsden Purchase, or the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. In other words, they were here first, and the white man (and black associates) are the uninvited guests.
The second part of this feature is a repost. One of the best known Pimas was Ira Hayes. He was one of the Marines who raised the flag on Iwo Jima.
One of the enduring images of World War II was raising the flag on Iwo Jima. Three of the six men raising the flag died on the island. A fourth, Ira Hayes, became a casualty after the war.
The story of Ira Hayes is well known, but needs to be told again. A member of the Akimel O’odham (Pima) nation, his people had not been treated well by the conquerors. Nonetheless, when the War against Japan started, men were needed for the struggle, and Ira Hayes joined the Marines.
Iwo Jima was a steppingstone to the main island of Japan. After Iwo Jima and Okinawa were in Yankee hands, preparations could be made for the invasion of the main island. However, the stepping stone islands proved to be incredibly tough to secure. There were more American casualties on Iwo Jima than on D Day.
On the fourth day of the battle, a picture was made of six marines raising the flag on top of Mount Suribachi. A month of sticky, treacherous fighting was ahead for the fighting men. Of 21,000 Japanese soldiers, 20,000 died.
The flag was raised on February 23, 1945. Germany was all but defeated. The “explosive lens” for the atom bomb had been successfully tested. Viewed from the standpoint of 1945, it seems inevitable that the costly island hopping needed to continue, to be followed by an invasion of the Japanese mainland. From the view of 2009, one wonders if the fight for Iwo Jima, in retrospect, was really needed. War is fought in the present tense.
Two of the twelve hands holding the flagpole belonged to Ira Hayes. Ira Hayes did not adjust to peacetime well. He became a drunkard. On January 24, 1955, he passed away.
Ira Hayes was a native American. Thousands of African Americans have returned from foreign wars, to be treated poorly. Until a few months ago, if a man, or woman, is accused of being gay, the service is forgotten. On Memorial Day, we should struggle to ensure that all future veterans are treated with respect, all year long. This is a repost. Pictures are from The Library of Congress and “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
A Season in Purgatory
Some books you need a closet to read in. They are so much fun, and yet so trashy. The one star reviewer says this about A Season in Purgatory. “I would sum up this potboiler as readable trash … I hated myself for reading it and yet couldn’t put it down !”
The Bradleys are a wealthy New England family that is supposed to really be the Kennedys. The patriarch, Gerald, got his money through, um, investments. Gangland activities are often mentioned, but never really specified.
The central character is Harrison Burns. He is a writer, who makes enough money after a while to stop work, and point a finger at a long ago crime. The book goes back and forth from being told from the viewpoint of Mr. Burns, to a hazy, all knowing, third person. Maybe the walls really do have ears, and know how to dictate.
The story rolls along, with plenty of sex, dirty dealing, alcohol and highly questionable coincidences. Many of the players are thinly veiled famous people. You are ashamed for enjoying it so much. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
HBDBD
This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. By the time this is posted, it will be Bob Dylan’s seventy fourth birthday. This chamblee 54 birthday tribute is composed primarily of three previously published pieces of work.
It was a late may morning in Atlanta GA, and a slack blogger was searching his archives. Yes, Issac Asinov never got writers block, and when he wasn’t going to the bathroom he was typing, but that is a lifestyle choice. Easy writing makes tough reading. So, anyway, in the may archive for 2011 there was a post about Bob Dylan’s seventieth birthday. People were taking bets on whether he would make it to thirty, and here he is at seventy four.
Hibbing MN is a cold place. At least it can claim to be the birthplace of Robert Allen Zimmerman. That’s Allen ,with an e, and double L, just like hell. The original initials were RAZ, which might be a good trivia question, or, with a silent W in front, radio station call letters. The problem is, he legally changed his name to Bob Dylan, with no known middle name. Those initial are BD.
On May 24, 1941, the curly haired wonder boi arrived. The world was a different place. Europe was in flames, and eyeing the young men of America as fresh cannon fodder. This was twelve years, eleven months, and eighteen days before PG graced the planet. A twelve year old in Hibbing MN would have no reason to think of a newborn baby in Atlanta GA.
These days, not everyone knows who Bob Dylan is. Auto tuned automated canned music is the next big thing. If auto tune had been around in 1963, we would never had known how badly Mr. Dylan sings. In an age where rappers pay ghost writers to compose their tweets, being able to write songs is not valued. There is just no telling. And so it goes.
A.J. Weberman has made a life out of going through Bob Dylan’s garbage. He wrote a book, “The Devil and Bob Dylan”. “THIS BOOK CHALLENGES ALL PREVIOUS CONVENTIONAL THINKING ABOUT BOB DYLAN. DYLAN IS JUST THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT YOU BELIEVE HIM TO BE. BUT WHAT PURPOSE DOES IT SERVE EXPOSING HIM AS A RACIST, HIV POSITIVE EX-JUNKIE AND HOLOCAUST DENIER? NONE EXCEPT THAT OF TRUTH, AND THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE. $17 INCLUDING POSTAGE! THE BOOK IS 500 PAGES AND FULLY ILLUSTRATED.
There was a comment on the Bob Dylan webpage… Everybody knows by now that there’s a gazillion books on me either out or coming out in the near future. So I’m encouraging anybody who’s ever met me, heard me or even seen me, to get in on the action and scribble their own book. You never know, somebody might have a great book in them. PG doesn’t write books. He did grow up in America, and has a few opinions about Bob Dylan. It ought to be good for a few hundred words here. (HT to dangerous minds ) (Chamblee54 has posted about Mr. Dylan before.)
The first time PG heard of Bob Dylan was probably at the record rack of Zippy’s dime store in Cherokee Plaza. There was an album of his greatest hits, and it came with a poster. The poster had a drawing of the man, with psychedelic waves of hair cascading in multi colored glory to the edges. PG never did buy the LP.
The former Mr. Zimmerman was never big on top 40 am radio. Somebody somewhere was getting a headache over those lyrics, but Atlanta GA was not somewhere in those days. By this time, Mr. Dylan had crashed his motorcycle, and gone into hiding. As the counter culture exploded (if only someone had disinfected that counter) the curly haired poet was in hiding, the subject of much speculation. At one point, people were stealing his garbage, and claiming to find evidence of investment in munitions firms. The neoscience of Dylanology continues to this day.
As PG got older and stupider, he heard more and more Bob Dylan music. In the summer of 1972, there was a performance at the Concert for Bangladesh. A couple of albums released during this era sucked, and some people stopped caring about Bob Dylan.
At the start of 1974, a tour was announced. The Band was to be the backing group. The circus came to the Omni, and PG got some of the mail order tickets. He couldn’t find anyone to use the second ticket, and sold it to a stranger outside the arena.
The show was nothing special. Bob Dylan excels at writing, is ok in the studio, and blah on stage. Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter was at the show, and was said to look bored. Mr. Dylan was invited to the Governor’s mansion after the show, and talked to the Governor. A lot of people in Georgia were surprised that Jimmy would want to run for President.
As the Seventies went me me meing into sex and drugs oblivion, Bob Dylan regained both his writing touch, and love of the spotlight. The Rolling Thunder tour happened, he got back together with Joan Baez, divorced his wife, became born again, became more Jewish, counted money, and generally lived the life. PG did his own version of all that, without Joan Baez or being circumcised again.
In the winter of 1991, America was consumed by war fever. Saddam Hussein had been elevated to next Hitler status, and had to be taught a lesson. One night, Bob Dylan played on a music awards show, and performed “Masters of War”. He played a discordant version of that ditty, with the result that few understood what he had said. By this time, Mr. Dylan had assembled a band, and gone out on the “Never Ending Tour”. A Bob Dylan concert had gone from being a special event, to being another name on the festival roster. Overexposure will do that.
On the last night of the Olympics in 1996, Bob Dylan played the House of Blues downtown. PG won a pair of the $80 tickets in a radio station contest. It was his only trip downtown during the games, and had to wait in a security line to get into Centennial Olympic Park.
The only celebrity, other than Mr. Dylan, seen at the House of Blues that night was Bill Walton. The band was competent…they impressed PG as being like a bar band that did a lot of Dylan songs, with a strangely authentic lead vocalist. The sound in the room was not good, at least in the spot where PG stood. The only song he recognized was “All along the Watchtower”, the Jimi Hendrix classic. Mr. Dylan got a cheer when he put his harmonica appliance on.
The aptly named dangerousminds has a link to a story about the recording of Blonde on Blonde, by Bob Dylan. It only happened once.
Bob Dylan was 24 years old, newly married, and had “sold out” i.e. started to play electric guitar. A bunch of Canadians known as The Hawks (later The Band) was touring with him. Barely a month after the release of “Highway 61 Revisited”, sessions started at a New York studio.
The New York sessions did not work, so a decision was made to go to Nashville. Al Kooper played organ, and served as a music director. A crew of Nashville players was recruited. A bass player named Joseph Souter, Jr. would become famous a few years later using the name Joe South. Kris Kristofferson was the janitor at the studio.
Most studios have bafflers, or sound proof room dividers, splitting the studio into cubicles. For these sessions, the bafflers were taken down, and the band played together as a unit.
The second session in Nashville started at 6pm and lasted until 530 the next morning. Mr. Dylan was working on the lyrics to “Sad eyed lady of the lowlands”, and the recording could not start until he was ready. The musicians played ping pong and waited. At 4am, the song was ready, and the record was finished in two takes.
PG had marginal encounters with two of the players on this album. He met a lady once, who worked in an insurance office. One of the customers was Joe South. His driving record file was an inch thick.
Al Kooper had a prosperous career after his association with Bob Dylan. The former Alan Peter Kuperschmidt produced the first three Lynyrd Skynyrd albums, sold that contract for a nice piece of change, and lived happily ever after.
One night, Mr. Kooper was playing a show at the Great Southeast Music Hall, and PG sat in front of the stage. During a break between songs, PG asked his friend “what time is it?”. Mr. Kooper heard him on stage, and said it was 11:30.
If it ever quits raining, PG is going to walk to the Chamblee library and return a book, and a cd. The cd is by Bob Dylan, and is a work of genius. The book is about the former Mr. Zimmerman, and is a piece of garbage. (BTW, Dylan is not the only Zimmerman to hit the big time. Ethel Merman was born Ethel Agnes Zimmerman.The Zimmerman telegram got us into World War I.)
When returning cd’s to a library, you need to get a check in receipt. Once, PG returned a stack of cd’s to the Brookhaven library. When checking them in, one was missed by the scanner. A few days later, there was a note in the mail about an overdue cd.
The good news was, the cd was on the shelf when PG went back to investigate, and the matter was quickly settled. It did not help that the cd was a collection of disco music called “Shake your booty”.
“The freewheelin’ Bob Dylan” was released in the early sixties, when the man was barely old enough to buy a drink. There is not a bad song on it, and several are classic rock staples. At a time when mindless pop dominated pop music, here were thoughtful, moving lyrics.
In 1991, with America in a war frenzy, Mr. Dylan appeared on a music awards show. He performed “Masters of War”, at a time when the majority would be appalled if they could understand what he was singing. Mr. Dylan has been reinvented many times, and often the lyrics get gargled.
Five years later, PG won tickets to a Bob Dylan concert. It was the last night of the Olympics, and the man was appearing at the House of Blues. (Tickets were $80, so the radio contest is the only reason PG went). It was like hearing a good bar band, that did nothing but Dylan songs, with the man as the vocalist. Due to the mix of the sound, PG could not recognize many of the songs.
The book is Bob Dylan: Prophet, Mystic, Poet by Seth Rogovoy. It tells the Dylan tale as a story of Jewish prophecy. PG got to page 16, where the author claims that “Like a Rolling Stone” “almost single handedly revolutionized rock’n roll music”. Huh?
PG was eating dinner, and did not have anything else to read. He got to page 38. Nothing in the next 22 pages changed his mind away from ditching the book. How does nonsense like this get published?
Witch
A podcast, read poetry and eventually die, featured a poet named John Mortara. PG became interested when the poet was a queer witch, or was it witchy queer. Never mind that the poet writes more about prozac than black magic. Just because poets take prozac, that doesn’t mean that prose writers take poetryzac.
It turns out there was an Atlanta stop on a tour. PG drove through Dickhater, past the Donald Trimble Mortuary, until a string of red brick houses appeared. PG looked at the mailbox of the first one. The mailbox fell off the pole. That was not the correct house.
PG got there twenty minutes early, and drove around the neighborhood until nine pm. In a few minutes, the hostess announced that the event was taking place in the basement. There was a half hour before the event started.
The basement had atmosphere. Literally. At one point, the host announced that cigarette smoking was acceptable inside. Holy 1958. It had been years since people smoked indoors, and here was a crowd of young, young people… one poet read a piece about the one hair on his chest, which he names after either republicans, or democrats, depending on how bad it smells. He read the poem from his phone.
The host and hostess did double duty as the master, and mistress, of ceremonies. They wore bathrobes, that were supposed to be lab coats. They were auditioning people to take on a trip to Mars. There must be a shortage of poets, comedians, and tweeters on the red planet.
For a while they alternated poets and comedians. A lady said she could choose from playing fake blackjack with geriatric queers at the Hideaway, or going to Lithonia to have sex for ten minutes. A man made murder Kroger jokes. PG crouched on a wooden shelf thing in the corner of the basement, with an exposed light bulb shining in his face.
After a few performers, there was an intermission. PG went back to his vehicle, which was not broken into. He got a baseball cap, to block the light bulb.. At this point the hostess made the glorious announcement that smoking was not allowed in the basement. The air conditioning brought the aroma upstairs. The back yard kudzu approved.
During the intermission, the sound system was tweaked to allow two ladies to perform. The tweaking did not take, and they shouted “stay off my snapchat you piece of shit homie” over the recorded music. For faux microphones, the ladies used a mountain dew bottle, and a comb.
The final performer was John Mortara. (spell check suggestions: Mortal, Mortar) The poet had purple hair, a wool hat, and a sleeveless shirt saying “I am a unicorn.” The first piece was recited from memory, with no need for a microphone. There was a piece about tweets written on prozac… all that twitters is not gold. Soon the show was over. The last line: “Told my dad I’m a fricken witch.” Pictures for today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”. UPDATE This comment appeared on facebook. John Mortara “i am frequently misgendered throughout this article and it makes me angry.” An attempt at correcting this has been made. UPDATE TWO Here is the story of what happened later.UPDATE THREE Read Poetry and Eventually Die was hacked by by Mr.dexter.305. This attack from Saudi Arabia.
The Great Southeast Music Hall
The Great Southeast Music Hall was an important part of life in Atlanta during the seventies. It was located in the elbow of a shopping center, Broadview Plaza. A bowling alley was downstairs, a two level K mart next door, and Atlanta’s first hispanic neighborhood across the street. Like almost everything else here, Broadview Plaza was torn down, and replaced by a more uppity set of stores.
When you went into the lobby of the Music Hall, you noticed the walls. Performers were given a magic marker, and encouraged to leave a message. John Mayall found the ladies room, and said he likes to be near the ladies. The late Phil Ochs said “Impeach Nixon and Agnew”. What happened to those boards is a good question.
The auditorium held about 500 people. The stage was only three feet or so above the floor. There was an empty space in front of the stage, and a few rows of bench backs behind that. When the place opened, there were lots of pillows on this floor, with the Music Hall logo. The carpet in this front area was fresh when the place opened, and got progressively grosser as the years went by. Beer was served in aluminum buckets, and inevitably some wound up on the carpet.
The show the Music Hall is most famous for is the US debut of the Sex Pistols. PG didn’t make it that night, but has heard from a few who did. The performance was said to be horrible. There are stories of Sid Vicious wandering through the apartments around Broadview trying to find heroin. Years later, PG was reading about that night in Please Kill Me, when the train he was riding pulled into the Lindberg Marta station. This is across the street from the Broadview Plaza, still standing at the time.
These days, the intersection of Lindbergh Drive and Piedmont Road (about a mile north of the park) is next to Hiway 400. When the Music Hall was in it’s prime, the land for the Highway was owned by the State of Georgia, which was fighting legal battles over the highway. The land had a network of dirt roads, one of which connected Buford Hiway to Lindbergh Drive. When you went from Chamblee to the Music Hall, the most direct route was over this dirt road. This dirt road is where Sidney Marcus Boulevard is today. Broadview Plaza was torn down, and replaced by a Home Depot.
Eventually, the business model for the Music Hall did not work, and the facility moved to Cherokee Plaza. This Music Hall was in a movie theater. The Cherokee Plaza Theater was the scene for the world premiere of Son of Dracula . This move did not work, for a number of reasons. The parking lot was too small, and people who wanted a loaf of bread from the A&P were blocked out during shows. Cherokee Plaza is just outside the city limits, on Peachtree Road. In the late seventies, DeKalb county was aggressively fighting drunk driving, and had roadblocks. Many of these roadblocks were outside the Music Hall, which kept many people from attending. Before long, this Music Hall closed.
Many years later, PG bought a second hand typewriter, and needed a ribbon. (Younger readers should ask an older person about this.) He went into an office supply store in Broadview Plaza, and soon realized that he was standing on the site of the Music Hall. He asked the clerk if he could have a bucket of beer, and got a very strange look in return.
One industrious afternoon during this era, PG made a list of shows he saw at the Music Hall. The memory cells are already protesting, but we are going to try and remember as much as possible about these shows. A big thank you to Wikipedia for help with spelling and names.
New York Rock Ensemble – PG walked into the auditorium during the last part of the first show, as the band played “A whiter shade of pale”. The bass player wore lace up boots, with the pants legs tucked into them. Before long, the second show came on stage. Keyboard player Michael Kamen was the central focus, acting out the lyrics to “Anaconda”.
Silverman Deborah McColl fronted this drummerless band
Al Kooper PG has written about an unfortunate incident involving Al Kooper during this show. This would have never happened in “The Catcher in the Rye”…the kids always knew what time it was in that story. Mr. Kooper did a solo show, including “Sam Stone” by John Prine.
Ellen McIlwaine/ James Cotton Blues Band Ms. McIlwaine was pregnant, and played slide guitar. Mr. Cotton played harmonica. One of his players started to fan him with a towel, because he was hot.
Breakfast Special/ Doc and Merle Watson Breakfast Special was a local bluegrass crew, who did “The coming down song”. The Watsons did ” Deep River Blues” and “Thats All”, among other things. PG had a copy of their latest LP, and asked Merle to autograph it. He wrote his name on one side, turned it over, and signed Doc’s name on the other side.
Mason/Atlanta Rythym Section This show was the night Led Zeppelin played Atlanta Stadium.
New Riders of the Purple Sage When the Music Hall opened, a performer would typically play from Tuesday to Sunday. NRPS was a one night show. They worked well in the packed hall, and shined on “Glenville Train”. The next year, they did a tour with Commander Cody and The Lost Planet Airmen. Commander Cody opened, and raised hell. NRPS followed with a mellow rock show, and before long people were getting bored and leaving.
David Buskin / Loudon Wainwright III Chamblee 54 has written about this show before. Mr. Buskin talked about doing a show at Max’s Kansas City, the person sitting next to PG said “Gross”.
Steve Martin / Nitty Gritty Dirt Band Chamblee54 has written about the show by Mr. Martin . This was his last tour as an opening act. Nitty Gritty was a sight to behold. John McEuen played fiddle, and recited a poem about life.
Martin Mull / Melissa Manchester PG went to see Mr. Mull, who opened the show with a three piece band. (After the show, Mr. Mull said the name of the band was the (your name) (draws a blank with his fingers) orchestra.) The headliner was Ms. Manchester, little known at the time. She was a knockout. While standup comedy has it’s place, for emotional impact there is nothing like a singer.
Texas Gary Bennett / Weather Report Mr. Bennett played acoustic guitar, and sang, as an opener for a packed house of jazz rockers. It did not go well. At one point, trying to get some rapport with the crowd, he said ” has anyone here been busted at the Omni?” (The authorities had begun arresting people for smoking pot at the major concerts.)
Weather Report was amazing. Josef Zawinul had the loud keyboard sound, Wayne Shorter played his leads on soprano sax, and there was a drummer and percussion player. There was tons of rythym, to go with the electronic jazz sounds. When it was over, PG went up to Mr. Zawinul, shook his hand and, and said thank you. He was pouring a glass of beer from a pitcher, and looked a bit startled.
David Pomerance / Rahsaan Roland Kirk Chamblee54 has written about this show before. Mr. Kirk was a force of nature, the modern miracle of the tenor saxophone. He did not suffer from false modesty. This was the night Richard Nixon resigned, which pleased Mr. Kirk no end. The blind Rahsaan said that he did not want to see his audience, because we were too ugly. At one point, his band had been jamming for about ten minutes, when PG realized that Mr. Kirk had been holding a single note the entire time. The three saxophones at one time thing was a visual shocker, but he got sounds that way that you cannot get from a single instrument. At one point, Mr. Kirk pulled his sunglasses off, and made a face at the crowd. It was an amazing evening.
Chic Corea / Return to Forever This was a disappointment. Tickets were $4.50, which may be the most PG ever paid at the Music Hall. The band only played about an hour. It was all electric, ignoring the acoustic instruments set up on stage. RTF was a four piece, all star band. They had Chic Corea on keyboards, Stanley Clarke on bass, Al Demeola on guitar, and Lenny White on drums. That sounds like a great show, but it turned out to be four solo artists jamming. There was no cohesion, and the overall sound was less than the sum of the individual parts. Corea leaned over his keyboard, twisted knobs, and made faces, as if to say “look at how intense this is”. It wasn’t.
Mccoy Tyner The former Coltrane sideman played a very nice show. He had a percussion man, with several tables covered in exotic instruments. PG took a break after to first show to hang out at a neighborhood disco. When he got back, there was no doorman checking tickets, and anyone could walk in for free. PG took advantage of this discovery many times over the next few years.
Bill Crystal / Jean Luc Ponty Former Frank Zappa player Jean Luc Ponty played at the Music Hall, with a bass player who was a fellow Zappa alumni. The surprise of the evening was then-unknown Bill Crystal. A few weeks after this show, “Soap” would premiere, and make him a star. Mr. Crystal did a killer impersonation of a gila monster.
Between shows, Mr. Crystal had been entertained by a local musician. During the second show, he held his finger to his nose, made a snorting sound, and said thank you. PG heard this, and yelled “Locker Room”, the name of a “deooderizer” that some liked to get a buzz sniffing. Mr. Crystal said “Locker room. Jeez, I need to get the hecklers rosetta stone to know what he means”. Good times.
Keith Jarrett This is another show that might have been better than PG’s enjoyment. At one point early in the show, PG moved over to the front of the stage, to look at Mr. Jarrett’s hands. After the show, people told PG that the player had been giving him dirty looks when he did that. PG asked Mr. Jarrett about it, and he said that PG had interfered with his concentration.
This show featured a quartet, instead of a solo piano. The bass player was Charley Haden, who seemed a bit puffy faced. PG later learned that he had been addicted to heroin at the time.
Melissa Manchester Ms. Manchester came back for another week at the Music Hall, about a year after her first appearance. At one point, she asked the band if they were ready to do a new song, and then performed “I got eyes” for the first time in public. This was later the b side to “Midnight Blue”. One of the players in her band was a man named James Newton Howard. Part of the deal for touring with her was that he could play a solo number on piano, called “Newton’s Ego”. He later played with Elton John, and became wealthy writing film scores.
Flora Purim /Airto Moreira On PG’s 23rd birthday, Flora Purim played at the Music Hall. At the time, PG had a profound appreciation of her albums. The band had a nice sound, and was the equal of her records. The Chic Corea tune “Light as a Feather” was a standout. Her husband, Airto Moreira ( eye, ear, toe) fronted the band on some of the numbers, and had some funny routines. Ms. Purim held two microphones throughout the show, with one connected to some audio filters. PG found holding two microphones to be visually distracting. PG had known of the Jewish ancestry of Ms. Purim, but had not thought much about it. Then he saw her live, and realized that she does, indeed, look Jewish.
Hot Tuna Hot Tuna is a dependable, though not spectacular, band. On a previous show in Atlanta, they went on stage at 10:55, and played without a break until 2:50. This night, a fried of a friend was working at the Music Hall, and PG got in before the crowds, to get a prime spot, in the first row of benchbacks. At one point, PG was rocking back and forth against the benchback, and a neighbor asked him to quit. Those buckets of beer were influential.
Shakti This was an acoustic, Hindu oriented band fronted by guitar superman John McLaughlin. The numbers seemed to go on forever.
David Manion / Mark Almond This was a long awaited Atlanta performance by Mark Almond. (This is a jazz/blues band, totally different from the Soft Cell vocalist with a similar name.) They played two sets, which were only an hour or so long. This was disappointing to the people who could not wait for the second show. In the second show, they “took the shackles off” saxophone player Johnny Almond, and he played a wild solo during “The city”.
The incident we are about to describe may or may not have involved David Manion. What happened was, a small portable radio was playing on the edge of the stage. The spotlight was on the radio, which sounded like gibberish to most of the audience. Gradually, the chattering audience got quiet, and tried to listen to the radio. After a few minutes, a man came out, and stood in darkness behind the radio. The PA speaker announced “The new force of rock in Atlanta”. The man then dropped a large piece of granite on the radio, smashing it into bits.
Laurie Chapman / Stomu Yamashta Laurie Chapman was a singer/piano player, with some good stories. She told of a trucker, driving beside her and talking to her on a cb radio. ” You better get that drink out from between your legs before it gets too hot to handle”.
Stomu Yamashta is somewhat of a star in Japan. The show here was filmed for showing on TV there. His band, Go, was an all star collection, including Ava Cherry. She was a backup vocalist, and girlfriend, with David Bowie. After the show, PG was introduced to Spencer Davis in the lobby.
The next few shows were at Cherokee Plaza.
Martin Mull Mr. Mull was a solo star this time. He did a song about doing nothing, adding that dead people can do it too. The parking lot was packed, which was a major problem at the new location.
The week before the Super Bowl in 1994, Mr. Mull filmed a Comedy Central show in Woodruff Park. The Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders were kicking field goals. After the filming PG stood a few feet away from Mr. Mull, but could not think of anything to say.
Sun Ra PG went to a wedding, and a bunch of people from there went to see Sun Ra. This was an entertaining spectacle, with a big band and dancers. After the show, PG asked Sun Ra how he could afford to take a band like that on the road. He said he was doing it for beauty.
David Bromberg This was another big band production. PG showed within a few minutes of the gateman leaving his post, and saw about 45 minutes without buying a ticket.
Lester Flatt/John Hartford One boring Saturday night, PG walked up to the Music Hall, and saw the two fiddle players jamming. A few weeks later, Lester Flatt passed away. This is a repost. Pictures today are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Chamblee54 
leave a comment