Por Uhklelelas nailed it, and that’s the prettiest version of the song I ever heard. Unfortunately I can’t find a link to their website. On the other hand I can link to this:
Bill Tapia, aka,The Duke of the Uke, calls the chords. Huell Howser interviewed him.
Have a great weekend, folks. See you back here tomorrow whether you like it or not.
Jacob Cornelisz van Oostsanen, 1526.
Okay, so here’s the short story as I understand it.
The Prophet Samuel was dead. Saul, King of Israel and Judah, was kinda nervous, and he needed a strategy to combat the assembled armies of the Philistines, but dreams, prophets (and parts of a breastplate worn by the High Priest to communicate with God) left him with no answers.
The Philistines wanted tribute, i.e, a protection payoff, and King Saul was tired of it.
Saul couldn’t think for himself, so he did what anyone in his position would do: search for a witch who could talk to the dead. Since necromancers had been thrown out of the Kingdom by Saul’s own decree, he put on a disguise and eventually found one in the remote village of Endor.
The witch contacted the soul of Samuel. Samuel was pissed at Saul for bothering him and gave him a load of crap. Then he stated that Saul’s army would be defeated the next day, and that the King would die. Saul freaked out.
Being a compassionate witch, she tried to calm him and insisted that he stay for supper. She fixed him a cheeseburger or something, and Saul left for home.
The next day King Saul’s army was defeated, and Saul committed suicide to fulfill the prophesy, circa 1012 BC.
At least that’s what I got from Wiki. BTW, apparently necromancers were also talented ventriloquists, and they didn’t work for free. Go figure.
No idea how the painting fits in to all of this, but there you go.
[Found here.]
In 1893, the average beer consumption [in Cincinnati] was 40 gallons for every man, woman and child – 2-1/2 times the national average. [From Cincinnati’s Rise and Fall as a Brewery Town.]
“Little Kings Cream Ale” is sold in 8-packs of little green 7-ounce bottles across the nation. It was the result of a request by Ted Gregory (aka “The Ribs King“) to the Schoenling Brewery Co. when the beer taps went down and his customers didn’t want to pay for 12-ounce beers to go with their shots of whiskey. TRUE
Fun Facts to Know And Tell Department:
[Via the US Postal Service Website]: The following live, day–old animals are acceptable for mailing when properly packaged: chickens, ducks, emus, geese, guinea birds, partridges, pheasants (only during April through August), quail, and turkeys. Day–old poultry can be delivered to the addressee within 72 hours of the time of hatching, except for Sundays and Holidays. Also included in the list are Baby Alligators, Baby Caimans, Chameleons, Frogs, Lizards, Newts, Reptiles and Amphibians, Salamanders, Tadpoles and Toads, and Giant Bone-Crushing Weasels. (Okay, I added the last one.)
[h/t Mrs. N. Mr. N. opined that the chicken chicks are being used as drug mules.]
Giant Bone-Crushing Weasels are estimated to have been about the size of a Jaguar.
Life at the Boeing Field Apartments reminds me of these classics:
“Gary: Landlord of the Flies.“
Goodman was also the author of The Best Train Song Ever and it saved Arlo Guthrie’s career.
[About the Title: My high-school geometry teacher could speak backwards, phonetically, and that’s how he pronounced “Golden Hudepohl Beer.”]
Hambone was an early precurser to diddley-bow and Rap. Here’s a demonstration featuring John Holeman & Dom Flemons found here. Related posts here.
BTW, that’s “Poke Salat,” not “Polk Salad,” and everyone who heard that song thought Tony Joe White was a black cajun guy.
That’s classic D. L. Menard. Might as well keep rolling with the theme.
Like this.
Have a great weekend, folks. See you back here tomorrow with more victimization and undeserved personal grievances. =D
Tacky Raccoons 