Richards
A comment at a recent post mentioned “Jenning’s Rose Room, a classic poor white juke and dance hall … where Trader Joes now sits.” PG had been in that building when it was called Richards. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
There is no telling what the original use of the building at 931 Monroe Drive was. It was across the street from Grady Stadium, and adjacent to Piedmont Park. The railroad tracks that became the beltline ran behind it. The parking lot was primitive, with a marquee sign built at some point. (PG drove by that sign several nights and saw that Lynyrd Skynyrd was playing.)
There was another nightclub building on the hill behind JRR. One night, PG went to see a jazz band there, accompanied by someone who lived in a nearby house. After seeing the band, PG was led to a horse stable behind the bar. The horses were not well maintained … you could see the ribs sticking out. There is a story of a goat getting loose from the stable, and being chased out of the jazz bar during happy hour.
Jennings Rose Room was before PG’s time. There is a story that some men had lunch there, and made a bet. The idea was to hit a golf ball from the JRR parking lot, and putt it into a hole at Piedmont Park. A biscuit was used as a tee. The first shot went across the street, onto the field at the stadium. Eventually, the ball was hit across Tenth Street, onto a green, and into the cup.
At some point, Jennings Rose Room closed. A gay club called Chuck’s Rathskeller was opened in that location. A rock and roll club or two did business there. Then Richards opened.
The first time PG was in the house was after a Johnny Winter concert at the Fox. There were rumors of visiting musicians dropping by Richards to play after their shows. Mr. Winter was only onstage for a couple of minutes after PG got there.
The most memorable trip to Richards was during the summer of 1973. The headliner was Rory Gallagher, who was ok but not spectacular. The opening act was Sopwith Camel, one of the forgotten bands of the seventies. They performed a novelty hit, “Hello Hello”. Someone in the audience liked it, and paid them to do it again. The band wound up doing “Hello Hello” five times, and said that was the most money they made in a long time.
Average White Band was making the rounds that fall, and had a show at Richards. A lot of the audience was black, and they hit the dance floor in unison when “Pick up the Pieces” was played. Fellow Scotsman Alex Harvey was in town, and joined AWB to sing “I heard it through the grapevine”.
Muddy Waters played at Richards one night. The band did most of the playing, with Mr. Waters tossing in a few licks on bottleneck guitar. He might have sang a couple of times.
About this time, Iggy Pop played a few shows at Richards. One night, someone snuck up on him, and gave him a hug. It was Elton John, wearing a gorilla suit.
PG saw three more shows (that he can remember) at Richards. Richie Havens was worth the two dollar admission. Soft Machine played in the winter of 1974. Larry Coryell played a show that summer, with the Mike Greene Band opening. PG got to talk to Mike Greene that night. The National Association of Recording Arts and Sciences (who do the Grammy Awards) had a President named C. Michael Greene at one time. PG thinks this is the person he talked to that night.
Two friends of PG went, as their first date, to see Spirit at Richards. They were married a few years later. Towards the end of 1974, Richards was running out of steam. They advertised a New Years Eve show starring B.B. King, and sold high priced tickets. When the crowd showed up for the show, they found the doors locked. Richards had closed.
The next tenant for 931 Monroe Drive was going to be Cabaret After Dark, a gay club. There was a fire the night before the grand opening. The building was never used again. Eventually, a shopping center was built on the site.
UPDATE: Here is an article, from the Great Speckled Bird, about Richards. This is a repost.
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest 2015 Part Two
Here is part two of the chamblee54 coverage of the 2015 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Number two might be more appropriate. Part one went up a few days ago. The explanation of what BLFC can be found at all three of those links. Pictures for this appalling waste of bandwidth are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Claire had more daddy issues than Boy’s Life magazine published in the late 1970s, but she was a perfect match for Donald, whose personality was vaguely sticky, like the outside of a squeezable honey container or anything handled by a three-year-old. — James Pokines, Boston, MA
Wilbur’s passionate kisses sent a warm shiver down Eugenia’s tender spine and made the coarse hair on her knuckles erect. — David Pepper, Torrance, CA
This is a story about love, but not just any kind of love like how you love the feeling of trading in a pair of soggy, old socks for fresh ones, or the taste of salty French fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake, I’m talking about the other kind of love. — Anna Sagstetter, Fort Wayne, IN
It was debatable what Felicity enjoyed most about the night – the delicious dinner, the marvelous movie, or the satisfying sex – but one thing was clear and that was that she hoped she wouldn’t be doing it alone again next time. — Randy Blanton, Murfreesboro, TN
Camilla was a strong, confident woman who ran a Fortune 500 company and made her own yogurt, but what she really longed for was a control-freak guy who would tap her phone, lock her in her room, and force her to listen to Gilbert Gottfried singing the national anthem.
Laura Ruth Loomis, Pittsburg, CA
Having eaten her fill of the town’s fils et filles, the French witch inspected her candy-encrusted house and decided she needed a grander lure to attract grander prey–perhaps she should build a homme depot. — Scott Britton, Boston, MA
Old Man Dracula forgot to put his teeth in one night, and so had to come home hungry, with a sort of “nothing dentured, nothing veined” look on his face.— Matthew Pfeifer Beaman IA
Spurs a-jangling, Black Bert sauntered to the bar and cried “this town ain’t big enough!”—then gulped a whisky, fingered his six-shooter, and belched—”so I say we annex Dry Gulch, thus increasing our tax base while simultaneously reducing fixed costs through economies of scale.”
Joel Phillips, West Trenton, NJ
“Pecos Mac” McCarthy index-fingered back the brim of his battered Stetson, squatted at the edge of the waterhole, cupped a handful of brackish water, squinted out over the shimmering alkali flats of the Badlands, and decided then and there that he had prit’ near had it with overwrought, hackneyed western imagery. — Joseph Pramuk, Napa, CA
Barnaby asked the counter girl for a pastrami sandwich on rye with heartbreak, onions, and ennui on it, wrapped to go in the soul of a sheep, to which she turned wearily and yelled, “Another number six!”— Jeff Coleburn, West Chester, PA
Stephanie did not intend to become an animal coroner when she went to veterinary school, but the workload was manageable and, for cats, she usually just had to check the “curiosity” box under “cause of death.”— Doug Purdy, Roseville, CA
Carlos stared in lust and amazement as she walked away, her spandex-covered body giving the impression of two well-oiled sumo wrestlers on stilts furiously going for the win.
Marlin Back, Columbus, IN
The Phylognites made love by intertwining their eyeball stalks, a most erotic sensation except occasionally when, due to inexperience or excessive ardor, their stalks became inextricably bound in what (unbeknownst to them) a species of obnoxious, quarrelsome little bipeds on an obscure planet circling a small star in the Milky Way might call a “bird’s nest.” — Wayne Carmichael, Tyler, TX
“You’re a dead man, O’ Flanagan,” said the mortuary supervisor to the corpse laid out before him, chuckling to himself at how comical that remark was, a sentiment not shared with the rest of the night shift who all secretly yearned for the day he retired, having heard the same joke on innumerable occasions with just the surname of the deceased changed. — Ted Downes, Cardiff, U.K.
Was Mae West A Real Girl?
Today would be birthday 122 for Mary Jane “Mae” West. Of course, she died in 1980, so the party is off. PG saw a note on facebook, and made the comment “She was rumored to be a man.” One right click google search later, this post started to take shape.
There is a blogspot site, maewest.blogspot.com. It is still published, with a birthday post today. Five years ago there was a post, Mae West: Penis Rumors. It seems as though Miss West liked to say, to the press, “When I die, you are going to be very surprised!”
A hollywood gossipmonger had a story, Was Mae West…A Man?! Much of her information comes from the tasteful findadeath site. The story here is that Mae West died in 1950, and the death was kept quiet. Her brother made appearances in her place, until the final death in 1980. This would have been quite a feat, considering that John Edwin West died in 1964. That doesn’t stop people from talking.
“…the real Mae West died somewhere around 1950, give or take a couple years, and rather than let the show stop, it was announced that not Mae, but her brother, died. Of course, the brother then became Mae West and carried on until November 1980. If you look carefully at photos from around 1950 on it definitely looks like a different person not to mention the big hands and masculine features, bone structure, etc. I may not have all the details 100% correct but I would almost put money on the fact that the ‘Mae West’ ‘who died in 1980 had a weenie!!”
The hands were mentioned by Raquel Welch. The two were in Myra Breckinridge, the first movie Miss West had made in 27 years. (Miss West appeared on Mr. Ed in 1964.) Miss Welch appeared at a film festival in 2012, and had stories to tell.
“When I went over to say hello to her (one day) I said, ‘Hi, it’s Raquel, remember?’ She sort of extended her hand to me and I went to kiss the ring and one false fingernail painted silver fell to the floor. I looked at the hand and I thought, ‘Oh, I’m getting a vibe.’ I really think she’s a man! At this point in her life all bets are off and you’re not going to be able to doll it up that much. I would say it’s pretty accurate that she resembled a dock worker in drag.” …
“I had this beautiful dress and it was black with a big white ruffle around the neck and a black velvet hat … Apparently Mae got wind of the fact that I was wearing this exquisite dress and I went to the studio that day for our scene together. I got coiffed, got my hair done and went to the closet to get the dress and it wasn’t there. I asked my dresser what happened to the dress and she said, ‘It’s been confiscated. Mae does not want you to wear that dress. You can wear the red dress that you wore in the last scene!’ … Welch was so outraged that she stormed off the set and refused to return until the dress was back in her closet. … “For the scene, we never appeared in a two-shot together. She left after she did her lines and I had someone off-camera reading her lines and I had to pretend she was there.”
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Keyboard Cretins
I talked to a physical therapist once who likes travel shows. If you are in a place of healing, you should not be subjected to stressful media product. ~ I am so happy to live in district 81. ~ Maybe it is the ability to find something later. ~ at 332 am, chamblee54 had one visitor since one am… someone in Canada viewed “Does Mitt Romney wear a wig?” ~ Prager University is not an accredited academic institution and does not offer certifications or diplomas. But it is a place where you are free to learn. ~ While you are at Prager University be sure to see “What They Haven’t Told You about Climate Change” and “The Iran Nuclear Deal” Those guys give free speech a bad name ~ Do you think I should put “arguing with racists, transantagonists, and misogynists on Facebook” as a line on my resume? ~ @JoyceCarolOates “More than one way to skin a cat”– deeply offensive to all cats, as both micro-aggression (as speech) & hate-crime-threat (as action). ~ Prager University, aka PU, is an ultraconservative joke. They might have some good points in this video, but those points can be found elsewhere. This is an example of a broken clock being correct twice a day. For a better example of the PU way of thinking, check out their videos on climate change, or the Iran treaty. ~ @nihilist_arbys Line up to die, lugubrious, as the masters herd you towards the killing floor. As go the cows, so go men. There is no God here. Only Arbys. ~ Maybe it is more accurate to say that Mr. Trump is winning his grip on reality. ~ VergeLeNoir @VergeLeNoir Elena Ferrante Explains Why She Publishes Anonymously: “Books Once They Are Written, Have No Need of Their Authors” KimKierkegaardashian @KimKierkegaard I feel the same about tweets. ~ This is going to be a long, painful election ~ Where are the videos of white sports fans interrupting a presidential candidate? ~ IT’S HAMMER TIME! / RUDE DUDE ~ hot weather and duration paint ~ @otherppl I want someone to write an essay/review comparing/contrasting my interview w/ @tao_lin & @miragonz and the Bookworm interview w Tao & Mira ~ @SlavojTweezek “For God so loved the Germans, that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in this should not perish but have eternal schadenfreude.” ~ The Blasphemy of Bibleolatry ~ Caitlyn Jenner Is A Dumb Cunt ~ B.E.E. – Sean Baker – 8/10/15 ~ Black Lives Matter Seattle Protestor Is A Former Tea Party Palin Supporter ~ Do We Alienate Our White Brothers and Sisters? ~ “Which twin has the Toni?” ~ Disgusted By Amusement ~ “Caitlyn Jenner Donates Testicles To Cowardly Obama,” ~ Caitlin Upton ~ Why Black People Don’t Like White Liberals ~ Selected Tweets ~ The 199 Most Donald Trump Things Donald Trump Has Ever Said ~ @sam_kriss #AlternativeNamesForWriters wordbags, keyboard cretins, paragraph barfers, that balding idiot who can’t afford a proper car, dictadullards ~ @sam_kriss #AlternativeNamesForWriters i’m not even going to make a joke here. i hate writers. they just make up things that aren’t real. get a job ~ we look down on them for not knowing how to douche it 1:02:18 ~ @popgoesalicia ~ @awkwardpodcast @ 1:02:18 you say “we look down on them for not knowing how to douche it ” the show is fun to listen to overall ~ @DeadCelebLaugh If you’re not laughing along, then we’re not happy! ~ @nihilist_arbys Arbys for lunch Arbys for dinner In this fetid hellscape There are no winners Arbys tomorrow Arbys today Nothing’s certain But death & decay ~ telling someone that they are the problem is not the solution ~ @WernerTwertzog One is not born German, One becomes German through decades of self-recrimination and despair.Also beer. ~ If you vote in Georgia, you don’t have a choice. The electoral votes will almost certainly go for the Republican. ~ pictures from The Library of Congress. ~ selah
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest 2015
It is August. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day Elvis allegedly died, and the day Madonna was allegedly born. But that is tomorrow. Today is part one of the annual chamblee54 celebration of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. This is a celebration of bad writing, coordinated through the English department at San Jose State University, San Jose, CA 95192-0090.
BLFC is named for Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, a 19th century perpetrator of bad fiction. Mr. Bulwer-Lytton is blamed for starting a novel with the phrase “It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents.” As an added bonus, there is a quiz, Dickens or Bulwer? People with too much free time can read a quote, and choose to blame it on either Mr. Bulwer-Lytton or Charles Dickens.
Here are the funny names for 2015. No winners will be chosen. They are presented in the order in which they appeared in the BLFC post. Laura Ruth Loomis, Pittsburg, CA, gets special notice for being having two entries in the swinging 74. The 11 funny names: David Laatsch, Baton Rouge, LA, Myriam Nys, Mechelen, Belgium, Hwei Oh, Sydney, Australia, Rahul Kak, Ann Arbor, MI, Yap Tee Giut, Ipoh, Perak, Malaysia, Austin Stollhaus, Louisville, KY, James Pokines, Boston, MA, Kathy Minicozzi, Bronx, NYC, Anna Sagstetter, Fort Wayne, IN, Laura Ruth Loomis, Pittsburg, CA, Joseph Pramuk, Napa, CA, Susie Gawriluk, Presque Isle, WI, Clark Snodgrass, Huntington Beach, CA.
One of the value added features of this report is the list of funny names. Many of the contestants have names that make you wonder what their parents were thinking. Surprisingly, many of these odd names produced really bad prose. One of the chamblee54 value added services is to read all 74 entries (4137 words) in the 2015 “winners.” Out of all that punctuation, 26 entries, and a list of names, were chosen. Here is the first installment of the chosen entries. The first one recieves special notice for using the name Caitlin, and spelling it the same way as Miss Teenage South Carolina. The other Caitlyn receives enough publicity. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Caitlin was a Pop Tart kind of girl, but Kyle always ate four Aunt Jemima pancakes with Land o’ Lakes unsalted butter and Mrs. Butterworth’s maple syrup, so they knew they would never marry because of their differences, but they could still fool around. — Kathy Minicozzi, Bronx, NYC
After weeks at sea, Captain Fetherstonhaugh and his hardy crew had at last crossed the halfway point, and he mused that the closest dry land now lay in the Americas, assuming of course that it was not raining there. — David Laatsch, Baton Rouge, LA
Walking through the northernmost souk of Marrakech, that storied and cosmopolitan city so beloved of voyagers wishing to shake the desert dust off their feet, Peter bought a French-language newspaper and realized, with dizzying dismay, that “Camille” can be a man’s name.
Myriam Nys, Mechelen, Belgium
The doctors all agreed the inside of Charlie’s intestinal tract looked like some dark, dank subway system in a decaying inner city, blackened polyps hanging from every corner like tiny ticking terrorist time bombs, waiting to burst forth in cancerous activity; however, to Timmy the Tapeworm this was home. — E. David Moulton, Summerville, SC
Shortly after that interfering do-gooder Snow White had introduced Sneezy to non-drowsy antihistamines, he had to change his name to Brian, where he then left the mines with Ray (formerly Sleepy) who was now a caffeine addict and Bob (formerly Grumpy) who was on 100 milligrams of Prozac a day, and Doc whom Snow pointed out had never actually graduated from medical school and was being sued for malpractice–oh how he despised that high and mighty ho.
Hwei Oh, Sydney, Australia
As Granny sewed the bloody wolf pelt onto the stained red cape, Little Red downed another shot, reminding herself that even alcohol has a better taste than the gastric acid of a wolf.
Rahul Kak, Ann Arbor, MI
When the corpse showed up in the swimming pool, her dead bosoms bobbing up and down like twin poached eggs in hollandaise sauce, Randy decided to call the police as soon as he finished taking pictures of his breakfast and posting them to his Facebook wall. — Laura Ruth Loomis, Pittsburg, CA
When private detective Flip Merlot spotted the statuesque brunette seated at the bar of his favorite watering hole, he was drawn to her like a yellow cat to navy blue pants, and when he sidled up next to her he felt fuzzy all over, kind of like dark blue corduroys get when they’re matted with yellow cat hair.
James M. Vanes, La Porte, IN
With his lamp giving off a dull yellow glow General Washington sat up late into the night contemplating his problems: Not enough food, not enough clothing, not enough men, and that idiot Private Doodle who kept putting feathers in his cap and calling it macaroni.
Dan Leyde, Shoreline, WA
If Vicky Walters had known that ordering an extra shot of espresso in her grande non-fat sugar free one pump raspberry syrup two pumps vanilla syrup soy latte that Wednesday would lead to her death and subsequent rebirth as a vampire, she probably would have at least gotten whipped cream.
Margo Coffman, Corinth MS
He typed like a ninja with no arms, and the text flowed like a drop of blood down a katana blade sharpened with one of those automatic kitchen things you can buy on late-night television when you’re drunk but not too drunk to read off your 16-digit credit card number and security code.
Alex Dering, Brooklyn, NY
I never did see the last thing I saw, the truck and the red light, the last thing I saw was a plus-size girl in a petite ensemble, giving her the appearance of a marshmallow tightly wrapped in dental floss.
Ted Wise, Hanover, PA
Religion And Perfume
Religion and perfume have several things in common. They are both fun to smell, but dangerous to swallow. A tasteful drop behind the ear is pleasant. Too much, and you will run from the room gasping for breath. Both are cheap products, sold in a fancy bottle, at a steep markup.
Before easy access to water, people did not bathe every day. To cover up the aroma of human existence, many used fragrances. This too is similar to the function of religion.
Perfume has been considered a feminine product. In a clever marketing move, a masculine scent was called cologne, and sold to men. Religion is gross to many people, so it is sold as faith.
Smell is a driving force in animal behavior. Ants used smell to communicate, and perform feats in numbers which would be impossible as individuals. Smells go directly to the brain, without filtering and processing like sounds, sights, and tastes. Religion is the emotional equivalent of odors. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
Two Podcasts On Selected Tweets
PG likes to listen to things while working on pictures. Last night, the entertainment included an episode of Bookworm. This is a public radio show, hosted by agreeable fuddy duddy Michael Silverblatt. The show has run for years, and has accumulated an enviable archive. The current show features Mira Gonzalez and Tao Lin, talking about a book they produced, Selected Tweets. It is what it says it is, a collection of twitter product, without all the >140 character paraphernalia about favorites and retweets. Here is a brief sample.
The girl I babysit is telling me about her friend Emma who is 55, has blue hair and owns a dragon farm. She has one tentacle and one real arm. ~ This car drives like the baby I aborted. ~ Saw a guy sucking his own dick on Chat Roulette. ~ I wanna tweet something I’m gonna regret in the morning. ~ I’ve created a mess. There is paint everywhere, cupcakes are in the oven and I’m teaching myself chinese embroidery. ~ Generously applying chapstick to my nostrils.
Miss Gonzalez and Mr. Lin, who apparently are not a romantic couple, say strange things about themselves. They both admit to lots of drug use. Someone published a book about people who might be dead before forty. Miss Gonzalez said that might be her, and it might not be a bad thing if she were to die before forty. This is one thing many people change their mind about.
PG was working on Grievance Indication Industry while listening to the show. There were a lot of interruptions, and a few times when PG did not pay close attention. Mr. Silverblatt was good natured about the shenanigans of Miss Gonzalez and Mr. Lin. After you interview David Foster Wallace, it is all downhill. Mr. Silverblatt does not list a twitter handle on the Bookworm site, and may not be familiar with the >140 character lifestyle.
There was a tweet later. @otherppl “I want someone to write an essay/review comparing/contrasting my interview w/ @tao_lin & @miragonz and the Bookworm interview w Tao & Mira.” You are reading the result. PG will not listen to Bookworm a second time.
The host of otherppl, Brad Listi, is hipper than Mr. Silverblatt. Mr. Listi asks Miss Gonzalez and Mr. Lin if they are sober… Mr. Lin took a hit of weed in the car. Miss Gonzalez doesn’t like to get high during the day, or maybe that is during this day. Tomorrow is another day, as Margaret Mitchell observed. (Sunday, August 16, is the anniversary of the death of Margaret Mitchell. It is also the anniversary of Elvis Presley’s last trip to the bathroom. August 16 is the birthday of Madonna. That does not seem like a fair trade.)
Miss Gonzalez has quite the internet presence. She posts revealing pictures of herself, and then is offended when male strangers send her dick pics. Later she says that Jonathan Franzen famously hates twitter, but probably has a secret account. Miss Gonzalez says that she would like to get a dick pic from Jonathan Franzen, who is not Jewish.
There is a one star review at amazon. About as Good as Excrement on Paper for $16.10 At this point I think if I put excrement on paper in the shape of the letters that create “Worthless Dribble” (which would be quite the feat, more so than Lin’s attempt at prose) I could get it published by whoever it is that keeps promoting trash literature such as this, and anything else these two have ever done.
Mr. Lin became notorious a while back. He was in a relationship with a young girl. The couple went out stealing batteries together. After breaking up with Mr. Lin, the young girl became a young man. They is the preferred pronoun.
Some stories got out about this in the tabloid internet. The notoriety cost Mr. Lin considerable peace of mind. There is a statement, from Mr. Lin, at the otherppl site. It has links to all the sensational stories, and tells his side of the story. The tabloid internet moved on to other click bait. This unpleasantness was not mentioned by Mr. Silverblatt, while Mr. Listi did broach the subject.
@mirage (spell check suggestion:mirage) has a lively twitter account. Here are some recent entries. “i need a breakfast sandwich and a quick painless death ~ i used to smoke actual crack and feel fine the next day but now if i drink 2 glasses of wine i wake up all headache-y and complain-y ~ every time something good happens to me i’m just like ‘i hope this makes my ex upset’ then i go back to hating myself ~ i dyed my hair the same color as my bong ~ its really confusing for me to try to make a family tree because i come from a long line of extremely slutty people ~ young, wild and heavily medicated ~ straight outta reasons to stay alive ~ ‘my daily life is probably about as painful as that’ is something i thought while watching a person burn alive in game of thrones.”
Brad Listi paid Miss Gonzalez, and Mr. Lin, a sincere compliment. He left a copy of the book on the commode in the studio bathroom. A collection of tweets would seem to be a good compliment for bowel movements. There is none of the messy complications of a whodunit, nor the bodice ripping drama of romance novel heartbreak. It was noted in both shows that tweets, with the 140 character limit, is structurally similar to haiku. The evolution of social media zuckerbergs on to its lmao limit.
Coat Of Many Colors
This feature was originally posted in 2012. At the time where Mr. Romney was taken seriously. Out of kindness to the readers, that part has been left out today. The pictures, from The Library of Congress, are 3 years older. Dolly Parton is 3 years younger.
When PG saw this, he thought about the song, “Coat of many colors”. The b side was by Porter Wagoner, “Coat of many sequins”. COMC is about a woman who is too poor to buy her little girl a coat at the store, so she makes a quilt. The other kids make fun of her, but little Dolly knows that the coat is really made of love. Mitt Romney never had a coat of many colors.
The song talks about a story in the Bible. PG had heard about the story, but didn’t remember the details. He must have been daydreaming in Sunday School when that story was taught. With the help of google, Genesis 37 appears, as if by magic. Pass the popcorn.
2 These are the generations of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was feeding the flock with his brethren; and the lad was with the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his father’s wives: and Joseph brought unto his father their evil report.
3 Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours.
4 And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him.
Ok, hold on for a minute. Israel had at least two wives. The Biblical definition of marriage must be between a man and two women.
The story gets a bit weird here. Joseph has this dream, where he becomes the boss hog brother. The other brothers decide something needs to be done, that Joseph needs to die. Reuben tries to help Joseph, and has a plan to save him. Joseph is stripped of the coat of many colors, and placed in a pit, with no water. Before Reuben can sneak Joseph out of the pit, a camel caravan comes by. Twenty pieces of silver change hands, and Joseph is sold into slavery. The brothers decide to pull a cover up, and make it look like Joseph was dead. Reuben made another sandwich.
31 And they took Joseph’s coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood;
32 And they sent the coat of many colours, and they brought it to their father; and said, This have we found: know now whether it be thy son’s coat or no.
33 And he knew it, and said, It is my son’s coat; an evil beast hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.
34 And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days.
35 And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted; and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning. Thus his father wept for him.
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