Next we dive into the book of Esther.
The book opens in the court of Ahasuerus, the king of Shushan (say Shushan three times fast…I dare ya’). Ahasuerus decides to have a feast. And the entertainment for this feast will be him showing off his wife, Vashti. So everybody’s sitting around eating and he calls his wife. “Vashti! Git yo ass in here and show everybody how hot you are!” Then he turns to the guys around him and says “y’all won’t believe the ass on this woman. Three kids and still built like a brick house!” Vashti had been studying the latest in feminist literature and wasn’t down with being just a piece of ass. “Hell to the no!” she responded. All the guys at the feast look around at each other uncomfortably. Then one guy says “You know, if my wife hears about this, she’s going to think she has a brain in her head, too. I really don’t want her realizing that she does.”
The king says “good point” and has Vashti killed. As you do when your wife backtalks. But then he’s left in a conundrum. He has no wife. “Hmmm…I need one of those…” he contemplates to himself. So he has all the women in his kingdom paraded in front of him in the ultimate speed dating session. He finds a girl named Esther. He decides she’ll do. What Esther doesn’t tell him is that she’s Jewish and being raised by her cousin, Mordechai (Morty). The king marries her. Then not long after, Morty discovers a plot to kill the king. He reveals it and the plotters are executed and Morty’s service to the king is recorded in the big books where things like that are recorded.
Morty appoints himself to sit at the palace gates for some reason. The Wal-Mart greeter of Shushan, I guess. Haman, the new prime minister, doesn’t like Morty because Morty won’t bow to him when he comes in. Somehow, Haman founds out that Morty is Jewish. He decides since Morty won’t bow to him, he’ll do the only logical thing. He’ll kill every single Jewish person in the entire kingdom, Morty included. Sounds logical. He goes to the king and asks “Are you cool with me killing all the Jews?” The king responds “sure, they weren’t doing much anyway. When do you want to do it?” They throw a dart at the calendar and decide to do it on the 13th of Adar (a Jewy month – the Roman’s hadn’t made up their own months yet).
Morty finds out that all the Jews are to be killed. He responds the only way anybody would – by ordering fasting and prayer. Not running and screaming like the wussies now would do. No. Fasting and prayer. Esther finds out about the plans and asks all the Jews to join her in three days of prayer. On the third day, she asks the king to have a feast with her and Haman. During that feast they make plans to have another feast the next day. Why they couldn’t get everything out in the open at the first feast is beyond me. In the mean time, Haman builds the gallows for Morty.
That night. The king can’t sleep. He does what anybody would do when they couldn’t sleep – he asks that his people read him boring government documents to put him out. Like reading tax code or something. Reeeeeeaaaaallllllyyyyyyyyyy boring. It just so happens that his people decide to read him the book where it was recorded that Morty foiled the plot against him. The king realizes he owes Morty his life! And he asked not to be recognized for it because it’s all in a day’s work for a responsible citizen.
Just then, Haman walks in. The king asks him what he should do to honor a great man. Haman believes the king is asking what Haman himself wants. So he says “well…if it were ME you were honoring and it was ME that would get this, I would want to be dressed up in your royal robes and paraded around on that badassed horse you’ve got.” The king responds “Good. Then dress Morty up in my robes and parade him around on my horse. He’s a good guy and should be honored.”
Later that evening, the king, Esther and Haman had the second banquet. Esther revealed to everybody that she was a Jew. The king left the room in a rage – as you do when you find out your wife is secretly Jewish and slated for extermination the next day. After all the trouble he went to in picking her out…now he’ll have to have all the women paraded again…it’s exhausting. Haman, realizing things don’t look good for him, begs Esther for his life. The king walks back in and catches the scene at all the wrong angle. To him, it looks like his (newly Jewish) wife is being raped by Haman. He gets even madder and orders Haman to be hanged in the gallows Haman himself had built for Morty.
Now the problem is, because they’d already chosen the date to kill all the Jews, the king couldn’t go back on his word. He’d throw a dart at a calendar! What was there to do? So he decreed that the Jews were allowed to fight back, rather than just passively be slaughtered. As a result, on the 13th of Adar, 500 attackers who were out for a good ethnic cleansing were killed, including Haman’s ten sons. 75,000 other attackers are killed outside the city. And another 300 people are killed the following day.
Morty becomes prominent in the king’s court and institutes an annual celebration of the delivery of the Jews from annihilation (this time) called purim.
Friday, October 31, 2008
From the desk of Liesl St. James
Dearest readers,
I am most apologetic for not returning to our biblical adventures sooner. I had to take a lengthy vacay! I went on a tour of creationist museums and biblical theme parks, largely in the southern part of the US. But now that I’ve returned, I hope you will enjoy our next biblical adventure. We had left off at the beginning of the book of Chronicles. We’re going to skip Chronicles because it just rehashes the previous couple books in a more positive light.
Our next book is the book of Ezra. Ezra is a small book that is easily summarized.
Cyrus, feeling all the warm and fuzzies of God in his heart, decides to let the Israelites rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem which was destroyed back in Joshua when he yelled really loud. So they set to work doing just that. And he gives them back some golden urns or something like that which had been previously stolen. Some captives that were in Babylon are returned to Palestine – total number? 42,360 plus 7,337 servants and a 200 person choir. Because you’ve got to have some singing whilst you work. You’ll note that today…about two thousand years later, this temple in Jerusalem is STILL under debate and contention. You want to start a fight in a bar in Israel? Turn to the guy on the next stool and say “So…about that temple…” and you’ll get punched.
Anyway, the book of Ezra chronicles the building of the temple. First the alter is built, then the foundation for the temple is laid and there is great rejoicing. Then there is a contract dispute and some really big guy in flannel named Bo says that he’ll be done in a week or two and 3 months later, you still can’t use your oven. You know how construction projects go. Only instead of Bo it was the Samaritans and instead of 3 months it was more like 3 years.
It’s a pretty boring and worthless book. Oh, they find out that all the forty thousand people who came back weren’t really married to their wives so those guys had to make offerings to make all their married sinfulness ok with God.
While we’re here, we’ll quickly cover the next book – Nehemiah. The walls of Jerusalem are rebuilt because they fell down previously when some guy yelled at them. And then they list off the census of the adult males (chicks don’t count). There, that covers Nehemiah, too.
Next book is Esther. It involves a beauty pageant and beheadings. So I PROMISE things are going to get more interesting.
I am most apologetic for not returning to our biblical adventures sooner. I had to take a lengthy vacay! I went on a tour of creationist museums and biblical theme parks, largely in the southern part of the US. But now that I’ve returned, I hope you will enjoy our next biblical adventure. We had left off at the beginning of the book of Chronicles. We’re going to skip Chronicles because it just rehashes the previous couple books in a more positive light.
Our next book is the book of Ezra. Ezra is a small book that is easily summarized.
Cyrus, feeling all the warm and fuzzies of God in his heart, decides to let the Israelites rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem which was destroyed back in Joshua when he yelled really loud. So they set to work doing just that. And he gives them back some golden urns or something like that which had been previously stolen. Some captives that were in Babylon are returned to Palestine – total number? 42,360 plus 7,337 servants and a 200 person choir. Because you’ve got to have some singing whilst you work. You’ll note that today…about two thousand years later, this temple in Jerusalem is STILL under debate and contention. You want to start a fight in a bar in Israel? Turn to the guy on the next stool and say “So…about that temple…” and you’ll get punched.
Anyway, the book of Ezra chronicles the building of the temple. First the alter is built, then the foundation for the temple is laid and there is great rejoicing. Then there is a contract dispute and some really big guy in flannel named Bo says that he’ll be done in a week or two and 3 months later, you still can’t use your oven. You know how construction projects go. Only instead of Bo it was the Samaritans and instead of 3 months it was more like 3 years.
It’s a pretty boring and worthless book. Oh, they find out that all the forty thousand people who came back weren’t really married to their wives so those guys had to make offerings to make all their married sinfulness ok with God.
While we’re here, we’ll quickly cover the next book – Nehemiah. The walls of Jerusalem are rebuilt because they fell down previously when some guy yelled at them. And then they list off the census of the adult males (chicks don’t count). There, that covers Nehemiah, too.
Next book is Esther. It involves a beauty pageant and beheadings. So I PROMISE things are going to get more interesting.
From the desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
In the past two weeks, both of my parents have been diagnosed with a terminal illness – Mom with cancer that has spread to her lungs and brain, Dad with kidney failure. Neither of them are expected to live longer than 6 months. I have a younger sister who is mentally challenged – my parents have taken care of her for her entire life. After their passing, I’m expected to take care of her. However my husband is abusive and I’m currently pregnant with conjoined twins that will require years of surgery. We both recently lost our jobs. I just don’t know how to deal with these trying times. Any advice?
Crashing Down Around Me
Dear Crashing,
Oh, my God. Oh. God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Reader – I’m sure your problem is very important to me but today, I’m too distracted to give out advice. My suggestion – put some ointment on it or something. I can’t go into more detail than that – I’m too happily distracted. Readers, you know I don’t normally like to bring my personal life into my columns. But today I can’t resist. My daughter, Frannie, is going on a second date with Sol Gruierstein. You might remember him – he’s Sylvia’s son – the divorce attorney who handles all the nasty splits from those uppity Manhattan types. Well, I put them together on Sylvia’s loveseat during the break the fast party. They hit it off like nobody’s business. That was Thursday. Well, wouldn’t you know when our doorbell rang on Friday night, it was him. I answered it, expecting to find one of Frannie’s other boy things. You know – some sort of biker or tattoo artist or Methodist. Something that just makes a mother’s heart weep. Anyway, I open the door and who is there? Sol! I was thinking “did I leave my casserole dish over at Sylvia’s? Probably not – she’d just keep it, the thieving witch.” Then he asked for Frannie. Wouldn’t you know that I nearly fell through the floor. I turn around to yell up the stairs for her and she’s already coming down. In a dress. And some cute little heels. And a little sweater top. I swear if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was heading to a bar mitzvah. Before I could say anything, she plowed right past me and out the door. And they didn’t come home until 12:57 that night. Not that I was upset. I know Sol is a good boy who wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with my Frannie. Not that I was waiting on them, but I watched from the upstairs window in the closet when he actually walked her up to the porch. Such a gentleman. Sylvia may not be able to bake bagels to save her life, but she clearly raised a good boy! Unfortunately, they disappeared under the awning of the porch, so I couldn’t see if he gave her a good night kiss or anything. But they stayed under there for 24 seconds. You don’t just say “this was fun, I’ll call you” in 24 seconds.
So fast forward to tonight. I see Frannie this afternoon looking…different. Turns out she went to that salon up on 42nd and got an adorable haircut and some color. She looks like a young Barbara Streisand, if I do say so. I asked her “Frannie! Who do you think you’re getting all dolled up for?” She rolled her eyes at me, like she always does. “Ma!” she said. “Ma! I have a date. It’s not your concern!” I won’t lie. My heart skipped a beat or two at that little revelation. “A date? With who?” I asked. “Not that it’s any of your business, but with Sol.” Well, it was all I could do not to grab her by the cheeks and kiss her. Sol! My new son in law, Sol! I don’t remember much after that – she got all testy with me just because I was trying to be helpful and point out that men don’t marry women who put out on the second date – they marry LADIES and it wouldn’t hurt her to act a little ladylike. She yelled something about how they were going to bond over their traumatic childhoods being raised by overbearing Jewish mothers. Really, I don’t care about any of this. All I care about is that my Frannie has finally found a man worthy of her. I should call up Sylvia. Maybe her bagels would be better with a little schmear and a little lox…after all, we’ll be related soon. You’ve got to get along with family!
Dear Stella,
In the past two weeks, both of my parents have been diagnosed with a terminal illness – Mom with cancer that has spread to her lungs and brain, Dad with kidney failure. Neither of them are expected to live longer than 6 months. I have a younger sister who is mentally challenged – my parents have taken care of her for her entire life. After their passing, I’m expected to take care of her. However my husband is abusive and I’m currently pregnant with conjoined twins that will require years of surgery. We both recently lost our jobs. I just don’t know how to deal with these trying times. Any advice?
Crashing Down Around Me
Dear Crashing,
Oh, my God. Oh. God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Reader – I’m sure your problem is very important to me but today, I’m too distracted to give out advice. My suggestion – put some ointment on it or something. I can’t go into more detail than that – I’m too happily distracted. Readers, you know I don’t normally like to bring my personal life into my columns. But today I can’t resist. My daughter, Frannie, is going on a second date with Sol Gruierstein. You might remember him – he’s Sylvia’s son – the divorce attorney who handles all the nasty splits from those uppity Manhattan types. Well, I put them together on Sylvia’s loveseat during the break the fast party. They hit it off like nobody’s business. That was Thursday. Well, wouldn’t you know when our doorbell rang on Friday night, it was him. I answered it, expecting to find one of Frannie’s other boy things. You know – some sort of biker or tattoo artist or Methodist. Something that just makes a mother’s heart weep. Anyway, I open the door and who is there? Sol! I was thinking “did I leave my casserole dish over at Sylvia’s? Probably not – she’d just keep it, the thieving witch.” Then he asked for Frannie. Wouldn’t you know that I nearly fell through the floor. I turn around to yell up the stairs for her and she’s already coming down. In a dress. And some cute little heels. And a little sweater top. I swear if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was heading to a bar mitzvah. Before I could say anything, she plowed right past me and out the door. And they didn’t come home until 12:57 that night. Not that I was upset. I know Sol is a good boy who wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with my Frannie. Not that I was waiting on them, but I watched from the upstairs window in the closet when he actually walked her up to the porch. Such a gentleman. Sylvia may not be able to bake bagels to save her life, but she clearly raised a good boy! Unfortunately, they disappeared under the awning of the porch, so I couldn’t see if he gave her a good night kiss or anything. But they stayed under there for 24 seconds. You don’t just say “this was fun, I’ll call you” in 24 seconds.
So fast forward to tonight. I see Frannie this afternoon looking…different. Turns out she went to that salon up on 42nd and got an adorable haircut and some color. She looks like a young Barbara Streisand, if I do say so. I asked her “Frannie! Who do you think you’re getting all dolled up for?” She rolled her eyes at me, like she always does. “Ma!” she said. “Ma! I have a date. It’s not your concern!” I won’t lie. My heart skipped a beat or two at that little revelation. “A date? With who?” I asked. “Not that it’s any of your business, but with Sol.” Well, it was all I could do not to grab her by the cheeks and kiss her. Sol! My new son in law, Sol! I don’t remember much after that – she got all testy with me just because I was trying to be helpful and point out that men don’t marry women who put out on the second date – they marry LADIES and it wouldn’t hurt her to act a little ladylike. She yelled something about how they were going to bond over their traumatic childhoods being raised by overbearing Jewish mothers. Really, I don’t care about any of this. All I care about is that my Frannie has finally found a man worthy of her. I should call up Sylvia. Maybe her bagels would be better with a little schmear and a little lox…after all, we’ll be related soon. You’ve got to get along with family!
From the desk fo Liesl St. James - King of Kings, Lord of Lords
Today, in an effort to assist you lovely ladies accept the power of Christ in your hearts, we will learn some stories from the book of Kings. Kings follows the book of Samuel.
The book begins with the story of the ascension of King Solomon. So a bunch of stuff happens with people dying and whatever. Not important. Solomon is important for one and only one story. The baby story. Not A Baby Story, which shows about 6 times a day on TLC. We’re talking about the baby story. This story is to prove how just and wise good king Solomon was. It goes like this:
Two whores came to King Solomon with a baby. They could not agree between the two of them who the baby actually belonged to. Really, you wouldn’t think this was hard. Which ever whore got fat and then pooped out a kid should be the rightful owner. No fuss, no muss. Unfortunately, that version doesn’t highlight King Solomon’s greatness. So the story goes that the two whores brought King Solomon the baby, each claiming the baby was her own. King Solomon asked for a sword to cut the baby in half and settle the dispute once and for all. The first whore says “Fine by me!” The second whore says “NOOOOOOO!!!!!! Don’t cut the baby in half. Ok, just give it to her. I’d rather it go to her than be hurt.” The king knew that this woman had to be the real mother because only the real mother would rather give up the baby than see it killed. I would argue that most decent people would rather anything happen than a baby being cut in half, but hey, what do I know? I wonder which way he was going to cut it? Length wise, so everybody got half a face, half a body, one leg, one arm? Or width wise so someone got ahead and chest and someone got legs and an adorable baby butt?
Following this story is a story of a construction of a temple. The construction story is complete with negotiations with contractors, bidding wars, and delivery of supplies. Fascinating stuff. Then Solomon, in all his great wisdom, enslaves an entire race of people. Every Canaanite living in the land. Wise, indeed, Kingy.
Then good King Solomon holds a party. The Queen of Sheba comes to visit and see if Sol is really as wise as they claim. She is sufficiently impressed so she give him many of her precious things she’s got hanging around with her retinue. In return, Solomon gives her everything she wants along with everything she could ever desire beyond what she has already asked for. Solomon is so rich, he holds banquets every day. He has utensils and plates made of gold, ivory, and silver. Monkeys came to his banquets! I don’t know if they were guests or meat… He had a wife – you know, a main wife. But he had another 700 wives and 300 concubines. Really. 1,001 wives. What would you DO with all of them? How would you keep them straight? And if one did something you really liked, if you know what I mean, would you remember her going forward. Maybe if it was really really good. Given all this, I’m not sure Solomon was as wise as they claim.
Anyway, Good King Solomon dies and the kingdom is divided up in a rather complicated way. People die, there are droughts, there’s a guy who is fed by ravens. People die and then come back to life magically. There is a volcano (yes, they have those in the Bible…why not?). There are bears that tear 42 boys to shreds. More people die and miraculously come back to life. (That’s a bit of a theme in this book, as you’ll see) and then a bunch of people run off to Egypt. It’s all very complicated, with a lot of different kings doing different things that may or may not be good. Hence the name…Kings.
And that’s Kings!
The book begins with the story of the ascension of King Solomon. So a bunch of stuff happens with people dying and whatever. Not important. Solomon is important for one and only one story. The baby story. Not A Baby Story, which shows about 6 times a day on TLC. We’re talking about the baby story. This story is to prove how just and wise good king Solomon was. It goes like this:
Two whores came to King Solomon with a baby. They could not agree between the two of them who the baby actually belonged to. Really, you wouldn’t think this was hard. Which ever whore got fat and then pooped out a kid should be the rightful owner. No fuss, no muss. Unfortunately, that version doesn’t highlight King Solomon’s greatness. So the story goes that the two whores brought King Solomon the baby, each claiming the baby was her own. King Solomon asked for a sword to cut the baby in half and settle the dispute once and for all. The first whore says “Fine by me!” The second whore says “NOOOOOOO!!!!!! Don’t cut the baby in half. Ok, just give it to her. I’d rather it go to her than be hurt.” The king knew that this woman had to be the real mother because only the real mother would rather give up the baby than see it killed. I would argue that most decent people would rather anything happen than a baby being cut in half, but hey, what do I know? I wonder which way he was going to cut it? Length wise, so everybody got half a face, half a body, one leg, one arm? Or width wise so someone got ahead and chest and someone got legs and an adorable baby butt?
Following this story is a story of a construction of a temple. The construction story is complete with negotiations with contractors, bidding wars, and delivery of supplies. Fascinating stuff. Then Solomon, in all his great wisdom, enslaves an entire race of people. Every Canaanite living in the land. Wise, indeed, Kingy.
Then good King Solomon holds a party. The Queen of Sheba comes to visit and see if Sol is really as wise as they claim. She is sufficiently impressed so she give him many of her precious things she’s got hanging around with her retinue. In return, Solomon gives her everything she wants along with everything she could ever desire beyond what she has already asked for. Solomon is so rich, he holds banquets every day. He has utensils and plates made of gold, ivory, and silver. Monkeys came to his banquets! I don’t know if they were guests or meat… He had a wife – you know, a main wife. But he had another 700 wives and 300 concubines. Really. 1,001 wives. What would you DO with all of them? How would you keep them straight? And if one did something you really liked, if you know what I mean, would you remember her going forward. Maybe if it was really really good. Given all this, I’m not sure Solomon was as wise as they claim.
Anyway, Good King Solomon dies and the kingdom is divided up in a rather complicated way. People die, there are droughts, there’s a guy who is fed by ravens. People die and then come back to life magically. There is a volcano (yes, they have those in the Bible…why not?). There are bears that tear 42 boys to shreds. More people die and miraculously come back to life. (That’s a bit of a theme in this book, as you’ll see) and then a bunch of people run off to Egypt. It’s all very complicated, with a lot of different kings doing different things that may or may not be good. Hence the name…Kings.
And that’s Kings!
From the desk fo Liesl St. James - Sam, Sammy Samuel
The book of Samuel has all this stuff at the beginning that we’ll just skip over. There’s a statue, and a cow driven cart, and a guy named Ichabod, and a poem, and a lady who dies and another lady who dies, and a plague, and a fortune teller and a handsome man searching for donkeys, and everybody has their right eyes gouged out and some cursed honey. Same old same old. No need to rehash that story. It’s been told in so many episodes of Friends, I’m sure. Up to this point, it’s all about a guy named Saul.
So Saul’s bit is done, he’s still hanging around but needs to be replaced as king. Samuel goes to Bethelehem to find a replacement. He decides David might as well do. Then, for some unknown reason, God sends a deamon to torment Saul. So Saul’s servants do what anybody does when they’re trying to get rid of hell sent demons – they go in search of a harpist. David is a pretty good harpist, so he comes to court. I guess his bad ass harp playing will scare away the demon. Or his harp playing is so awful, the demon will decide hell is a better alternative.
Then the Philistines rally against Israel while David’s at court playing his harp. Goliath says that instead of fighting a huge battle where lots of people will be killed, they should just send one guy out and those two will fight it all out. Philistines vs. Israelites. Goliath vs. David. Pay per view event of the year! David persuades King Saul to let him fight Goliath. “But David” says Saul. “You aren’t big enough. He’ll crush you like a grape then give you a swirly.” “Pshaw! I can take him!” And so he does. David takes down Goliath with a single stone from his sling shot and then decapitates him with Goliath’s own sword. And the Philistines flee.
If you want to know what David looks like, see the Michelangelo statue in Florence. Yes, Michelangelo’s David is supposed to represent David in this story. If you look at the back of David and are able to draw your eyes away from his epic ass carved in stone, you’ll see that he’s holding a sling shot across his back. True story.
So Saul has David in court now, supposed to be his successor. Problem is, David is awesome. All the ladies love David. David has perfect handwriting, can cook a mean steak, and never ever misspells things. Saul gets jealous and decides he must do the only logical thing – kill David. Saul decides to promise his daughter Merab’s hand in marriage to David. But being a slimeball, he marries her off to someone else before they can get married. I guess he was hoping David would die of a broken heart or something. But no. David’s got his eye on Merab’s sister, Michal. Saul says you can have Michal if you bring me 100 Philistine foreskins. Yes, you will note that the bible is a little obsessed with foreskins. I can’t explain it. I just…I just can’t.
David goes out and kills 200 Philistines. I guess this achieves the 100 foreskin aim, assuming about 50% of the people killed were women. Really, you think you’d aim for the guys and that way not have to worry about it. Or maybe of the 200 killed, about half had already had a little procedure to take care of the foreskin. Whatever. This is more than I’ve ever thought about foreskins in my life. We’re moving on. David gets to marry Michal as promised. Saul tells Jonathan, David’s BFF, that he’s going to kill David. Jonathan does what any good BFF would do – he warns David. Then Saul throws a spear at David and misses. Really, couldn’t you have thrown the spear before marrying off your daughter and killing 200 people, etc.? Saul then sends a guard to kill David at his house, but Michal secrets him out the back door and puts a statue in the bed under the covers (as seen in Saved by the Bell AND Saved by the Bell The College Years). David escapes. Saul sends out more guards but they all run into prophets as they search for David and decide to join those gangs instead.
David goes into hiding, pursued by Saul. Then one day, David sneaks in, steals Saul’s spear, and then runs away. When he is out of reach of Saul, he shouts back “hey, I took your spear. Let’s be friends again”. And they are. Everybody’s happy. Then a bunch of people die and David sleeps with a lot of ladies, spreading his seed far and wide, if you catch my drift.
That’s it for the book of Samuel. We shall proceed on to Kings next time I’m bored. So possibly in an hour.
So Saul’s bit is done, he’s still hanging around but needs to be replaced as king. Samuel goes to Bethelehem to find a replacement. He decides David might as well do. Then, for some unknown reason, God sends a deamon to torment Saul. So Saul’s servants do what anybody does when they’re trying to get rid of hell sent demons – they go in search of a harpist. David is a pretty good harpist, so he comes to court. I guess his bad ass harp playing will scare away the demon. Or his harp playing is so awful, the demon will decide hell is a better alternative.
Then the Philistines rally against Israel while David’s at court playing his harp. Goliath says that instead of fighting a huge battle where lots of people will be killed, they should just send one guy out and those two will fight it all out. Philistines vs. Israelites. Goliath vs. David. Pay per view event of the year! David persuades King Saul to let him fight Goliath. “But David” says Saul. “You aren’t big enough. He’ll crush you like a grape then give you a swirly.” “Pshaw! I can take him!” And so he does. David takes down Goliath with a single stone from his sling shot and then decapitates him with Goliath’s own sword. And the Philistines flee.
If you want to know what David looks like, see the Michelangelo statue in Florence. Yes, Michelangelo’s David is supposed to represent David in this story. If you look at the back of David and are able to draw your eyes away from his epic ass carved in stone, you’ll see that he’s holding a sling shot across his back. True story.
So Saul has David in court now, supposed to be his successor. Problem is, David is awesome. All the ladies love David. David has perfect handwriting, can cook a mean steak, and never ever misspells things. Saul gets jealous and decides he must do the only logical thing – kill David. Saul decides to promise his daughter Merab’s hand in marriage to David. But being a slimeball, he marries her off to someone else before they can get married. I guess he was hoping David would die of a broken heart or something. But no. David’s got his eye on Merab’s sister, Michal. Saul says you can have Michal if you bring me 100 Philistine foreskins. Yes, you will note that the bible is a little obsessed with foreskins. I can’t explain it. I just…I just can’t.
David goes out and kills 200 Philistines. I guess this achieves the 100 foreskin aim, assuming about 50% of the people killed were women. Really, you think you’d aim for the guys and that way not have to worry about it. Or maybe of the 200 killed, about half had already had a little procedure to take care of the foreskin. Whatever. This is more than I’ve ever thought about foreskins in my life. We’re moving on. David gets to marry Michal as promised. Saul tells Jonathan, David’s BFF, that he’s going to kill David. Jonathan does what any good BFF would do – he warns David. Then Saul throws a spear at David and misses. Really, couldn’t you have thrown the spear before marrying off your daughter and killing 200 people, etc.? Saul then sends a guard to kill David at his house, but Michal secrets him out the back door and puts a statue in the bed under the covers (as seen in Saved by the Bell AND Saved by the Bell The College Years). David escapes. Saul sends out more guards but they all run into prophets as they search for David and decide to join those gangs instead.
David goes into hiding, pursued by Saul. Then one day, David sneaks in, steals Saul’s spear, and then runs away. When he is out of reach of Saul, he shouts back “hey, I took your spear. Let’s be friends again”. And they are. Everybody’s happy. Then a bunch of people die and David sleeps with a lot of ladies, spreading his seed far and wide, if you catch my drift.
That’s it for the book of Samuel. We shall proceed on to Kings next time I’m bored. So possibly in an hour.
From the desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
I don’t feel very atoned. What’s the deal?
Sinner in Seattle
Dear SIS,
I feel very atoned. I probably know why you don’t. Did you observe your high holy days properly this year? I did. Let me tell you about yom kippur in the Goldberg house. It starts at sundown the night before, of course. We go to services at B’Nia B’rith up in Manhattan. It’s a very nice synagogue. You should see it. Obviously they’re putting good use to the $324 we had to pay to attend services. Did you ever hear of such a thing?!?! It’s 18x18, so it’s holy squared, or some such nonsense. I’m just saying, that’s a lot of money to get right with God. This year, I got Morty a brand new yarmulke – imported directly from Israel. It’s hand embroidered and everything. Very stylish – you’ve got to look good when you go to services up with those Manhattan yuppies. My son, Jared – he’s a doctor – he met us at services coming directly from the hospital. He’s such a good boy – really makes a mother proud. My daughter, Frannie, on the other hand – she wanted to wear combat boots to services. “Frannie!” I says. “Frannie! You can’t wear combat boots when you’re dad is wearing his brand new embroidered yarmulke and when your brother is a doctor. Put on some heels, for the love of God. You never know what kind of nice Jewish doctors might be at services – you need to dress to impress!” That girl – I’m lucky she doesn’t give me a heart attack sometimes.
After services, we came home and began our fast. I would have liked it if my son, Jared, had stayed at home from work at the hospital. But when you’re a doctor saving people’s lives, you don’t always get that luxury. He’s a good boy, my Jared. The next day, we all woke up really craving a good nosh. But we’re good Jews, we don’t do that sort of thing! You don’t get properly atoned if you can’t even fast for 24 hours. But again, that Frannie. I swear I smelled crackers on her breath when we were playing canasta in the morning. My mother came over for a little while, we really enjoyed the day. Then I had to start getting ready for our break the fast party. Every year, we got to a break the fast at Sylvia Gruierstein’s house. She thinks she’s hot stuff, making her own bagels and such. Well, I show her up every year when I come in with my cherry cheese blintzes. The way people ask about my famous cherry cheese blintzes. Nobody even gives a second thought to those rocks she calls bagels after we arrive. I made Frannie dress up in that lavender dress I got her last year for the Wineblath’s Hanukkah party. It shows off her bosoms without giving away the farm. Anyway, as soon as we arrived, I saved the poor people from Sylvia’s bagel rocks with my cherry cheese blintzes and then I led Frannie right over to Sylvia’s oldest son, Sol. Sol’s a divorce attorney in the city. His mom may not be much with bagels, but he’s a Jewish lawyer – Frannie could (and has!) do worse. I plopped the two of them down on that hideous loveseat Sylvia thinks is so nice and let them alone. I’m not one to meddle in my kids’ affairs. I only came over a few times to mention that Frannie had helped me make the delicious cherry cheese blintzes and that she’s single. Again, I don’t meddle. They did seem to get along. So here’s hoping. Hand to God, if Frannie marries Sol, I’ll climb up to heaven and kiss God myself.
Anyway, that’s how I spent my yom kippur. If you’re not feeling fully atoned, it’s probably because you didn’t fast and didn’t come to realize your sins. So you’ll have to double up next year. And no noshing before sundown!
Dear Stella,
I don’t feel very atoned. What’s the deal?
Sinner in Seattle
Dear SIS,
I feel very atoned. I probably know why you don’t. Did you observe your high holy days properly this year? I did. Let me tell you about yom kippur in the Goldberg house. It starts at sundown the night before, of course. We go to services at B’Nia B’rith up in Manhattan. It’s a very nice synagogue. You should see it. Obviously they’re putting good use to the $324 we had to pay to attend services. Did you ever hear of such a thing?!?! It’s 18x18, so it’s holy squared, or some such nonsense. I’m just saying, that’s a lot of money to get right with God. This year, I got Morty a brand new yarmulke – imported directly from Israel. It’s hand embroidered and everything. Very stylish – you’ve got to look good when you go to services up with those Manhattan yuppies. My son, Jared – he’s a doctor – he met us at services coming directly from the hospital. He’s such a good boy – really makes a mother proud. My daughter, Frannie, on the other hand – she wanted to wear combat boots to services. “Frannie!” I says. “Frannie! You can’t wear combat boots when you’re dad is wearing his brand new embroidered yarmulke and when your brother is a doctor. Put on some heels, for the love of God. You never know what kind of nice Jewish doctors might be at services – you need to dress to impress!” That girl – I’m lucky she doesn’t give me a heart attack sometimes.
After services, we came home and began our fast. I would have liked it if my son, Jared, had stayed at home from work at the hospital. But when you’re a doctor saving people’s lives, you don’t always get that luxury. He’s a good boy, my Jared. The next day, we all woke up really craving a good nosh. But we’re good Jews, we don’t do that sort of thing! You don’t get properly atoned if you can’t even fast for 24 hours. But again, that Frannie. I swear I smelled crackers on her breath when we were playing canasta in the morning. My mother came over for a little while, we really enjoyed the day. Then I had to start getting ready for our break the fast party. Every year, we got to a break the fast at Sylvia Gruierstein’s house. She thinks she’s hot stuff, making her own bagels and such. Well, I show her up every year when I come in with my cherry cheese blintzes. The way people ask about my famous cherry cheese blintzes. Nobody even gives a second thought to those rocks she calls bagels after we arrive. I made Frannie dress up in that lavender dress I got her last year for the Wineblath’s Hanukkah party. It shows off her bosoms without giving away the farm. Anyway, as soon as we arrived, I saved the poor people from Sylvia’s bagel rocks with my cherry cheese blintzes and then I led Frannie right over to Sylvia’s oldest son, Sol. Sol’s a divorce attorney in the city. His mom may not be much with bagels, but he’s a Jewish lawyer – Frannie could (and has!) do worse. I plopped the two of them down on that hideous loveseat Sylvia thinks is so nice and let them alone. I’m not one to meddle in my kids’ affairs. I only came over a few times to mention that Frannie had helped me make the delicious cherry cheese blintzes and that she’s single. Again, I don’t meddle. They did seem to get along. So here’s hoping. Hand to God, if Frannie marries Sol, I’ll climb up to heaven and kiss God myself.
Anyway, that’s how I spent my yom kippur. If you’re not feeling fully atoned, it’s probably because you didn’t fast and didn’t come to realize your sins. So you’ll have to double up next year. And no noshing before sundown!
From the desk of Liesl St. James - Ruth. Finally - some chicks are in this book!
So the next book in this odyssey we call the Bible is the book of Ruth. It’s a self contained novella inside the bible. No kidding. It’s actually just a random story someone set in there. Like if someone opened up Moby Dick and just stapled in a copy of The Kite Runner on page 183 or something. Just a completely random story that has nothing to do with anything. The story goes a little something like this:
There was an Israelite family from Bethlehem. Elimelech and Naomi. They had tow sons, Mahlon and Chilion. Mahlon marries Ruth, Chilion marries Orpah. Interestingly enough (and this will be probably the only thing you take from this story) Orpah is what Oprah’s name was supposed to be. But it was misspelled on the birth certificate. So she ended up Oprah instead of Orpah. Anyway, all the boys die. Elimelech, Mahlon, and Chilion, leaving the 3 widows. Naomi, the mother in law, tells the two daughter in laws to go back to their own families to they can be married off to new men and make babies and such. Orpah, the hussy, goes. Ruth says “no thanks, I’ll stay with you”.
So Ruth and Naomi are chilling, but they’re poor. It’s barley harvest time, so Ruth goes into the fields to glean. It’s a biblical order that farmers leave the corners of their fields unharvested so poor people can glean the remaining food from those spots. To this day you’ll still see unharvested corners in fields in Kansas. True Story. Anyway, Ruth goes to the fields of a guy named Boaz. Kinda like Jessica’s last name. He likes Ruth and likes that’s she’s kind to her mother in law, even though it’s not required. I GUARANTY that if Sean died, I would not continue to be nice to his mom. Hell, I can’t really claim I’m nice now.
Turns out, Boaz is a close relative to Naomi’s husband’s family. So he’s required by Levirate law to marron Mahlon’s widow, Ruth, in order to carry on the family line. Naomi tells Ruth to go to Boaz at night as he sleeps on the thrashing floor and uncover him. Ruth does so, and reminds him that he has the right to “redeem” her (did I mention this story is Biblical porn?). Well, Boaz likes Ruth (maybe she had the girls out, if you know what I’m saying), and oh, boy, he wants to do some redeeming. But there is a relative closer to Elimelech who has a more legitimate right to “redeem” Ruth. Boaz goes to the guy and says “hey, there’s this hottie named Ruth. You want to ‘redeem’ her, if you know what I’m saying?!?” And the other guy thinks about it but says “nah, chicks are nothing but trouble. If I ‘redeem’ her, she’ll get all clingy and demand half of my estate. I don’t want her taking my stuff, and the prenuptial agreement won’t be a legally binding document for a couple thousand years. You can have her.”
So Boaz goes back to Ruth. They get married and ‘redeem’ like bunnies. Producing a son named Obed.
That’s it. That’s the entire story. The bible proper picks up in the next chapter.
There was an Israelite family from Bethlehem. Elimelech and Naomi. They had tow sons, Mahlon and Chilion. Mahlon marries Ruth, Chilion marries Orpah. Interestingly enough (and this will be probably the only thing you take from this story) Orpah is what Oprah’s name was supposed to be. But it was misspelled on the birth certificate. So she ended up Oprah instead of Orpah. Anyway, all the boys die. Elimelech, Mahlon, and Chilion, leaving the 3 widows. Naomi, the mother in law, tells the two daughter in laws to go back to their own families to they can be married off to new men and make babies and such. Orpah, the hussy, goes. Ruth says “no thanks, I’ll stay with you”.
So Ruth and Naomi are chilling, but they’re poor. It’s barley harvest time, so Ruth goes into the fields to glean. It’s a biblical order that farmers leave the corners of their fields unharvested so poor people can glean the remaining food from those spots. To this day you’ll still see unharvested corners in fields in Kansas. True Story. Anyway, Ruth goes to the fields of a guy named Boaz. Kinda like Jessica’s last name. He likes Ruth and likes that’s she’s kind to her mother in law, even though it’s not required. I GUARANTY that if Sean died, I would not continue to be nice to his mom. Hell, I can’t really claim I’m nice now.
Turns out, Boaz is a close relative to Naomi’s husband’s family. So he’s required by Levirate law to marron Mahlon’s widow, Ruth, in order to carry on the family line. Naomi tells Ruth to go to Boaz at night as he sleeps on the thrashing floor and uncover him. Ruth does so, and reminds him that he has the right to “redeem” her (did I mention this story is Biblical porn?). Well, Boaz likes Ruth (maybe she had the girls out, if you know what I’m saying), and oh, boy, he wants to do some redeeming. But there is a relative closer to Elimelech who has a more legitimate right to “redeem” Ruth. Boaz goes to the guy and says “hey, there’s this hottie named Ruth. You want to ‘redeem’ her, if you know what I’m saying?!?” And the other guy thinks about it but says “nah, chicks are nothing but trouble. If I ‘redeem’ her, she’ll get all clingy and demand half of my estate. I don’t want her taking my stuff, and the prenuptial agreement won’t be a legally binding document for a couple thousand years. You can have her.”
So Boaz goes back to Ruth. They get married and ‘redeem’ like bunnies. Producing a son named Obed.
That’s it. That’s the entire story. The bible proper picks up in the next chapter.
From the desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
Tonight my boyfriend and I are going to go our separate ways. I’ve enjoyed our time together, but he was never “The One” and it’s time to move on. What’s the best way to dive back into the dating scene to find Mr. Right?
Regards,
Soon to be Single
Dear Single,
Oh, My God! So the other night, I was coming home from playing canasta at Barbara Feldman’s house when I hear my daughter, Frannie, stomping around like you would not believe. “Frannie!” I yell, “Frannie! What are you, trying to wake the devil or something? Maybe try walking like a lady every now and then!” “MA!” she says. “MA! I broke up with Julio. Have a little sympathy!” Hand to God, short of the moment I watched my son Jared accept his medical school diploma, that might have been the greatest moment of my life. Finally! She’s come to her senses! Now she can move on with her life and start dating someone who actually has potential to be my future son-in-law.
Do you know what I did next? I went to the kitchen and made her a batch of my famous cherry cheese blintzes. If I know anything, I know that cherry cheese blintzes make you feel better when you’ve got a broken heart. I took them right up to her room and told her “darling, have a nosh. An empty stomach only makes you feel worse at times like this. And you’re too thin, anyway. Like skin and bones, this one is!” Then I asked her the normal mother questions – when, where, why , how, was he really really really gone? I’m not going to go into the details of my family matters, but trust me, after you catch someone bending a manicurist name Rosa over a pommel horse in a middle school gymnasium, you don’t get back into that relationship. But I didn’t want to pry, so I just came back downstairs and started shopping for a nice dress that will show off her bosoms. The high holy days are coming up, and you’ve got to look nice. Plus, where better than to meet a nice Jewish doctor than at temple on a holy day? I keep telling my son Jared, he’s a doctor, that it wouldn’t hurt to bring home some of your single doctor friends. Bring them over, I’ll make some cherry cheese blintzes and you can sit around…maybe Frannie will come down and pretend to be halfway pleasant to people for a change.
So I’ll tell you what I told Frannie – you gotta put yourself back out there. You know men want you, you just gotta make sure you project yourself to the right guys. And now you’re a little older and wiser, so maybe you can figure out a little faster who is Mr. Right and who is Mr. Right Now. Just walk into the room like you know that every man in there wants you and sure enough, soon every man will. And it wouldn’t hurt to show a little bosoms.
Dear Stella,
Tonight my boyfriend and I are going to go our separate ways. I’ve enjoyed our time together, but he was never “The One” and it’s time to move on. What’s the best way to dive back into the dating scene to find Mr. Right?
Regards,
Soon to be Single
Dear Single,
Oh, My God! So the other night, I was coming home from playing canasta at Barbara Feldman’s house when I hear my daughter, Frannie, stomping around like you would not believe. “Frannie!” I yell, “Frannie! What are you, trying to wake the devil or something? Maybe try walking like a lady every now and then!” “MA!” she says. “MA! I broke up with Julio. Have a little sympathy!” Hand to God, short of the moment I watched my son Jared accept his medical school diploma, that might have been the greatest moment of my life. Finally! She’s come to her senses! Now she can move on with her life and start dating someone who actually has potential to be my future son-in-law.
Do you know what I did next? I went to the kitchen and made her a batch of my famous cherry cheese blintzes. If I know anything, I know that cherry cheese blintzes make you feel better when you’ve got a broken heart. I took them right up to her room and told her “darling, have a nosh. An empty stomach only makes you feel worse at times like this. And you’re too thin, anyway. Like skin and bones, this one is!” Then I asked her the normal mother questions – when, where, why , how, was he really really really gone? I’m not going to go into the details of my family matters, but trust me, after you catch someone bending a manicurist name Rosa over a pommel horse in a middle school gymnasium, you don’t get back into that relationship. But I didn’t want to pry, so I just came back downstairs and started shopping for a nice dress that will show off her bosoms. The high holy days are coming up, and you’ve got to look nice. Plus, where better than to meet a nice Jewish doctor than at temple on a holy day? I keep telling my son Jared, he’s a doctor, that it wouldn’t hurt to bring home some of your single doctor friends. Bring them over, I’ll make some cherry cheese blintzes and you can sit around…maybe Frannie will come down and pretend to be halfway pleasant to people for a change.
So I’ll tell you what I told Frannie – you gotta put yourself back out there. You know men want you, you just gotta make sure you project yourself to the right guys. And now you’re a little older and wiser, so maybe you can figure out a little faster who is Mr. Right and who is Mr. Right Now. Just walk into the room like you know that every man in there wants you and sure enough, soon every man will. And it wouldn’t hurt to show a little bosoms.
From the desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
In my zeal to eat my lemon bar, I may have accidentally eaten a small piece of plastic wrapping. I can feel something tickling the back of my throat. Will plastic wrap hurt me?
Sincerely,
Loves Lemon Bars
Dear Loves Lemon Bars,
Oh, who hasn’t been there? My Morty loves the cherry cheese blintzes I make every year for the Fitzberg’s holiday party. They’re always a hit, and I always have to make extra because he’s eating them before I can get them to the party. “Morty!” I says. “Morty! We’re going to look cheap, showing up empty handed at the Fitzberg’s! And you know I don’t want to look cheap after the comment Hattie made at Jared’s bar mitzvah about our table linens being part polyester!” Well, wouldn’t you know. One year, I made a big batch, left a few on the counter for my genius husband to nosh on, and put the rest in the freezer until the party. Two o’clock in the morning, Morty wakes up and decides he needs a snack. Eating! It’s all boys think about. He goes out to the freezer and what does he find? My cherry cheese blintzes. He goes to town and ends up sucking down a piece of waxed paper. He comes to the bedroom and shakes me awake. I’m thinking the world is ending the way he’s acting. Fortunately, my son Jared, who was in medical school at the time, was home for the weekend. We got him up. He shined a little flashlight in Morty’s throat and said there was nothing wrong. Morty is such a drama queen. But it does make me feel so secure to have a doctor in the house. My son, Jared – the doctor! He makes me so proud. Well, I had to get up at that point, anyway, because the party was that evening and I wasn’t going to show up with an Entimanns pound cake and give Hattie the chance to never let me hear the end of it. Cherry cheese blintzes – at 4:00 in the morning! Can you imagine? But they were the hit of the party – everybody commented on them. Nobody said a word about that sad little relish tray Eva Freeberg brought, but everybody raved about my cherry cheese blintzes. Hattie was seething with jealousy, I could just feel it from across the room. Serves her right…saying my table linens were part polyester.
Anyway, you’re probably fine. Just have a little nosh and drink some water and it will probably wash down. If it really starts to bother you, and your son isn’t a doctor, then maybe make an appointment at that little clinic in the mall or something. Or if any of your friends sons are doctors, see if they’re free. Maybe bring along your single daughter, if you have one. It never hurts for girls to be exposed to single Jewish doctors. Though I know for a fact no matter how many single, cute, emotionally available doctors you parade in front of your daughter, she’ll still end up bringing home some Mexican. But that’s another story and I don’t like to bring up personal stories in my columns.
Dear Stella,
In my zeal to eat my lemon bar, I may have accidentally eaten a small piece of plastic wrapping. I can feel something tickling the back of my throat. Will plastic wrap hurt me?
Sincerely,
Loves Lemon Bars
Dear Loves Lemon Bars,
Oh, who hasn’t been there? My Morty loves the cherry cheese blintzes I make every year for the Fitzberg’s holiday party. They’re always a hit, and I always have to make extra because he’s eating them before I can get them to the party. “Morty!” I says. “Morty! We’re going to look cheap, showing up empty handed at the Fitzberg’s! And you know I don’t want to look cheap after the comment Hattie made at Jared’s bar mitzvah about our table linens being part polyester!” Well, wouldn’t you know. One year, I made a big batch, left a few on the counter for my genius husband to nosh on, and put the rest in the freezer until the party. Two o’clock in the morning, Morty wakes up and decides he needs a snack. Eating! It’s all boys think about. He goes out to the freezer and what does he find? My cherry cheese blintzes. He goes to town and ends up sucking down a piece of waxed paper. He comes to the bedroom and shakes me awake. I’m thinking the world is ending the way he’s acting. Fortunately, my son Jared, who was in medical school at the time, was home for the weekend. We got him up. He shined a little flashlight in Morty’s throat and said there was nothing wrong. Morty is such a drama queen. But it does make me feel so secure to have a doctor in the house. My son, Jared – the doctor! He makes me so proud. Well, I had to get up at that point, anyway, because the party was that evening and I wasn’t going to show up with an Entimanns pound cake and give Hattie the chance to never let me hear the end of it. Cherry cheese blintzes – at 4:00 in the morning! Can you imagine? But they were the hit of the party – everybody commented on them. Nobody said a word about that sad little relish tray Eva Freeberg brought, but everybody raved about my cherry cheese blintzes. Hattie was seething with jealousy, I could just feel it from across the room. Serves her right…saying my table linens were part polyester.
Anyway, you’re probably fine. Just have a little nosh and drink some water and it will probably wash down. If it really starts to bother you, and your son isn’t a doctor, then maybe make an appointment at that little clinic in the mall or something. Or if any of your friends sons are doctors, see if they’re free. Maybe bring along your single daughter, if you have one. It never hurts for girls to be exposed to single Jewish doctors. Though I know for a fact no matter how many single, cute, emotionally available doctors you parade in front of your daughter, she’ll still end up bringing home some Mexican. But that’s another story and I don’t like to bring up personal stories in my columns.
From the desk of Liesl St. James - Joshua fought the battle of Jericho...and later they wrote a snappy song about it
So I’ve decided to skip the book of Deuteronomy. There’s nothing important in that one either. Just Moses dies. So here’s the book of Deuteronomy – Moses goes to Moses heaven. There you have it. And now that we’re out of the really Jewy parts, I can start putting the “o” back in God.
So we pick up in the book of Joshua. Moses is dead and Joshua has been appointed his successor. God has ordered him to destroy everything that breathes in the city of Jericho. Why, you may ask? I can’t tell you. There are all sorts of times in the bible where cities and peoples are determined to be no longer worthy of oxygen without explicit explanation as to why. I guess that’s when God gets to pull the “god” card and say “because I said so”. So he says so – Jericho has to come down. Joshua sends two spies out to Jericho to determine the best way to loose the people there from the mortal coil. Rahab (no, not rehab) helps them while they spy in exchange for her family being spared from the future calamity.
The spies come back and Joshua decided it’s go time. He gathers everybody up and to Jericho they march. When they reach the river Jordan, the river miraculously dries up allowing them all the march across without getting muddy. Funny how bodies of water move hither and yon at people’s will in the bible. Why doesn’t that happen these days? I’d like that ability. I promise to only use it for good.
On the other side of the river, they all decide to camp and get circumcised. Why? I don’t know. Apparently it was just that time. Everybody who had been born during the 40 years they were wandering in the desert hadn’t been circumcised…or at least the men hadn’t. So they got to chopping. I guess really they had to. The place they camped was called Gibeath-Haaraloth, which means (and I am not making this up) the hill of foreskins.
Then off they go, a little worse for wear, to the battle of Jericho. Since all the guys were having a little trouble walking straight, they decided to fight this battle in a more round-about manner. The Israelites circled the city once a day for six days. On the seventh day they blew horns really loud and shouted. The walls then fell down, as walls tend to do when you yell at them loud enough. Everybody in the city, except Rahab and her family, were slaughtered. And a curse was pronounced against anybody who tried to rebuild the city. Note: Jericho still stands today and people live and work and go to the grocery there. For all the crazy things the bible had to offer, apparently effective curses against rebuilding cities was not one of them.
Next, they turned to the city of Ai. Decided it was week and sent a small group to go kill those guys, too. But somehow the Ai people defeat the little army and Joshua is sad. THEN more bad news! God says that the people sinned! Someone stole some booty from Jericho! So they had to find out who. So they cast lots. This was a practice of divination where they divided people into groups and then flipping a coin or something and God would tell you which group contained the sinner (heads, it’s the group on the left, Tails, it’s the ones on the right). So they do this over and over again until they figure out that Achan stole the booty. Having been caught by this sure-fire method, he admits he stole gold, silver, and garments. Then they found the stuff in his tent. So there’s no denying it at this point. Then they stone and burn him and everybody who lives in his household to death, as you do when someone steals from you.
The next day, they try again and destroy Ai. And they impale the king and put is corpse on display.
The next book is Judges. Joshua dies. That’s all you need to know from that one. Then after that is Ruth. Finally! Some chicks get involved in this book!
So we pick up in the book of Joshua. Moses is dead and Joshua has been appointed his successor. God has ordered him to destroy everything that breathes in the city of Jericho. Why, you may ask? I can’t tell you. There are all sorts of times in the bible where cities and peoples are determined to be no longer worthy of oxygen without explicit explanation as to why. I guess that’s when God gets to pull the “god” card and say “because I said so”. So he says so – Jericho has to come down. Joshua sends two spies out to Jericho to determine the best way to loose the people there from the mortal coil. Rahab (no, not rehab) helps them while they spy in exchange for her family being spared from the future calamity.
The spies come back and Joshua decided it’s go time. He gathers everybody up and to Jericho they march. When they reach the river Jordan, the river miraculously dries up allowing them all the march across without getting muddy. Funny how bodies of water move hither and yon at people’s will in the bible. Why doesn’t that happen these days? I’d like that ability. I promise to only use it for good.
On the other side of the river, they all decide to camp and get circumcised. Why? I don’t know. Apparently it was just that time. Everybody who had been born during the 40 years they were wandering in the desert hadn’t been circumcised…or at least the men hadn’t. So they got to chopping. I guess really they had to. The place they camped was called Gibeath-Haaraloth, which means (and I am not making this up) the hill of foreskins.
Then off they go, a little worse for wear, to the battle of Jericho. Since all the guys were having a little trouble walking straight, they decided to fight this battle in a more round-about manner. The Israelites circled the city once a day for six days. On the seventh day they blew horns really loud and shouted. The walls then fell down, as walls tend to do when you yell at them loud enough. Everybody in the city, except Rahab and her family, were slaughtered. And a curse was pronounced against anybody who tried to rebuild the city. Note: Jericho still stands today and people live and work and go to the grocery there. For all the crazy things the bible had to offer, apparently effective curses against rebuilding cities was not one of them.
Next, they turned to the city of Ai. Decided it was week and sent a small group to go kill those guys, too. But somehow the Ai people defeat the little army and Joshua is sad. THEN more bad news! God says that the people sinned! Someone stole some booty from Jericho! So they had to find out who. So they cast lots. This was a practice of divination where they divided people into groups and then flipping a coin or something and God would tell you which group contained the sinner (heads, it’s the group on the left, Tails, it’s the ones on the right). So they do this over and over again until they figure out that Achan stole the booty. Having been caught by this sure-fire method, he admits he stole gold, silver, and garments. Then they found the stuff in his tent. So there’s no denying it at this point. Then they stone and burn him and everybody who lives in his household to death, as you do when someone steals from you.
The next day, they try again and destroy Ai. And they impale the king and put is corpse on display.
The next book is Judges. Joshua dies. That’s all you need to know from that one. Then after that is Ruth. Finally! Some chicks get involved in this book!
From the desk of Liesl St. James - The Journey to Mt. Sinai, or, Buy those Jews a Garmin!
So when last we left our plucky little Moses, he had just taught the Jews about the meaning of Passover.
Moses gathers up all the folks – it numbers about 600,000 men plus their women, children, and flocks. They all head out to the mountain of G-d. It should be noted that nobody knew where this mountain was. They just sensed it existed. So they start wandering. Pharaoh sends his army to pursue them because he’s unhappy that so many of his subjects up and left like that, especially after setting such plagues onto this pharaohdom. Moses leads the Israelites to the Red Sea. Normally a problem, right? You’re stuck with, like, a million people on one side of a body of water, angry army in hot pursuit, and not a Carnival Cruise ship in SIGHT to move all these people to the other side. What do you do?!? What DO you DO?!? You get G-d on your side, that’s what you do! So Moses calls up to G-d and is all “G-d – what’s up?” G-d looks down and says “M, I’ve got you covered. Raise your arms.”
So Moses raises his arms and the Red Sea parts like magic. Wide open. And the Israelites start trekking across. They plod along. The pharaoh’s army gives chase, and G-d responds as only he can. He closes the Sea back up, drowning them all. Good times, good times.
40 years the Jews wandered in the desert. FORTY YEARS. That’s a long time. Wandering around, looking for a mountain. Really, folks. If you’re looking for a mountain, you shouldn’t be in the desert. But they never asked my opinion. Anyway, they started whining. It’s hot, I’m tired, there’s sand in my underwear, I’m hungry, I’m thirsty. G-d listened to some of their complaints. He gave them quail and bread to eat (like dinner at Nancy’s!) At Rephidim, he gave them the miracle of water from the rock of Meribah. Sometime in that 40 years, the Amalekites attacked the Jews, so G-d ordered eternal war against those folks (nobody here is an Amalekite, are you? Jessica might slip antifreeze in your coffee). Finally finally finally, they arrived at Mt Sinai and Moses appointed some judges over Israel.
So they’re chillin’ at the mountain. G-d asks them “are you willing to be my people?” The peeps answer “sure, why not.” So everybody gathers at the base of the mountain. There’s thunder, lightening, fire, smoke, clouds, and trumpets G-d appears on the peak of the mountain and the people hear his voice. He tells Moses and his brother Aaron (remember him from the last story?) to climb the mountain to get the new list of rules and regulations for life.
Moses climbs the mountain. G-d gives him the convenant code, which is a far too detailed list of ritual and civil law. G-d tells them they can have Canaan if they obey the rules. Moses goes back down the mountain, tells the people you have to obey the rules, and the people say “sure.” Moses goes back up the mountain and they have dinner with G-d. Then G-d gives Moses a stone tablet containing the ten commandments written with G-d’s own finger! Awesome! You don’t want to ruin something awesome like that!
So Moses goes back down the mountain and finds the idiots down there worshipping golden cows. Apparently in Moses’ absence, Aaron made a gold cow for them to worship and they’re all sitting around praying to that thing. Moses gets pissed, smashes the tablets, and tells the people not worshipping the cow to kill those who are. Moses goes back up the mountain and say “G-d…interesting story about those last tablets…” G-d says “I know, I saw” and he gives Moses a new set of tablets.
And then for the final time, Moses takes the tablets down and reads the 10 commandments to the people. Those commandments are (and I’m going to do this part from memory, so they may not be in order).
1 I am the lord thy god, you shall have no other gods before me.
2 Don’t make false idols (AHEM…AARON)
3 Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy
4 don’t swear
5 honor your mom and dad
6 don’t commit adultery
7 don’t covet your neighbor’s ass (or his donkey)
8 don’t kill
9 don’t lie
10 don’t steal
HA! Got them all on the first try. So the next book of the bible is Leviticus. Then Numbers. We’re just going to skip those two. They’re not important. If you want them in a nutshell, they go like this “Whatever you want to do or are thinking about doing…DON’T” That’s the whole thing. We’ll pick up in Deuteronomy later.
Moses gathers up all the folks – it numbers about 600,000 men plus their women, children, and flocks. They all head out to the mountain of G-d. It should be noted that nobody knew where this mountain was. They just sensed it existed. So they start wandering. Pharaoh sends his army to pursue them because he’s unhappy that so many of his subjects up and left like that, especially after setting such plagues onto this pharaohdom. Moses leads the Israelites to the Red Sea. Normally a problem, right? You’re stuck with, like, a million people on one side of a body of water, angry army in hot pursuit, and not a Carnival Cruise ship in SIGHT to move all these people to the other side. What do you do?!? What DO you DO?!? You get G-d on your side, that’s what you do! So Moses calls up to G-d and is all “G-d – what’s up?” G-d looks down and says “M, I’ve got you covered. Raise your arms.”
So Moses raises his arms and the Red Sea parts like magic. Wide open. And the Israelites start trekking across. They plod along. The pharaoh’s army gives chase, and G-d responds as only he can. He closes the Sea back up, drowning them all. Good times, good times.
40 years the Jews wandered in the desert. FORTY YEARS. That’s a long time. Wandering around, looking for a mountain. Really, folks. If you’re looking for a mountain, you shouldn’t be in the desert. But they never asked my opinion. Anyway, they started whining. It’s hot, I’m tired, there’s sand in my underwear, I’m hungry, I’m thirsty. G-d listened to some of their complaints. He gave them quail and bread to eat (like dinner at Nancy’s!) At Rephidim, he gave them the miracle of water from the rock of Meribah. Sometime in that 40 years, the Amalekites attacked the Jews, so G-d ordered eternal war against those folks (nobody here is an Amalekite, are you? Jessica might slip antifreeze in your coffee). Finally finally finally, they arrived at Mt Sinai and Moses appointed some judges over Israel.
So they’re chillin’ at the mountain. G-d asks them “are you willing to be my people?” The peeps answer “sure, why not.” So everybody gathers at the base of the mountain. There’s thunder, lightening, fire, smoke, clouds, and trumpets G-d appears on the peak of the mountain and the people hear his voice. He tells Moses and his brother Aaron (remember him from the last story?) to climb the mountain to get the new list of rules and regulations for life.
Moses climbs the mountain. G-d gives him the convenant code, which is a far too detailed list of ritual and civil law. G-d tells them they can have Canaan if they obey the rules. Moses goes back down the mountain, tells the people you have to obey the rules, and the people say “sure.” Moses goes back up the mountain and they have dinner with G-d. Then G-d gives Moses a stone tablet containing the ten commandments written with G-d’s own finger! Awesome! You don’t want to ruin something awesome like that!
So Moses goes back down the mountain and finds the idiots down there worshipping golden cows. Apparently in Moses’ absence, Aaron made a gold cow for them to worship and they’re all sitting around praying to that thing. Moses gets pissed, smashes the tablets, and tells the people not worshipping the cow to kill those who are. Moses goes back up the mountain and say “G-d…interesting story about those last tablets…” G-d says “I know, I saw” and he gives Moses a new set of tablets.
And then for the final time, Moses takes the tablets down and reads the 10 commandments to the people. Those commandments are (and I’m going to do this part from memory, so they may not be in order).
1 I am the lord thy god, you shall have no other gods before me.
2 Don’t make false idols (AHEM…AARON)
3 Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy
4 don’t swear
5 honor your mom and dad
6 don’t commit adultery
7 don’t covet your neighbor’s ass (or his donkey)
8 don’t kill
9 don’t lie
10 don’t steal
HA! Got them all on the first try. So the next book of the bible is Leviticus. Then Numbers. We’re just going to skip those two. They’re not important. If you want them in a nutshell, they go like this “Whatever you want to do or are thinking about doing…DON’T” That’s the whole thing. We’ll pick up in Deuteronomy later.
Monday, October 20, 2008
From the Desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
My mother is coming to visit soon. I’m worried about getting the third degree regarding all the things that are happening in my life. Particularly, I’m seeing a new man and I know she’s going to want to know every detail. Is there any way to deflect the Jewish Mother Inquisition so I’m not grilled for three days regarding my love life, career, and fashion taste?
Regards,
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies
Dear AMNQITYNL,
Oh, if there is one thing I know about, it is the Jewish Mother Inquisition. When I first brought Morty home, I thought my mother’s questions would never end. She had to know every single little detail. “MA!” I’d say, “MA! What is with the third degree?!?! It’s like a freakin’ police interrogation in here.” “What do you know about police interrogations?” she’d ask me, “Is there anything you’d like to confess, young lady?!?” I promised myself that if I ever had kids, I would never turn into that woman. And I haven’t. When my children bring home dates, I only ask enough question to get the vital information. But you’d think I was my mother the way Frannie reacted when I started questioning her when she brought home her current guy. “MA!” she said, “MA! These questions are disgusting! You don’t need to know if it bends to the right or left!” “Look!” I tell her. “I just need to know that you’re happy!” And when my son, Jared, brings girls home, I have to ask enough question to know that they’re worth of my baby. He’s a doctor, you know. There are only so many handsome Jewish doctors to go around so you can’t go wasting them on some floozy that works in junior miss at Bloomindales! Any girl who gets my Jared has to have a future in front of her. And, of course, she’s got to know how to cook and take care of her man. I’m giving her the greatest gift I have to give – she better be able to take it on!
I’d tell you to do what I did when I had to face my mother. Be truthful, but evasive. If she asks more than she needs to know, just don’t answer. But whatever you do, don’t lie. If you end up marrying him, she’ll find out sometime that he’s actually not a partner at Vogel, Vonderlinden, and Timberland. That’s not a lie you can keep up forever. Trust me, I know! Also, if there’s anything big she needs to know, tell her up front. You don’t want her to be surprised later when you finally meet him at the Buddah Palace restaurant down on 68th and hand him your keys and tell him not to scratch the paint, only to find out the guy in the vest is actually your daughter’s boyfriend, not the valet. Could have warned me, Frannie! Apparently her new fellow isn’t a valet or anything. He works in telecommunications. As far as I’m concerned, he probably sells T-Mobile telephones at a kiosk in the mall. Bless, the grief kids will give you these days. I never!
Dear Stella,
My mother is coming to visit soon. I’m worried about getting the third degree regarding all the things that are happening in my life. Particularly, I’m seeing a new man and I know she’s going to want to know every detail. Is there any way to deflect the Jewish Mother Inquisition so I’m not grilled for three days regarding my love life, career, and fashion taste?
Regards,
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies
Dear AMNQITYNL,
Oh, if there is one thing I know about, it is the Jewish Mother Inquisition. When I first brought Morty home, I thought my mother’s questions would never end. She had to know every single little detail. “MA!” I’d say, “MA! What is with the third degree?!?! It’s like a freakin’ police interrogation in here.” “What do you know about police interrogations?” she’d ask me, “Is there anything you’d like to confess, young lady?!?” I promised myself that if I ever had kids, I would never turn into that woman. And I haven’t. When my children bring home dates, I only ask enough question to get the vital information. But you’d think I was my mother the way Frannie reacted when I started questioning her when she brought home her current guy. “MA!” she said, “MA! These questions are disgusting! You don’t need to know if it bends to the right or left!” “Look!” I tell her. “I just need to know that you’re happy!” And when my son, Jared, brings girls home, I have to ask enough question to know that they’re worth of my baby. He’s a doctor, you know. There are only so many handsome Jewish doctors to go around so you can’t go wasting them on some floozy that works in junior miss at Bloomindales! Any girl who gets my Jared has to have a future in front of her. And, of course, she’s got to know how to cook and take care of her man. I’m giving her the greatest gift I have to give – she better be able to take it on!
I’d tell you to do what I did when I had to face my mother. Be truthful, but evasive. If she asks more than she needs to know, just don’t answer. But whatever you do, don’t lie. If you end up marrying him, she’ll find out sometime that he’s actually not a partner at Vogel, Vonderlinden, and Timberland. That’s not a lie you can keep up forever. Trust me, I know! Also, if there’s anything big she needs to know, tell her up front. You don’t want her to be surprised later when you finally meet him at the Buddah Palace restaurant down on 68th and hand him your keys and tell him not to scratch the paint, only to find out the guy in the vest is actually your daughter’s boyfriend, not the valet. Could have warned me, Frannie! Apparently her new fellow isn’t a valet or anything. He works in telecommunications. As far as I’m concerned, he probably sells T-Mobile telephones at a kiosk in the mall. Bless, the grief kids will give you these days. I never!
From the desk of Liesl St. James - Moses, the Early Years
We are now moving on to the book of Exodus. We’re on book 2! Only 64 more to go! And as I warned, this is the part where it gets really Jewy, so I’ll change my spelling of “God” appropriately.
Picture it: Egypt. A long time ago.
The Pharaoh was looking around and though to himself “Man, there are waayyyyy too many Hebrews hanging around these days. Time to do a little ethnic cleansing.” So he ordered that all newborn Hebrew boys be tossed in the Nile for croc chow. Moses’ mom isn’t thrilled with the idea of serving her baby as a croc’s lunch, so she sets him in the water in a basket where he floats into a thicket of reeds.
Just as the baby is floating his way around the reeds, the Pharaoh’s daughter decides to go for a swim. Really? This is croc water after all, not exactly the place to take a refreshing dip. But no matter. She hears Moses talking to himself in baby chatter about being croc food and goes to investigate. She finds the baby floating in the reeds. She takes him home to the Pharaoh and does the traditional “daddy, daddy he followed me home, can I keep him?” bit. The Pharaoh says sure, but you have to feed him and walk him yourself. So Moses grows up in the household of the Pharaoh, like twins with the Pharaoh’s own son, Aaron.
Fast forward a few years. Moses knows he’s Hebrew (I don’t know how – just roll with it). One day he sees an Egyptian beating a Hebrew man. Being angry, he does the only logical thing – no, not call the police or make a citizen’s arrest. He kills the Egyptian. Realizing capital murder has repercussions, he flees to Midian.
While in Midian, he takes to herding sheep, as that’s what you do when you’re in exile. Suddenly, Moses sees a burning bush. Going to investigate, he discovers it to be G-d. G-d tells him that his name is G-d (Yahweh) and that Moses has work to do. He’s supposed to go back to Egypt and lead all the Israelites to Canaan, or the promised land. Moses, never one to argue with burning foliage, decided to go ahead and do what this mysterious G-o tells him to do.
So he goes back to Egypt. He and Aaron tell the Pharaoh to let G-d’s people go (insert Charleton Heston’s booming voice saying “LET MY PEOPLE GO!!” here) Pharaoh says no. Moses says “I SAID LET US GO!!” Pharaoh says “Bite me.”
“FINE!” Moses says. “I’ll bet G-d will smite you somehow. That’s what he does, you know! This is still the old testament, G-d is a bitch!”
And G-d does not disappoint. She sends a series of plagues to Egypt. There are 10 of them, and boy are they fantastic! Come on, Jessica. You know them. Say them with me.
First the rivers turn to blood, killing all the water life.
Then a plague of frogs infests the earth, raining frogs from the sky.
Then the lice and gnats invade.
Then the beasts
Then the livestock all come down with disease and die.
Then everybody gets covered with unhealable boils.
Then hail mixed with fire. Oh, hell yeah! Now we’re talking! HAIL AND FIRE!!! How completely awesome is that?!?!
Then locusts come and eat all the crops
Then darkness…no more sun
Then, the piece d’resistance. Death of all the first born sons of Egyptian families. That’s right. G-d pulled the whole “turn around is fair play” card and killed all the Egyptian babies – or, really just the boy babies, because those are the only ones that matter.
Finally, the Pharaoh decided the only way he can end all of this is to let the Israelites go. He figures if G-d thinks up any more plagues, they’ll involve penises falling off or something. And locusts were bad enough. So out the Hebrews go, off on their journey. And while they’re walking, Moses explains Passover to them. “Every year,” he says, “you’ll drip really gross wine on special plates to remember this. It’ll be epic. And you’ll rejoice in the fact that you didn’t have to kill your sons, you redeemed them.”
Next: Jews walking, and not just around the Boca Raton shopping center. (was that too far? That might have been too far. I think I’ll get fired now.)
Picture it: Egypt. A long time ago.
The Pharaoh was looking around and though to himself “Man, there are waayyyyy too many Hebrews hanging around these days. Time to do a little ethnic cleansing.” So he ordered that all newborn Hebrew boys be tossed in the Nile for croc chow. Moses’ mom isn’t thrilled with the idea of serving her baby as a croc’s lunch, so she sets him in the water in a basket where he floats into a thicket of reeds.
Just as the baby is floating his way around the reeds, the Pharaoh’s daughter decides to go for a swim. Really? This is croc water after all, not exactly the place to take a refreshing dip. But no matter. She hears Moses talking to himself in baby chatter about being croc food and goes to investigate. She finds the baby floating in the reeds. She takes him home to the Pharaoh and does the traditional “daddy, daddy he followed me home, can I keep him?” bit. The Pharaoh says sure, but you have to feed him and walk him yourself. So Moses grows up in the household of the Pharaoh, like twins with the Pharaoh’s own son, Aaron.
Fast forward a few years. Moses knows he’s Hebrew (I don’t know how – just roll with it). One day he sees an Egyptian beating a Hebrew man. Being angry, he does the only logical thing – no, not call the police or make a citizen’s arrest. He kills the Egyptian. Realizing capital murder has repercussions, he flees to Midian.
While in Midian, he takes to herding sheep, as that’s what you do when you’re in exile. Suddenly, Moses sees a burning bush. Going to investigate, he discovers it to be G-d. G-d tells him that his name is G-d (Yahweh) and that Moses has work to do. He’s supposed to go back to Egypt and lead all the Israelites to Canaan, or the promised land. Moses, never one to argue with burning foliage, decided to go ahead and do what this mysterious G-o tells him to do.
So he goes back to Egypt. He and Aaron tell the Pharaoh to let G-d’s people go (insert Charleton Heston’s booming voice saying “LET MY PEOPLE GO!!” here) Pharaoh says no. Moses says “I SAID LET US GO!!” Pharaoh says “Bite me.”
“FINE!” Moses says. “I’ll bet G-d will smite you somehow. That’s what he does, you know! This is still the old testament, G-d is a bitch!”
And G-d does not disappoint. She sends a series of plagues to Egypt. There are 10 of them, and boy are they fantastic! Come on, Jessica. You know them. Say them with me.
First the rivers turn to blood, killing all the water life.
Then a plague of frogs infests the earth, raining frogs from the sky.
Then the lice and gnats invade.
Then the beasts
Then the livestock all come down with disease and die.
Then everybody gets covered with unhealable boils.
Then hail mixed with fire. Oh, hell yeah! Now we’re talking! HAIL AND FIRE!!! How completely awesome is that?!?!
Then locusts come and eat all the crops
Then darkness…no more sun
Then, the piece d’resistance. Death of all the first born sons of Egyptian families. That’s right. G-d pulled the whole “turn around is fair play” card and killed all the Egyptian babies – or, really just the boy babies, because those are the only ones that matter.
Finally, the Pharaoh decided the only way he can end all of this is to let the Israelites go. He figures if G-d thinks up any more plagues, they’ll involve penises falling off or something. And locusts were bad enough. So out the Hebrews go, off on their journey. And while they’re walking, Moses explains Passover to them. “Every year,” he says, “you’ll drip really gross wine on special plates to remember this. It’ll be epic. And you’ll rejoice in the fact that you didn’t have to kill your sons, you redeemed them.”
Next: Jews walking, and not just around the Boca Raton shopping center. (was that too far? That might have been too far. I think I’ll get fired now.)
Now for a word from our sponsors...
Ok, the commercial opens up on two teens. Say 16 years old. They’re laying in your typical teenaged bedroom totally making out (picture Jessica about 11:00 Friday night). The room is lit by a lava lamp and some sort of neon sign. Clothes all over the place (though the teens are still fully clothed).
Girl teen: Ryan, I think I’m ready. I think we should do it.
Ryan (trying to be cool, but as a 16 year old boy, completely unable to be cool in such a situation, maybe his voice cracks a little bit) REALLY! OK! *ahem* I mean, if you think you’re ready baby. My parents won’t be back from their bowling league until 11 or so. Maybe we could even do it twice by then.
[the astute watcher notices the clock on the bedside says 10:38 and laughs knowing for a 16 year old boy, that’s about right]
Handsome middle aged man walks out of the closed (picture Pierce Brosnan): Parents, is this your worst nightmare? Knowing that you can’t always be there to watch your teens and keep them on the right track. Well, if you can’t always be there, there is someone who can. God can be there. God can make sure they make the right decisions.
[scene pans back to the kids on the bed, boy rushes to push off the comforter and is confronted by the bloody picture of Jesus on his sheets, bleeding and sweating, topped with a crown of throns dying on the cross}
Ryan [in more pain that he has ever felt]: Babe, I’m not so sure.
Girl teen: Yeah, I think I was supposed to be home by 10:30 anyway. I’m just going to head…
Pierce Brosnan: Now you can always make sure your teens keep to Christ’s path. With our new Keep It In Your Pants sheet set, you can make sure they know that even if you aren’t watching, God is. Our product line covers all major religions. Christian? Your child will sleep peacefully on Jesus’s face as he’s being executed. Buddhist? We’ve got Buddha! But he’s not looking peaceful and serene – he looks shocked and appalled. Hindu? Vishnu won’t be pleased. And for you Muslims and Jews, or anybody else who can’t draw a picture of their religious icon, we’ve got sheets with two kindly old grandparents looking at you as though they’d like to bake you some cookies and tell you a story about how much movies cost when they were kids. Or you could upgrade to our new deluxe model – you send us your pictures, we’ll print them on the sheets so you CAN always be there, watching your kids.
Ryan: Maybe we’ll get together tomorrow night…at your house…
Girl teen [thought bubble comes out of her head, showing her bedroom…she sees her father’s face on her sheets] maybe we’ll just go get ice cream at a public place and then go pray.
Ryan: Ok. That IS what Jesus would do.
Pierce Brosnan: Keep It In Your Pants. 100% effective, 100% of the time.
Girl teen: Ryan, I think I’m ready. I think we should do it.
Ryan (trying to be cool, but as a 16 year old boy, completely unable to be cool in such a situation, maybe his voice cracks a little bit) REALLY! OK! *ahem* I mean, if you think you’re ready baby. My parents won’t be back from their bowling league until 11 or so. Maybe we could even do it twice by then.
[the astute watcher notices the clock on the bedside says 10:38 and laughs knowing for a 16 year old boy, that’s about right]
Handsome middle aged man walks out of the closed (picture Pierce Brosnan): Parents, is this your worst nightmare? Knowing that you can’t always be there to watch your teens and keep them on the right track. Well, if you can’t always be there, there is someone who can. God can be there. God can make sure they make the right decisions.
[scene pans back to the kids on the bed, boy rushes to push off the comforter and is confronted by the bloody picture of Jesus on his sheets, bleeding and sweating, topped with a crown of throns dying on the cross}
Ryan [in more pain that he has ever felt]: Babe, I’m not so sure.
Girl teen: Yeah, I think I was supposed to be home by 10:30 anyway. I’m just going to head…
Pierce Brosnan: Now you can always make sure your teens keep to Christ’s path. With our new Keep It In Your Pants sheet set, you can make sure they know that even if you aren’t watching, God is. Our product line covers all major religions. Christian? Your child will sleep peacefully on Jesus’s face as he’s being executed. Buddhist? We’ve got Buddha! But he’s not looking peaceful and serene – he looks shocked and appalled. Hindu? Vishnu won’t be pleased. And for you Muslims and Jews, or anybody else who can’t draw a picture of their religious icon, we’ve got sheets with two kindly old grandparents looking at you as though they’d like to bake you some cookies and tell you a story about how much movies cost when they were kids. Or you could upgrade to our new deluxe model – you send us your pictures, we’ll print them on the sheets so you CAN always be there, watching your kids.
Ryan: Maybe we’ll get together tomorrow night…at your house…
Girl teen [thought bubble comes out of her head, showing her bedroom…she sees her father’s face on her sheets] maybe we’ll just go get ice cream at a public place and then go pray.
Ryan: Ok. That IS what Jesus would do.
Pierce Brosnan: Keep It In Your Pants. 100% effective, 100% of the time.
From the Desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
Where is a good place to meet men? I have tried everything – work, the grocery, you name it. I just can’t seem to stumble across Mr. Right. What do I do?
Regards,
Only the Lonely
Dear Lonely,
If I had a dime for every time someone asked me this question! I know how hard it can be. The key is you have to put yourself out there around the people you want to meet. You don’t want to be like my daughter, Frannie. She went dipping her nib in the company ink, if you know what I’m saying. Which wouldn’t usually be a problem, but she worked in the construction industry. All you meet there are construction workers and Mexicans! I know we need them here to build our buildings, but I’d prefer if she found herself someone a little more…not Mexican. Someone more like Ida Crumper’s son, Jared. Jared Crumper! Doesn’t the name just roll off the tongue!?!? Well, I know Ida wanted Jared to be a doctor or maybe a lawyer, but he actually got into parking. Parking! Can you believe it?!?! Well, it turns out there’s a lot of money in parking! He’s got himself a new wife now and he can keep her good. And I know from good! What I wouldn’t give to have Frannie meet a nice Jared Crumper. But while we’re talking about dipping your nib in the company ink, if you are going to do that, you should get yourself a nice receptionist job at a doctor’s office. Or maybe get one of those fancy paralegal degrees they’re always advertising during Guiding Light. Then you could spend your days working around doctors or lawyers. Maybe find yourself a nice Jewish doctor, like my son, Jared. Unlike Ida Crumper’s Jared, my Jared IS a doctor. You should see the way the ladies throw themselves at him – it’s shameful. But can I blame them? He’s adorable!
Other places to meet nice men – hang out at the Kosher deli up on 47th. The men there all seem very respectable. And you know if he’s shopping there alone, he doesn’t have a wife. So maybe he’s shopping for more than roast beef, if you catch my drift. Also, check the singles night at the synagogue. Magda’s son met his wife there. He’s not a doctor like my Jared, but he’s nothing to sneeze at with his fancy investment banking and such. Also, take some classes at the New School – maybe an Indian cooking class. That food is so spicy! Oh, the indigestion! But for the kids, they don’t have the heartburn I get from that stuff. Then you can show him that you’re domestic. Just be sure to put yourself out there. And it wouldn’t hurt to show a little bosoms. Don’t give away the farm, just a little peek – it couldn’t hurt!
Dear Stella,
Where is a good place to meet men? I have tried everything – work, the grocery, you name it. I just can’t seem to stumble across Mr. Right. What do I do?
Regards,
Only the Lonely
Dear Lonely,
If I had a dime for every time someone asked me this question! I know how hard it can be. The key is you have to put yourself out there around the people you want to meet. You don’t want to be like my daughter, Frannie. She went dipping her nib in the company ink, if you know what I’m saying. Which wouldn’t usually be a problem, but she worked in the construction industry. All you meet there are construction workers and Mexicans! I know we need them here to build our buildings, but I’d prefer if she found herself someone a little more…not Mexican. Someone more like Ida Crumper’s son, Jared. Jared Crumper! Doesn’t the name just roll off the tongue!?!? Well, I know Ida wanted Jared to be a doctor or maybe a lawyer, but he actually got into parking. Parking! Can you believe it?!?! Well, it turns out there’s a lot of money in parking! He’s got himself a new wife now and he can keep her good. And I know from good! What I wouldn’t give to have Frannie meet a nice Jared Crumper. But while we’re talking about dipping your nib in the company ink, if you are going to do that, you should get yourself a nice receptionist job at a doctor’s office. Or maybe get one of those fancy paralegal degrees they’re always advertising during Guiding Light. Then you could spend your days working around doctors or lawyers. Maybe find yourself a nice Jewish doctor, like my son, Jared. Unlike Ida Crumper’s Jared, my Jared IS a doctor. You should see the way the ladies throw themselves at him – it’s shameful. But can I blame them? He’s adorable!
Other places to meet nice men – hang out at the Kosher deli up on 47th. The men there all seem very respectable. And you know if he’s shopping there alone, he doesn’t have a wife. So maybe he’s shopping for more than roast beef, if you catch my drift. Also, check the singles night at the synagogue. Magda’s son met his wife there. He’s not a doctor like my Jared, but he’s nothing to sneeze at with his fancy investment banking and such. Also, take some classes at the New School – maybe an Indian cooking class. That food is so spicy! Oh, the indigestion! But for the kids, they don’t have the heartburn I get from that stuff. Then you can show him that you’re domestic. Just be sure to put yourself out there. And it wouldn’t hurt to show a little bosoms. Don’t give away the farm, just a little peek – it couldn’t hurt!
From the Desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
My dear fiancé recently returned from his bachelor party in Las Vegas. I know boys will be boys, but I’m concerned he did something out of line while he was out there. He is a very upstanding guy who has never given me a reason to worry. Should I question him on it or should I just chalk it up to boys will be boys?
Regards
Was My Man A Bad Bad Boy?
Dear WMMABBB,
If there is one thing I know about, it is boys acting stupid. But if there’s two things I know about, the other is trusting your man. Listen, you’re right. Boys will be boys. Right before Morty and I got married he says to me, he says “Stella, me and the boys are going to go into the city and have one last big blow out. Because after we’re all ball and chained, you won’t be letting me do that kind of thing!” I told him “Morty, last Hanukkah you had half a glass of manashevits wine and started hitting on my grandmother!” And you’d better believe that same night he went out with his guys, I stayed up waiting for the call to come bail him out. Well, what happened? Nothing. That’s what. They went to the city, they drank at some bar where they paid more than they should have for drinks. They wandered into one of those clubs where ladies dance for dollar bills, and they ended up coming home at 10:30. He wouldn’t admit it to me for years, it was only because his sister told me that I knew they had such a pathetic time.
And you know what, their stupidity doesn’t stop after you get married. Remember a few years ago when Morty traded in the Buick for a Miata? Hand to god, he came home with a freakin’ Miata. “Morty! How am I supposed to schlep the groceries around in that thing? There’s hardly enough room for my hair to fit in, much less bags from the A&P!” They never grow up, no they don’t. My son, Jared, I raised him right. He’s going to make some girl very happy some day! He’s a doctor, you know. And he’s a good boy. He listens to his mother. Not all boys are as good as my Jared. I’m not about to go airing other people’s dirty laundry in a public forum, but I’m certainly glad my Jared didn’t end up like Hadassa Silverman’s Artie. I’m not going to tell you about it, of course, but having to bail your son out at 3:00 after he got caught trying to solicit a male police officer for sex is embarrassing!! But we’re not going to air their dirty laundry.
Anyway, my point is this. Boys will be boys. And since you’ve known him all this time and he’s never given you a reason to worry, I wouldn’t start worrying now. He’s a good boy, he didn’t do anything that’s going to give you the clap or anything. Just let it go and move on. In a few years, he’ll get a taste of his own medicine when his beloved daughter calls him because she’s broken down on the expressway and when he goes to help her, he finds her decked out in 4 pounds of make up, about 3 inches of skirt, and about 2 cup sizes she didn’t have when she left the house. Children – nothing but problems! Except my son, Jared. He’s a doctor, you know?!
Dear Stella,
My dear fiancé recently returned from his bachelor party in Las Vegas. I know boys will be boys, but I’m concerned he did something out of line while he was out there. He is a very upstanding guy who has never given me a reason to worry. Should I question him on it or should I just chalk it up to boys will be boys?
Regards
Was My Man A Bad Bad Boy?
Dear WMMABBB,
If there is one thing I know about, it is boys acting stupid. But if there’s two things I know about, the other is trusting your man. Listen, you’re right. Boys will be boys. Right before Morty and I got married he says to me, he says “Stella, me and the boys are going to go into the city and have one last big blow out. Because after we’re all ball and chained, you won’t be letting me do that kind of thing!” I told him “Morty, last Hanukkah you had half a glass of manashevits wine and started hitting on my grandmother!” And you’d better believe that same night he went out with his guys, I stayed up waiting for the call to come bail him out. Well, what happened? Nothing. That’s what. They went to the city, they drank at some bar where they paid more than they should have for drinks. They wandered into one of those clubs where ladies dance for dollar bills, and they ended up coming home at 10:30. He wouldn’t admit it to me for years, it was only because his sister told me that I knew they had such a pathetic time.
And you know what, their stupidity doesn’t stop after you get married. Remember a few years ago when Morty traded in the Buick for a Miata? Hand to god, he came home with a freakin’ Miata. “Morty! How am I supposed to schlep the groceries around in that thing? There’s hardly enough room for my hair to fit in, much less bags from the A&P!” They never grow up, no they don’t. My son, Jared, I raised him right. He’s going to make some girl very happy some day! He’s a doctor, you know. And he’s a good boy. He listens to his mother. Not all boys are as good as my Jared. I’m not about to go airing other people’s dirty laundry in a public forum, but I’m certainly glad my Jared didn’t end up like Hadassa Silverman’s Artie. I’m not going to tell you about it, of course, but having to bail your son out at 3:00 after he got caught trying to solicit a male police officer for sex is embarrassing!! But we’re not going to air their dirty laundry.
Anyway, my point is this. Boys will be boys. And since you’ve known him all this time and he’s never given you a reason to worry, I wouldn’t start worrying now. He’s a good boy, he didn’t do anything that’s going to give you the clap or anything. Just let it go and move on. In a few years, he’ll get a taste of his own medicine when his beloved daughter calls him because she’s broken down on the expressway and when he goes to help her, he finds her decked out in 4 pounds of make up, about 3 inches of skirt, and about 2 cup sizes she didn’t have when she left the house. Children – nothing but problems! Except my son, Jared. He’s a doctor, you know?!
Friday, October 17, 2008
From The Desk of Liesl St. James - Build us a Tower, and not one on the UT Campus
So after the great flood that killed everything except what Noah had on the ark, people started to rebuild (what people? Weren’t they all killed?) The first city rebuilt was Babylon, and its king was a guy named Nimrod. Babylon was the perfect community – all of humanity united there and were all able to speak the same language. It was utopia. The people in Babylon decided they were so awesome they wanted to build a really really tall tower. Because that’s what you do when you’re awesome – you build giant buildings to represent it. We still do it today, no? Oh, yes we do!
So they started building this awesome tower. They wanted the top of it to reach heaven. And while they’re doing this, the builders are sitting around saying “MAN! When this is done, everybody is going to know who we are! We’re really going to make a name for ourselves! People are going to look at the tower and say ‘those guys who built that tower rock!’”
God looked down and saw what was happening. He though to himself “Oh, my Me! They’re not building that tower because they want to worship me and recognize how awesome I am! They are building that tower because they want to worship how awesome they are! What a bunch of selfish pricks! I feel a smiting coming on.”
So God smited them – he knocked down their big tower as he thought “HA! That’ll learn ‘em” Then, to add insult to injury, he made it so everybody spoke different languages and nobody could understand each other. Then he scattered the people far and wide across the earth so not only could they not find the people they loved, but if they did happen to find them, they couldn’t speak to them or understand them.
And that’s why there are different languages the world over. And anybody who knows different languages is going against God’s will by reuniting those smited at Babylon…EUROPEANS.
From The Desk of Liesl St. James - Water Water Everywhere
The next story we must all know and learn from is of Noah and the flood. Another great Genesis tale.
It goes a little something like this:
God looked down at what he created and sighed. “Kids these days! No respect for me. They just sit around having homosexual sex and worshipping golden cows and all sorts of other crap. Well, I’ll show them!”
So he found a drunk named Noah. I guess he was the best guy he could find, what with the planet being all morally bankrupt and whatnot. So he said “Noah! Put down that whiskey and build a boat. An ark. And put all the animals on it.”
Noah looked at his bottle of whiskey astounded. He’d been on binders before, but this was new. Maybe someone slipped some of that desert cactus that makes you all crazy in there during the distilling process.
“A boat! Blimey. I don’t want to build a boat. And animals?!?! My wife won’t let me wear shoes on the carpet, much less fill a boat with animals!”
“I said animals. Hop to.” Then god probably crashed a lightening bolt about 10 feet from Noah to show he was serious.
“But God. Animals? Two of them? What about the animals that don’t get along? Like lions and zebras? And Do I have to bring mosquitos? And my son is allergic to bee stings. Can we please leave those behind? And what about the honey badgers? They’re vicious – they don’t kill you, they just rip off your testicles! Do we really need to keep those around?”
“Are you questioning me?!?!” [another lightening bolt, this time a little closer – funny how in my version, the Christian god is kinda like Zeus]
“No, no. I’m not questioning you. I was just getting to work on my boat.”
So Noah built a boat. Why his wife stayed with him, I don’t know. So he loaded it was all sorts of fighting, reeking, pooping, angry animals. Then it started to rain. Finally, I guess, his wife got on board with the boat plan and grabbed the kids and climbed on board.
40 days and 40 nights it rained. Everything got wet, Noah’s wife’s hair was all frizzy. And the boat drifted around. The kids were in charge of keeping the animals that fought apart, though this was hard with, like, the lions who fight with everybody. And everybody dodged the honey badgers.
After 150 days, the ark came to rest on the tip of Mount Ararat. Noah sent a raven out to check things out. He came back after a while without news. Figuring it’s because ravens are sort of tools, he sent a dove to look. The dove came back and said there was no place to land. Sigh.
So they waited 150 more days. It seemed like the waters were receding. And Noah couldn’t stand another day with his wife. She was always bitching about how the house smelled like a barn and they didn’t have a yard for the kids and blah blah blah. “Listen, woman, I could have let you drown! I could have picked up that hot little red head down the street for this journey instead!” Noah would yell. The kids would go hide in the dog kennels to avoid the squabbling. Noah would then turn back to his project of turning 40 days of rain into alcohol.
So he sent another dove out. The dove came back with an olive branch in its beak. So he knew the waters had to have receded enough that the tree tops were showing. 150 more days and he sent another dove out. This one didn’t return. So he figured they were good to go. He opened up all the hatches and let the animals run free.
God looked down at the world now. Yes, all the wickedness was gone, but so was everything else. “Hmmmm…” he thought. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.” So he and Noah, who was now in charge of repopulating the earth, pinky swore that God would never hit the reboot button again. So live it up, kids! God PINKY SWORE!!! He won’t blight us out anymore!
It goes a little something like this:
God looked down at what he created and sighed. “Kids these days! No respect for me. They just sit around having homosexual sex and worshipping golden cows and all sorts of other crap. Well, I’ll show them!”
So he found a drunk named Noah. I guess he was the best guy he could find, what with the planet being all morally bankrupt and whatnot. So he said “Noah! Put down that whiskey and build a boat. An ark. And put all the animals on it.”
Noah looked at his bottle of whiskey astounded. He’d been on binders before, but this was new. Maybe someone slipped some of that desert cactus that makes you all crazy in there during the distilling process.
“A boat! Blimey. I don’t want to build a boat. And animals?!?! My wife won’t let me wear shoes on the carpet, much less fill a boat with animals!”
“I said animals. Hop to.” Then god probably crashed a lightening bolt about 10 feet from Noah to show he was serious.
“But God. Animals? Two of them? What about the animals that don’t get along? Like lions and zebras? And Do I have to bring mosquitos? And my son is allergic to bee stings. Can we please leave those behind? And what about the honey badgers? They’re vicious – they don’t kill you, they just rip off your testicles! Do we really need to keep those around?”
“Are you questioning me?!?!” [another lightening bolt, this time a little closer – funny how in my version, the Christian god is kinda like Zeus]
“No, no. I’m not questioning you. I was just getting to work on my boat.”
So Noah built a boat. Why his wife stayed with him, I don’t know. So he loaded it was all sorts of fighting, reeking, pooping, angry animals. Then it started to rain. Finally, I guess, his wife got on board with the boat plan and grabbed the kids and climbed on board.
40 days and 40 nights it rained. Everything got wet, Noah’s wife’s hair was all frizzy. And the boat drifted around. The kids were in charge of keeping the animals that fought apart, though this was hard with, like, the lions who fight with everybody. And everybody dodged the honey badgers.
After 150 days, the ark came to rest on the tip of Mount Ararat. Noah sent a raven out to check things out. He came back after a while without news. Figuring it’s because ravens are sort of tools, he sent a dove to look. The dove came back and said there was no place to land. Sigh.
So they waited 150 more days. It seemed like the waters were receding. And Noah couldn’t stand another day with his wife. She was always bitching about how the house smelled like a barn and they didn’t have a yard for the kids and blah blah blah. “Listen, woman, I could have let you drown! I could have picked up that hot little red head down the street for this journey instead!” Noah would yell. The kids would go hide in the dog kennels to avoid the squabbling. Noah would then turn back to his project of turning 40 days of rain into alcohol.
So he sent another dove out. The dove came back with an olive branch in its beak. So he knew the waters had to have receded enough that the tree tops were showing. 150 more days and he sent another dove out. This one didn’t return. So he figured they were good to go. He opened up all the hatches and let the animals run free.
God looked down at the world now. Yes, all the wickedness was gone, but so was everything else. “Hmmmm…” he thought. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.” So he and Noah, who was now in charge of repopulating the earth, pinky swore that God would never hit the reboot button again. So live it up, kids! God PINKY SWORE!!! He won’t blight us out anymore!
From the Desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
My sister called me yesterday to tell me she had been fired from her job. Her first request was to move in with me. Stella, I live in a small house with my husband, 2 dogs and a cat. I’m not sure I could handle 3 dogs, 3 people, and 1 cat. Plus, my sister has a history of moving in with people “until she gets on her feet” only to stay for over a year. What should I do?
Suddenly Stuck with a Sister
Dear Stuck,
What is wrong with kids these days? When I was younger, you lived in your parents’ house until you got married. Then you moved out. And you stayed out. None of this bouncing back business. You made sure you had a good job, or you married someone with a good job (like a doctor or lawyer) so you wouldn’t have to move back home. Kids today no nothing of this. Now they’re all moving back home or moving in with whoever will put a roof over their head. And are they grateful? No! Of course not. All they do is complain about how you don’t like the fact that they’re dating Mexicans. I’m, of course, speaking of my daughter Frannie. When she went away to college, I thought I had finally let all my little birdies fly free. I converted her room to an exercise room. It was fabulous. There was a little treadmill, this little rowing machine, a little television, and a life sized poster of Barbara Streisand. I was going to use it every day to get rid of a few of those cherry cheese blintzes that had found their way to my hips through the years. I even hoped that maybe Morty would use it to get rid of the gut he had gained himself. Then I figured eventually we’d sell the house, get a nice little condo down on Boca, and live out our golden years together.
What happened? Liberal arts degrees, that’s what happened. While my son, Jared, studied hard and became a doctor, Frannie decided to get a general liberal arts degree. I have to admit, I didn’t push her like I should. You don’t have to be an Einstein to marry a nice doctor, you just have to show a little bosoms. So I guess I let it slide. Fast forward 4 years, no nice doctor friends, she’s dating some Mexican or something, and she’s moved back into my place. So Morty and I had to move all the exercise stuff into his den, I had to put my poster of Barbara back in the safe deposit box, and she comes back home hanging up beaded curtains and posters about freeing whales or saving Tibet or some such business. 2 years now, I can’t get my exercise room and that little place in Boca is looking farther and farther away.
So my point is, I know from unwanted house guests. But I also know what family is about – it’s about taking care of each other even when you don’t want to. Really, you don’t have a choice. You have to take her in because you can’t have your own sister living on the street. That would be embarrassing. I remember when Barry Goldfinkle’s son got involved in that unfortunate meth problem and was on the news after he was arrested for giving oral favors for money in a public bathroom in the park. You’d have liked to never seen Barry’s face again at temple, even on high holy days. I can only thank God his dear wife, Edith, had already passed away so she didn’t have to know the embarrassment her own flesh and blood brought to the family. Oy, that poor Edith is probably rolling over in her grave, God rest her unfortunate soul. So unless you want to see your sister on the 11:00 news being pushed into the back of a police car for something like that, then you suck it up, let her move it, and just picture how you’ll tear down her silly posters and put up your Barbara poster once she’s gone again.
Dear Stella,
My sister called me yesterday to tell me she had been fired from her job. Her first request was to move in with me. Stella, I live in a small house with my husband, 2 dogs and a cat. I’m not sure I could handle 3 dogs, 3 people, and 1 cat. Plus, my sister has a history of moving in with people “until she gets on her feet” only to stay for over a year. What should I do?
Suddenly Stuck with a Sister
Dear Stuck,
What is wrong with kids these days? When I was younger, you lived in your parents’ house until you got married. Then you moved out. And you stayed out. None of this bouncing back business. You made sure you had a good job, or you married someone with a good job (like a doctor or lawyer) so you wouldn’t have to move back home. Kids today no nothing of this. Now they’re all moving back home or moving in with whoever will put a roof over their head. And are they grateful? No! Of course not. All they do is complain about how you don’t like the fact that they’re dating Mexicans. I’m, of course, speaking of my daughter Frannie. When she went away to college, I thought I had finally let all my little birdies fly free. I converted her room to an exercise room. It was fabulous. There was a little treadmill, this little rowing machine, a little television, and a life sized poster of Barbara Streisand. I was going to use it every day to get rid of a few of those cherry cheese blintzes that had found their way to my hips through the years. I even hoped that maybe Morty would use it to get rid of the gut he had gained himself. Then I figured eventually we’d sell the house, get a nice little condo down on Boca, and live out our golden years together.
What happened? Liberal arts degrees, that’s what happened. While my son, Jared, studied hard and became a doctor, Frannie decided to get a general liberal arts degree. I have to admit, I didn’t push her like I should. You don’t have to be an Einstein to marry a nice doctor, you just have to show a little bosoms. So I guess I let it slide. Fast forward 4 years, no nice doctor friends, she’s dating some Mexican or something, and she’s moved back into my place. So Morty and I had to move all the exercise stuff into his den, I had to put my poster of Barbara back in the safe deposit box, and she comes back home hanging up beaded curtains and posters about freeing whales or saving Tibet or some such business. 2 years now, I can’t get my exercise room and that little place in Boca is looking farther and farther away.
So my point is, I know from unwanted house guests. But I also know what family is about – it’s about taking care of each other even when you don’t want to. Really, you don’t have a choice. You have to take her in because you can’t have your own sister living on the street. That would be embarrassing. I remember when Barry Goldfinkle’s son got involved in that unfortunate meth problem and was on the news after he was arrested for giving oral favors for money in a public bathroom in the park. You’d have liked to never seen Barry’s face again at temple, even on high holy days. I can only thank God his dear wife, Edith, had already passed away so she didn’t have to know the embarrassment her own flesh and blood brought to the family. Oy, that poor Edith is probably rolling over in her grave, God rest her unfortunate soul. So unless you want to see your sister on the 11:00 news being pushed into the back of a police car for something like that, then you suck it up, let her move it, and just picture how you’ll tear down her silly posters and put up your Barbara poster once she’s gone again.
From The Desk of Liesl St. James - Cain and Able bake Cinnabons
Maybe learning your next Bible story will help you pass the time.
When we last left our friends Adam, Eve, Cain, Abel, and Seth, they had been cast out of the garden of Eden for eating the forbidden fruit.
When next we find them, Cain and Abel have gone forth into the world and found themselves wives (WHERE?!?! I don’t know. Don’t question the bible!!)
Cain has become a farmer.
Abel has become a shepherd.
Independently, they decide they’re going to go ahead and offer up some sweet sacrifices to god. Why? I don’t know. He banished their parents to eternal struggle and toil for eating figs. Not exactly the god I’d be sending presents to.
Cain grew some wheat, cut it down, and offered it up. “Look, God! Look what I made you! Some sweet assed wheat! You could totally make some cinnamon buns with this!” God looked down, examined the wheat and said “Meh. It’s ok, I guess. But overall, it’s a pretty crappy sacrifice for someone who made all this. I think you could do better.”
Abel went to his herd and slaughtered a fat sheep as a sacrifice. “Look, God! I slaughtered you this bitchin’ sheep! You could totally make sheep bacon with this, and sheep jerky, and lamb with mint sauce. It’s awesome!” God replied “DAAAAAAMMMMMNNNN!!!! You’re right. That is awesome. That is easily the best sacrifice I’ve seen all day. Way better than those crops your brother gave me. I am going to bless you with a fruitful wife and fat sheep and all sorts of other goodies. You rock, Abel!”
Cain saw all this and got pissed. Reject my sacrifice but like his? Hell to the no! So he rang up Abel. “Say, bro. Let’s go look at my sweet fields.” Abel, always being one to look at fields, said “Sure! I’ll be right over.”
So Cain took him out in the field and killed him. Some say with the jaw of an ox. How you kill someone with the jaw of an ox, I don’t know. And this was the first murder. But instantly Cain felt awful for what he did and started moping like a whiny teenager. God saw this and was all “What’s up, Cain? Where’s your brother?” To which Cain replied “Leave me alone! I’m not my brother’s keeper!” God said “Caaaaaiiiinnnnn, where’s Abel?” “Ok, I killed him.” “Yeah, I know. I’m God.” “I just want to die!” said Cain. “Well tough cookies!” said God. And he put a mark on Cain’s head that let the world know (what world?!?! There were only 5 of them!!) that nobody would ever be allowed to kill him. Then he cast Cain out into the world and made him wander in his shame and regret for his entire life and nobody was ever allowed to kill him because it was written on his forehead “don’t kill this guy, [signed] God.”
From the Desk of Stella Goldberg
Dear Stella is an advice column written by Stella Goldberg – mother, wife, and all around dispenser of wisdom. You may send your questions to her at 1445 Jupiter Street, Queens, NY 10045.
Dear Stella,
I don’t know what to do. My daughter is seeing someone. Fantastic, right? Well, he’s not from money, not from college, not from this country, and not a Jew. I know these things shouldn’t bother me, but they do. What can I do? Do I get over it and accept it or do I guilt her into marrying a nice Jewish doctor?
Sincerely,
Not that There’s Anything Wrong with That in Detroit
Dear NTTAWWTID,
Oh, who hasn’t been there? I remember one year when little Frannie brought home some boy from her college. He was Asian! I thought I’d die! I mean, I love kung pow chicken as much as the next woman, though it does give me some wicked indigestion. I figured, though, that it was a phase and she’d move onto a nice Jewish doctor soon enough. Wouldn’t you know if they aren’t still together 3 years later?!? I’ve come to love him like my own son…ok, maybe not my own son, but close enough. Speaking of my son, did I tell you that he’s a doctor?! He is! Here, I’ve got a picture of him in his snappy white coat and everything! Anyway, I’ve come to love her boyfriend as much as the next. And now, not only that, I’m a little upset that he hasn’t bothered to put a ring on her finger. I mean, if they’re going to be together this long, they may as well make it legal and start making some grandbabies! So what if my daughter would be named Frannie Whong. I just have to accept that you love who you love. Though it wouldn’t hurt to love that person with a nice wedding upstate, maybe. Or maybe we could get the Plaza! Oh, a nice Manhattan wedding. Very classy. You know, we’ve been saving for her wedding since she was just a little girl. It’s going to be done right. Not like that affair Tillie Westenbaum put on a few years ago. I don’t want to say it was tacky, but I still get heartburn thinking about that chicken she served. And Jordan almonds?!? Who serves Jordan almonds these days? It was like walking back into a wedding in 1972.
Anyway, there are only so many handsome Jewish doctors to go around. I should know. My son, Jared, is one of them, and you should see the way the ladies chase after him. I hope he’ll settle down with a nice Jewish girl and start making some babies. But right now, I just have to accept that both my children will love who they love, and in encourage you to do the same. I mean, would you rather not have any grandchildren at all?!?
From The Desk of Liesl St. James - In the Beginning
To help with your conversion, I will provide you a condensed version of the bible to study.
And remember, today’s commandment is “thou shall not steal”.
We’ll start at the beginning, Genesis 1:1 –
At first there was nothing. Then God created the earth and heavens. It was good.
So God created light. It was good. (NB: because God created light after he created earth, then there is no possible way for the earth to rotate around the sun – earth had to be in the center. PEOPLE DIED OVER THIS!!!)
So God created land and ocean. It was good.
God created fish. It was good.
God created animals. It was good.
God created man – a guy named Adam out of dirt. It was good. God took a nap.
Adam frolicked around, but then got bored. So he said he wanted a plaything. God took one of Adam’s ribs out of his chest and made it into a woman. He told Adam he was in charge of the woman, he had to keep her in line. (NB: For centuries, women were believe to have an extra rib because of this story) Adam said “Gotcha.”
God built Eden for them to frolic around in. And he put this big fig tree right in the center and said “Folks, you can do whatever you want, just don’t touch the fig tree.”
Adam said “Coolbeans.”
Eve said “Hmmm…don’t touch the fig tree…maybe I’ll just take a look.” When she went to look, a serpent told her to eat the fig. So she did. And she fed it to Adam as well. And God got pissed. He said “Listen people, I told you not to do ONE THING and you did it! Now I’m pissed. Out you go!” And he kicked them out of Eden. They realized they were naked and had to cover themselves. Then they had to toil and slave away for their living because God’s free ride was over. And as punishment to all women for Eve’s indiscretion, childbirth hurts like a motherf****ker for every woman ever. Adam and Eve then toiled and slaved away east of Eden for the rest of their lives, producing three sons – Cain, Able, and Seth.
Tomorrow, we’ll enjoy the story of Can and Able. It’ll be bloody, folks, so bring your umbrellas!
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