Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

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Hat, Dog

I’m so excited for you. New dog.

“Oh, yeah. Now, uh, we get to name him.”

Got a short list?

“Thinking about giving him one of those scary names. King or Killer or Bill Cosby.”

Don’t call the dog Bill Cosby.

“We’ll see. I usually let my dogs name themselves. They, you know, suggest their own.”

How did Otis suggest his name?

“That is a common misconception. He wasn’t called ‘Otis.’ It was ‘OTUS.’ Short for Of The United States.”

Uh-huh.

“Like POTUS.”

I get it. And why did you name him that?

“Well, he was definitely of the United States. He, uh, never left the country, actually. Not even to Canada.”

Sure.

“How about OJ?”

For the dog?

“Yeah.”

Bobby, please don’t name your new pet after infamous African-American men.

“Bumpy Johnson?”

That would be okay.

“Glad I have your approval.”

Here’s The Dog, Star

Is that a puppy?

“It is.”

A puppy-wuppy?

“He’s wuppish, I’ll give you that.”

How many dogs is this?

“Well, I got the fluffy one and she’s great. She’s one of the mixes. Snickerdoodle.”

Nope.

“Toasterstroodle.”

Similarly delicious, similarly wrong.

“You know the one. White. Dog-sized.”

Yes, Bobby. Your dog.

“She’s a good dog. Top to bottom, but she’s too damn friendly. The youngest girl is gonna be going away to school soon, and my wife–”

Natasha Monster.

“–is gonna be alone in the house. So, uh, this here’s an ass-biting dog.”

German Shepherds are sticklers about protecting their people.

“Oh, yeah. Roman legions used to sic ’em on barbarians. German Shepherd doesn’t like you, it’ll let you know about it.”

You’re a good husband, Bobby.

“Sure, sure. Plus, you know, I got double the amount of dogs now. There’s nothing but upside here for me.”

Congratulations.

Going To California

This was January of ’69, the same month that Led Zeppelin I came out, and it was the group’s first visit to San Francisco. It was Percy and Bonzo’s first time in America. The lads were playing Fillmore West on the 9th through the 12th and one of those afternoons they made their way to Herb Greene’s warehouse/studio and posed for some glamour shots that Rolling Stone could run. Robert Plant attempted to smolder, but was stymied by his curls. John Bonham mostly just stood there and looked like a secondary character from Get Carter.

And, of course, there is always a Dead connection.

All of the major acts that came to San Francisco bounced off the Dead in one way or another: they opened for Miles, bailed on their own show to see Cream, got stoned and jammed with Fleetwood Mac, snubbed Hendrix (Garcia, supposedly), and lent the Stones equipment on several occasions (one of them Altamont). The Dead did not interact musically with Led Zeppelin, and we have no record of any band members attending the Zeppelin performance. They did not party together. No mud sharks were harmed in the making of this Rock and Roll anecdote.

No, the Dead and Zeppelin came into contact at this very photo shoot, possibly right after this picture was taken. Herb Greene was double-booked that day, you see. First the Hammer of the Gods, and then the Eyes of the World. Led Zeppelin, being new to the Rock Star game but picking it up with great speed, showed up late and so Herb was still with them when the Dead ambled in to sit for the session that would produce some of their most iconic photos.

Like this one:

See how they’re all bundled up? January in San Francisco. Same day and location as the Zeppelin pictures.

Anyway, the Dead is waiting for Herbie (everyone called him Herbie) to finish up with these damnable foreigners coming over here and stealing all our women, and they got to entertaining themselves. Joints were smoked and the mood became grabasstic and loose; a dice game may or may not have broken out; Mickey stole TC’s cane and starting whacking people in the hamstrings. This was all accompanied by ample conversating–the Dead always was a chatty bunch–and Pig finds himself yakking about this or perhaps that, and then finds his points being discounted by his partner in discourse. Probably Bobby. He’s hardheaded. So, to add emphasis to his opinions, the ol’ Pig pulls out the little .22 he carries and fires a few rounds into the concrete floor. The band was, at worst, mildly startled; Pig did that shit a lot.

The other band, however, lost their British shit. In 1969, the only person in England legally allowed to carry a gun was the Queen. That was what her purse was for. The cops didn’t have guns, and the criminals didn’t have guns, and even the gun shops didn’t have guns. You could have hunting rifles, but they had to be a thousand years old and named Throckwacket or something. The UK had such tight gun control laws that KISS were not allowed to perform their hit song Love Gun until 1987, and by then no one cared.

Poor Percy. He’s only 19 years old in the picture, and it’s his first time in America and HOLY SHIT THEY’RE SHOOTING. Bonham is only a little older, and it’s also his first time in the country, but fuck him.

Led Zeppelin fled the session, and the two bands never met.

If you’re thinking about doing Thoughts on the Led Zeppelin, I’ll set the house on fire. 

Get the matches.

Fuck.

Dynamic Duos

“Now, uh, did Hall adopt you when your parents died?”

“Huh?”

“You know, train you to fight crime via blue-eyed soul?”

“I wasn’t a Robin, Bobby. Daryl and I were equal partners.”

“Most Robins tell themselves that. Another question.”

“Go to it.”

“Did she actually eat the men?”

“The Maneater?”

“She’s the one.”

“No. Just a metaphor.”

“I was fairly certain. Cannibalism doesn’t seem like one of your themes.”

“It wasn’t.”

“More questions.”

“No problem.”

“Is the ‘that’ in I Can’t Go For That the same ‘that’ as in Meatloaf’s seminal I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)? Sounds like you and Meat are on the same page as far as whatever ‘that’ is.”

“Can I pass on this question?”

“Sure, sure. When you wrote Private Eyes, what came first: the music, the lyrics, or the hand claps?”

“I think I had the riff first.”

“Ah. Is the Rich Girl the one from She’s Gone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Because that’s a reason to write a sad song right there. When a chick walks out on you, it hurts, but a rich one leaving is painful.”

“I guess, but they’re not about the same woman.”

“Missed a chance to get the Hall & Oates Universe going.”

“Again: I guess.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I should take this.”

“Aren’t we playing a song right now?”

“Weir here.”

“HAIRY GARCIA, DO YOU KNOW ELON MUSK’S NUMBER? I NEED TO PLUG MY BRAIN INTO HIS AND MAKE BEAUTY!”

“Oates, it’s for you.”

“Oh, I wonder who that could be. This is totes Oates.”

“OATES, I NEED YOU TO PUT ON AN RC COLA COSTUME AND SNEAK INTO DISNEYLAND WITH ME!”

“Is this Kanye? Dude, you need to see a doctor.”

“I HAVE MASTERED DOCTORISHNESS! MEDICINE IS MINE TO COMMAND! HOW ARE YOU COMING WITH THE RC COLA COSTUME?”

“I’m not.”

“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY! I AM YOUR HALL NOW!”

“Hanging up.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Bobby?”

“Oates?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“That was Ye.”

A Partial Transcript Of The White House Press Briefing, 10/3/18

WHITE HOUSE BRIEFING ROOM – MORNING

“Y’all need to settle. I ain’t gonna tell you again. Zip it up back there or I’ll throw my sensible pumps right at your face. We got a lot t’ get through today, an’ they’re doin’ All-You-Can-Eat cheddar biscuits down by the Red Lobster again, so I’m outta here at three. By th’ latest. I’d prefer to’ve tucked in already, but you liars an’ prevaricators need all y’all’s asses wiped for you. So now Mama don’t get her cheddar biscuits. Thank you, Jews and Jew-tolerators.”

“Hey!”

“Acosta, I’ll pistol-whip you if you start with your nonsense today.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah, but ‘Jews and Jew-tolerators’ is unacceptable.”

“I never said that.”

“It was not even ten seconds ago.”

“Fake news.”

“Oh, it’s gonna be one of those press conferences.”

“I’m gonna continue helpin’ President Trump make America great, if you don’t mind. I have some announcements an’ then I have a prepared statement to read. First of all, NAFTA has been dissolved and replaced with a new deal called DONALD. All the details are the same, but the name is much stronger and the President responded very strongly to the name. We gonna issue a release on what the letters stand for real soon, too.

“Second: depending on well someone’s meeting with his lawyers go this afternoon, we may be at war with Iran real soon. Just a heads-up on that one. Watch this space.

“Third, we are aware of Kanye and his patriotism.

“Fourth, the President will be testing the Emergency Alert Service shortly. I will now read from a statement that I did not write.

“Ahem.

“When they attack the beautiful, wonderful Brett Kavanaugh, who went to Yale, the Democrats are attacking America and the flag. Some of the smartest people are from Yale. Penn is as good. Penn is as good, some would say better in some areas, but Yale is tops. These Democrats hate him because he respects families. No one, no one you’re ever gonna meet, respects families like Brett Kavanaugh.

“What they’re doing to this fine man’s reputation should be criminal. Chuck Schumer, Cryin’ Chuck, who is the lowest scumbag moneysucking weasel you’ve ever met, he begs for money like a dog, says that no matter what he hears, he’s voting ‘no.’ How is that not treason? The judge came out and he was so strong in his denials, and to say that? To say you’re voting ‘no’ no matter what? That might be treason.

“Ahem.

“John?”

“Sarah, three of the Senators necessary for Judge Kavanaugh’s confirmation have expressed disgust at the President’s imitation of Dr. Ford at his rally in Mississippi last night.”

“I would disagree with your characterization. President Trump don’t do no imitations. You thinkin’ ’bout Rich Little.”

“Rich Little? How old are you?”

“Huckabees are ageless. The President wasn’t doin’ no impression. What he was doin’ was statin’ the facts of the case in a clear an’ concise manner. He had t’ dumb it down a l’il bit; he was in Mississippi, after all. An’ so what he did was speak to the people in their language, which is why th’ Democrats wanna destroy him.”

“The President of the United mocked a woman accusing his Supreme Court nominee of attempted rape and you’re blaming it on the crowd?”

“I would also disagree with ‘mock.’ Like I said, he was statin’ facts.”

“But the things he said weren’t true.”

“Facts ain’t gotta be true to be facts.”

“They do.”

“Not no more. Blake?”

“Sarah, does the White House believe that the FBI has enough time to conduct a thorough background check on Judge Kavanaugh in the short time they’ve been given?”

“The FBI is the world’s preeminent investigative body, and they can do just ’bout anything.”

“Are you talking about the same FBI the President regularly accuses of bias, incompetence, and malfeasance?”

“I do not believe that President Trump ever used the word ‘malfeasance.’ April Ryan, you gonna ask a question right away, or you gotta kneel before?”

“You’re getting a beating before you leave this job, young lady.”

“You know where I am. Go ‘head with your question.”

“The New York Times is reporting a heavily-documented story about the shady deals and tax fraud engaged in by the Trump family during the 80’s and 90’s. The White House has issued a general denial, but can you tell me specifically what was wrong with the article?”

“First off, it was too dang long. Need a nap halfway through. Real snoozer.”

“Anything else?”

“The Times article was characteristic of the sad decline of a once-great newspaper. Now all they do is lie. And fail. These allegations is all rehashed, and have been dealt with, and–once again–the article was just too dang long. Shoulda serialized that sucker.”

“Specifically, though.”

“That libelous piece of trash article was a slur on the good names of Fred and Mary Trump! Might as well’ve gone down t’ the graveyard and dug ’em up and become feculent upon their earthly remains.”

DIXIE PLAYS WHILE A MAN SITTING SIDE-SADDLE RIDES IN NOISE

“Senator Graham. We weren’t expecting–”

“IT’S SICK! That’s sick! The New York Times is sick! How could you do that to those wond’rful people, you monsters? You’re no better than the ghouls of the piney woods that haunted my dreams as a sickly and artistic child! Every word of that filthy piece of garbage was a desecration of Fred and Margie!”

“Mary.”

“Whatever. YOU’RE GONNA BURN IN HELL. All y’all. For trying to destroy this shining beacon of strength and glory, Donald Trump. You hate him, all y’all. If I could, I’d have cigarettes put on on your faces. The Trump family is good American stock and you just wanna tear it all down. All y’all are gettin’ cigarettes to the face.”

DIXIE PLAYS WHILE A MAN SITTING SIDE-SADDLE RIDES OUT NOISE

“That happened. Who all has another question? Anyone but Acosta.”

“Sarah, why won’t you call on me?”

“Because you’re a troublemaker and I wanna buy a lion an’ set it on you.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“It’s necessary as all get-out. Lion’s gotta eat, an’ I gotta watch you die.”

“Jesus.”

“Boy, you blaspheme one more time, an’ I’ll stomp your guts.”

“Sarah, I want to follow up about the tax fraud article.”

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“Sarah, the President just sent the entire country an emergency message that reads Jim Acosta is Fake News.”

“Yeah, he’s probably gonna be using that to rage-tweet now. We all saw it comin’.”

“Can you please answer my question about the tax fraud? The Times is reporting that the Trump family engaged in–

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“–persistent patterns of…oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Sarah, the President just sent the entire country an emergency message that reads $1000 to the first person to punch Jim Acosta in the Fake News head!”

“Wow. He just turned your life into a Purge-type deal, didn’t he?”

ROOMFUL OF PHONES MAKING THE EMERGENCY ALERT NOISE NOISE

“This one says Sarah, go punch Jim Acosta in the head.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be needed in a meeting real soon, so I’m gonna wrap this up. No more questions, an’ God bless President Trump.”

Go Gators*

All of this, whatever it is, is supposed to be about the Grateful Dead–that’s what it says in the header, at least, so I’m gonna recommend a show. That’s what Grateful Dead blogs do.

Go listen to 4/15/71 from Allegheny State College in Meadville, PA; this was one of the Second Great Quintet shows, just the five original boys playing all growly-like and real loud, too. Also out-of-tune–Garcia spent almost the entirety of 1971 out-of-tune–but what does that matter? It’s a Dead show, yay.

Have you even listened to this particular performance?

Maybe. I see no reason why I wouldn’t have, but I cannot attest in the positive. There’s a Second That Emotion on there, and I love the version from 4/29/71, so I might have noticed that and thrown the show on. If it were a ’93, I could state without prejudice I had not heard it. What I’m saying here is this: could you repeat the question?

You just picked a show at random, didn’t you?

Not random. I wanted one from the ’71 five-piece.

Semi-random.

I don’t think you can modify the word random. It’s like unique or ultimate.

And you are not currently listening to this show? Because sometimes you recommend shows that you’re only two or three songs into.

I am listening to the ’73 Portland show from the new box set for the seventh time.

Acceptable excuse.

Gonna throw that rugged ’71 rodeo on directly after my silky-smooth ’73 massage, though.

Ew.

I stand by the sentence.

I stand by my “ew.”

Shush. Sharp-eyed Enthusiasts will note that Garcia is playing the proto-Alembic that he called Peanut; this photo purports to be from the Manhattan Center shows of earlier in the month, so it is possible that he’s still using the guitar for this gig.  (He would soon switch over to a blond ’57 Strat. I’ve always relied on the long-since abandoned Dozin.com’s guitar timeline, but it’s a bit vague.) Sharper-eyed Enthusiasts will note Pig’s potato salad.

“Hey! Get yer eyes offa there!”

Oh, hey, Pig.

“Don’t be peepin’ and peerin’ at my potatoes, now! The ol’ Pig swings hard, but he don’t swing that way!”

I didn’t intend any offense, Pig.

“An’ I didn’t take none! Can’t help it if I’m beautiful!

True.

“The ol’ Pig is used to male attention. Sometimes my woman is givin’ me troubles. She’s tryin’ me! I gotta get out, take a walk, maybe find a friend. So, I go walkin’.”

Yeah.

“I go here and there, troubles on my mind.”

Take your time.

“And here they come! This one wanna know if I got the time. That one wanna know I got a match. The men all wanna know, y’know?”

Sing your song, Pig.

“And I tell ’em, ‘Boys, these field ain’t yours for plowing, but you c’n watch the sun set over ’em!’ An’ I keep on walkin’!”

That’s a very on-brand way of rejecting an advance, Pig.

“I got a way o’ talkin’.”

You do.

 

 

*The mascot of Allegheny State College in Meadville, Pennsylvania, is the Gator, and that’s just wrong. There are no alligators in Pennsylvania, and if there were, Pennsylvanians would kill and skin and eat them all immediately; they’d probably squirt cheez wiz all over the place and call them cheezgators and make Presidential candidates eat them. Everyone in Pennsylvania is a monster.

I’m not lying. Look:

Fuck you for calling me a liar, jackass.

HEY!

No, it’s Go Time.

Don’t capitalize shit like that.

Fuck you, too, prick-dick. I’m gonna fight the Enthusiasts.

That makes less than no sense.

I wanted to do the press conference bit.

So go write that.

Okay.

Shame, Several (Entirely Inconsequential) Thoughts On

Do not slut-shame, Enthusiasts. Sluts are wonderful. Most people won’t fuck you, but a slut will.

Do not body-shame, Enthusiasts. I don’t know you, but you’re gross, too. You are, at various locations, too plentiful and too scarce. You are sloppy and pimpled.

Do not kink-shame, Enthusiasts. There are those who prefer an elaborate and specific wardrobe to accompany their sweaty fumblings. Some fuckers like feet. What’s it bothering you if you don’t have to watch?

Do not low down and dirty-shame, Enthusiasts. You will make Evelyn “Champagne” King sad.

Do not fat-shame, Enthusiasts. Especially if you are a great hoggish boombalatty yourself. Don’t fat-shame, fatty.

Do not Tajik-shame, Enthusiasts. Those poor bastards have enough problems without you roasting them. Plus, they’re real tough so they’ll probably kill you if you fuck with them. Y’know what? Just avoid Tajikistan altogether.

How long do you intend to keep this going?

Are you asking about this post, or in general?

The first thing.

Should I stop?

You shouldn’t have started.

But now I have momentum.

One tends to pick that up when going downhill.

Ow.

The Second Great Quintet (Which Was Also The First)

From 2/18/71, when Mickey left the band, to 10/19/71, when Keith made his debut, there were not enough Grateful Deads. I mean, really: this is absurd. We need at least two or three more musician, not to mention the fact that this is nowhere near the proper amount of amps. We have here a normal, human amount of amps; that’s not the Dead’s way of doing things. There are also no random naked children wandering around the stage.

It’s just a mess.

Beyond Rocktober…

Cocktober Just what you’d imagine. Nothing but floppin’ wieners.

Spocktober Celebrating everyone’s favorite Vulcan.

Tuvoktober Celebrating everyone’s third-favorite Vulcan. (The hot one in the catsuit from Enterprise is everyone’s second-favorite.)

Locketober All pumpkins are free and equal by the Hand of the Creator.

Hocktober All skeletons are required to grow playoff beards.

Doctober A month dedicated to Dwight Gooden in which potential is wasted.

Docktober A month dedicated to Dock Ellis in which everyone’s wasted.

Tupactober Only observed in years that also feature a Notorious M.A.Y.

Excuse me.

LEAVE ME ALONE. I’M A CREATIVE.

There’s not even a premise here. It makes no sense.

Sue me.

Dick.

 

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