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

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Super Bill

Is everyone miserable today?

“You ever think about skank gone by, Ass?”

Sure.

“When I was a kid, there’d be great flocks of skank blotting out the sky. You could reach up and grab one.”

Poetic.

“And then you take it out and stick it in.”

Prosaic.

“Super Bowl was fun.”

You watched it?

“I went! Lotta fun.”

Wait, you paid for Super Bowl tickets?

“Fuck, no. I haven’t paid for a ticket in…ever.”

Sounds right.

“Me and Bobby go way back.”

Yeah, you’ve been in a band together for 50 years.

“Not Weir. Bobby Kraft.”

You know Robert Kraft?

“Big Deadhead. Used to hang out with him when we were played Boston. He’d rent us a Duck Boat. Guess what we called it?”

Fuck Boat.

“How’d you guess?”

Had a feeling.

“Krafty’s a poonhound. Me and Brent would meet him at the free clinic in Brookline and pick up Jewish girls with herpes.”

Ew.

“Then we’d hop on the Red Line.”

Red Line doesn’t go to Brookline. That’s the Green Line.

“I wasn’t talking about the T. I meant we would plow some menstruaters.”

Ewwwww.

“It’s natural!”

Whatever. How was the game?

“Back and forth, back and forth.”

Not really. Falcons were up, then the Pats came back.

“No, I meant I was giving it to two chicks at once.”

Did you even watch?

“Course I watched! Made everyone else in the suite watch, too.”

Did you see the halftime show?

“Yeah, what’s her name? Bunny Foofoo?”

Lady Gaga.

“Art school girls. Always a fun two weeks until they try to stab you.”

Did you see any of the game at all? What about the comeback?

“Nah, I came on her tits.”

We’re done.

He’ll Rip Your Lungfish Out, Jim

Hey, Granddad, 83-year-resident of the Shedd Aquarium on Chicago. Sorry about the euthanasia.

“Eh. I was losing it. Couldn’t do the things I used to do.”

What did you used to do?

“Lay on the bottom of the tank.”

Sure. What the hell are you?

“Australian lungfish.”

Why are you called a lungfish?

“Got a lung.”

But you’re a fish.

“Weird fuckin’ world, ain’t it?”

Seriously: how do you have a lung?

“Same way pandas have a thumb made out of bone and plants in North Carolina eat insects.”

And that is?

“Evolution is on drugs.”

Stop it.

“You ever see half the shit floating around the ocean? Evolution’s a damned dopesucker. Starts one thing, then abandons it. Forgets shit all the time. You still got a tailbone, right?”

Yeah.

“Drugs.”

Okay. So, how’s Famous Animal Heaven?

“Everyone is being a huge dick. Honestly? Huge dicks.”

What? Oh, no. Why?

“They say I’m only locally famous.”

Well, they’re not wrong.

“A gorilla keeps asking me about memes.”

That’s Harambe.

“Guy’s always on his phone. Very rude. You know Flipper?”

The dolphin? Yeah, you met him?

“‘Met’ is one way to put it. Another is that he used me a masturbatory tool.”

Dolphins do that sometimes.

“How about Gentle Ben? You know Gentle Ben?”

Did the bear try to eat you?

“No, he didn’t.”

Oh, good.

“The bear did eat me. But I’m already dead, so I just regenerated. And then he ate me again.”

That sounds rough.

“Imagine Groundhog Day, but instead of having adventures and crises of faith, Bill Murray got eaten over and over.”

That’s a different film.

“It is. I wanna go back to Chicago. Be a big lungfish in a small pond.”

C’mon, buddy. You can make it. I believe in you.

Granddad?

Granddad?

POP

“Here I am. Gentle Ben ate me again.”

Wow.

“This is unsustainable.”

Good luck.

Blue-Tie Bobby

Dignified.

“Ignore this.”

It’s tough to gloss over. That tie is hideous.

“Tie? I thought it was swim goggles.”

Looks like them, yeah.

“I, uh, got a bone to throw at you.”

Pick with you.

“I know what the saying is. I’m madder than that. I wanna, you know, just chuck a thigh bone at your head.”

What?

“What did you say to Snake Tee-Shirt?”

Goddammit.

“Y’know that shirt received the Medal of Valor.”

No.

“Two Purple Hearts.”

Nuh-uh.

“A Green Clover, and a Yellow Moon.”

You’re talking about cereal, Bobby.

“I’m talking about Nam, man.”

SNAKE TEE-SHIRT WAS NOT A MARINE IN VIETNAM.

“Don’t yell at me.”

Sorry. The point stands.

“Snake Tee-Shirt’s always telling stories about Vietnam. First half of the story is about basic training, and then the last part is Nam. First half is more entertaining, honestly.”

Right.

“Or about how his platoon was split in between the drinkers and the pot smokers, and how his sergeant was killed in a visually iconic way.”

Bobby.

“Or all the surfing he did.”

Bobby.

“He was a radio deejay for a while.”

These are movies, Bobby. Snake Tee-Shirt is telling you stories from Vietnam movies.

“How do you explain his friendship with the Montagnards?”

I can’t.

“Checkmate. Leave Snake Tee-Shirt alone.”

 

Semper Reptilis

Hey, Snake Tee-Shirt. Long time no see.

“How’sss it hanging?”

Can’t complain. You?

“Sssad.”

Aw, buddy. What’s the matter?

“Worried about the United Ssstatesss.”

We all are.

“I’m a patriot. You know I wasss in the Marine Corpsss.”

You don’t pronounce the S in that word, let alone pronounce it like that.

“You don’t ressspect veteransss.”

Yes, I do. And you are not a veteran.

“I ssserved my country, boy! Not like sssome pussssssiesss I could mention.”

You did not.

“I wasss at Khe Sssan.”

NO, YOU WERE NOT.

“Sssometimesss, I’m ssstill there. My buddiesss died in my handsss!”

You don’t have hands.

“Ssslevesss.”

You don’t even have sleeves. You were not a Marine.

“Thisss isss my rifle, thisss isss my gun.”

YOU DON’T HAVE HANDS.

“Audie Murphy didn’t have handsss. They let him be a Marine.”

First of all, he was in the Army. Second of all, he lost his hands in combat. He didn’t show up at the draft office and open the door with his foot. Third of all, you are a tee-shirt.

“You’re racissst.”

Can’t be racist against shirts. Shirt is not a race.

“I even remember the sssongsss we would sssing when we marched.”

You can’t march. You slither.

“I DON’T KNOW, BUT IT’S BEEN SSSAID–”

Stop this.

“MARIE ANTOINETTE GIVESSS REAL GOOD HEAD!”

I regret talking to you.

More Out-Of-Context Quotes From Today’s Sean Spicer Press Briefer

  • Melissa McCarthy has been declared an enemy combatant.
  • Bathrobe? Is that an English word? I’ve never heard it before. Is it like a chifferobe? Because, yes, the President does have a chifferobe he needs busting up if anyone wants to make a quick nickel.
  • The report that President Trump called the New York Times “fake news” is itself fake news.
  • I don’t know where this story that staffers can’t find the bathrooms and are shitting in the hallways came from, but it’s not true. I mean, yes: there are one or two turds in the hallways, but we can’t even be sure if they’re human.
  • The thing to remember about former-President Obama is that he’s black, and so whatever you’re asking me about is almost certainly his fault.
  • No, he did not say “Muslim ban.” The President was using an acronym: Making the United States Less Infested, Murder-filled, Bad, And Nasty.”
  • Now, by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,
    It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
    Evermore crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed!
  • Lots of people wake up before dawn to yell at the teevee news and then go to bed at seven p.m. My grandmother. My grandfather. My other grandmother.
  • Yes, I do feel President Trump is Lincolnesque.
  • The so-called British Parliament are jealous losers and haters.
  • Many of New England’s plays from last night’s Super Bowl were suggested by the President.

Bob And His Uncle

Get your feet off the couch, mister.

“It’s a green room couch. Worse things than feet have been on it.”

Yeah, sure. You see the game?

“Huge. Comeback of the century.”

How about it, huh?

“No one thought the Chiefs had it in them. Gave everyone a little surprise.”

The Chiefs? Kansas City wasn’t in the Super Bowl, Bobby.

“Tamalpais Chiefs. Marin County touch football championship game today.”

Oh.

“We played the Stinson Beach Marauders. Kind of a grudge match. Ran for two touchdowns, threw for one.”

In those shoes?

“Course not. I had on my football sandals.”

Makes sense. Who’s on the Chiefs? Just guys from the neighborhood?

“Used to be, yeah. But, uh, this is a big game. I called in some favors. Got some ringers.”

Ringers?

“I know some guys.”

Who?

“I had my hands up on defense, but apparently you don’t do that in this sport.”

Hey, Bill Walton. You’re Bobby’s ringer?

“For the first quarter. Then both my shins exploded, and I had to miss the rest of the season.”

Sure.

Thoughts On Super Bowl LI

  • The bad guys will win.
  • No matter how hot and skinny you are, eventually you will have a floppy tummy.
  • Terry Bradshaw wants to fuck Tom Brady.
  • Terry Bradshaw wants to be fucked by Tom Brady.
  • NFL owners will be the first up against the wall when the revolution comes.
  • Hell, let’s not wait for the revolution.
  • We have run out of gas, collectively: when a culture starts bringing back its old advertising icons, then it is out of ideas.
  • Spuds?
  • Really?
  • Dig up that little mustache fucker out of the ground; tell him it’s time to make the donuts.
  • Katie Nolan>Erin Andrews in every single way.
  • The only Real Americans® are Military-Americans, and all the rest of us should drop to our knees and thank them, orally, for our Freedom®.
  • Just because you’re playing in a dome doesn’t mean a flyover is out of the question.
  • Julian Edelman’s haircut is a mod at /r/The_Donald.
  • New rule: players must get their helmets locked together at least once every game from now on; it is adorable.
  • If you ask Alexa what time it is, she will not know; if you ask her the weather, she will give you the forecast for the wrong city; if you ask her what the Over/Under for the game is, she will respond INSTANTLY with “57.5 points is the Over/Under.”
  • I think Alexa might have a gambling problem.
  • Shannon Sharpe is a preening twit.
  • I’m beginning to think we’ll never meet Lord Gaga.
  • All commercials from now on should troll the president.
  • “Come on down to Larry’s Furniture Shack and buy yourself a couch. Also, Trump’s a wetbrained cocksniffer. Financing available!”
  • Fox kept their name and the number of the Super Bowl in Roman numerals (LI) up on the screen for most of the game, and I kept wondering, “Who is Fox Li? Is that Jet’s son?”
  • I’m happy for Gronk, I suppose.
  • This might be my last year of football; I have grown to despise everything about the sport but the actual game.
  • It’ll be nice to see Alfa Romeos on the side of American roads again.

Too Pat To Open

We have learned something today, Enthusiasts, or perhaps we have remembered something, a broken-off kernel of the primal knowledge we all share, the collective knowing, an ur-memory.

The fact that the Violent Femmes opened for the Dead is not part of whatever the fuck the ur-memory is. It is the definition of the word trivia.

No, it’s more important than that. Quadrivia, at least.

I disagree. Furthermore, I retract my previous statement classifying this fact as trivia. It is less than trivia. Trivia might help you on Jeopardy, whereas “Grateful Dead Opening Acts” is never going to be a category.

Let’s just say we learned.

Did we? Is the mere ingestation of a random piece of effluva “learning?”

Why are you being so difficult?

Because you were one sentence away from comparing your discovery of this small fact to Proust’s madeleine.

In my defense–

There’s no defense for that.

There isn’t.

No.

Getting back to the Dead: there is no master list of opening acts. As with so much else in the Dead’s universe of oddities, one-offs, and obscurantics, the indispensable Hooterollin’ (kid sister site to the similarly indispensable pistol-packin’ mama of Grateful Dead sites Lost Live Dead) has the best organized collection of whatever information is out there; it is not, as I said, a master list.

Mostly, the Dead didn’t have opening acts unless they did, which was sometimes. You would show up and there might be a band onstage that was not the Grateful Dead; the Dead did not advertise their openers, you inferred them. A good rule of thumb: if the band played outside, there was an opener, if they played inside, not. (Except on New Year’s Eve, and also other nights just because.)

The Opening Act is a worn and battered trope from the Rock Star mythos; every band but the Dead brought another band (or two) with them as support. There are Sherlock Holmes stories that have not been retold as many times as these tales: Van Halen blowing Black Sabbath off stage, and Aerosmith throwing Guns ‘n Roses off a tour for the crime of behaving in exactly the way they always behaved. Some bands fought with the support act, and others befriended them and engaged in semi-consensual sex acts with them.

Occasionally, the headlining band would actively sabotage their own opening act by reducing the amount of power, or not letting them use the lights, or do a soundcheck. Mötley Crüe once poisoned Warrant’s bass player with polonium. When he was an opening act, Peter Frampton was sold into sexual slavery by three separate groups. (ELP, UFO, and INXS.)

The Dead had some rather tasteful and appropriate acts warm up the crowd later in their run, Sting and Little Feat and the Nevilles. They even brought Warren Zevon back in 1980 after he drunkenly taunted the crowd when he opened for the Dead in ’78. He played at two shows in Boulder, and some of his set got taped. Go listen.

Warren looked like this:

Like I said, Warren played both shows; on the second night, he used all the same patter and told the same jokes and the Deadheads started yelling the punchlines out with him. In Warren’s defense: in normal show biz, you can tell the same jokes two nights in a row because it’s a different crowd. Someone should have warned him.

“Warren?”

“Yeah?”

“Little something you might not have realized: same audience as yesterday.”

“Sure, course. It’s a demographic thing.”

“No. Not generally the same type of folks. The exact same human beings.”

“All of ’em?”

“90%.”

“You know any jokes?”

And so on.

The Grateful Dead also had many opening acts that have receded into the smoke of time, and memory, and doobie but for the hard work of archivists, historians, and–most of all–me. Many people have called me a hero for talking about the Dead’s opening acts; they are correct. You’re welcome.

TotD now presents Grateful Dead Opening Acts You May Not Recall:

2 Live Crew – 10/14/88, Miami The promoter, trying to add some local South Florida flavor, booked the controversial rap band. The audience was deeply offended; not by the lyrics, but by how pitifully the 2 Live Crew rapped. Billy loved them.

Alice Cooper – 5/12/77, Chicago You shouldn’t be chopping off heads in front of an arena full of people on acid. Let’s just leave it at that.

Bolshoi Ballet – 6/28/85, Hershey Park What was intended as a cross-cultural exchange turned into an international incident when the Dead dosed the company and they all defected immediately. Bobby dated the prima ballerina for a few months; the rest of the band banged the chorus during set break.

Terrified buffalo – 9/16/87, MSG Not a band: an actual panicked bison, pushed out onto stage.

The Groovy Ghoulies – 10/27/73, Indianapolis Halfway through the Ghoulies’ set, everyone in the audience simultaneously realized the band was fictional; localized reality decohered for several hours.

Don’t Stand So Close To Bobby

Hey, Bobby.

“Look, it’s Slash.”

No.

“Smosh.”

What?

“Shamalamadingdong.”

Sting. His name is Gordon Sumner, and he goes by Sting.

“Not ringing any bells.”

He opened for the Dead.

“Apparently, so did the Violent Femmes, whoever the hell they are. So, you know: you’re gonna have to narrow it down a bit more than that.”

He was in The Police.

“Oh, shit.”

No. Not the police. The Police.

“Ah. I didn’t notice the capitalization. Wait, yeah. They were a trio, right?”

Yup.

“I do not cotton to trios, gotta tell ya. At least six or seven too few people in the band.”

Bobby.

“Yeah?”

Reach in there and tweak his nip.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.”

You could, though.

“You can see an awful lot of him.”

Too much. Hold on: is Sting wildly under-dressed, or are you wildly over-dressed.

“Both. This picture was taken at a pool party.”

Sure.

The Lyrics Of Ruben And Cherise, Without Research

Cherise was brushing her long, black hair.
She had such long, black hair.
And Ruben something down.

Cherise was brushing her Carnival parade.
At the Carnival parade.

(GARCIA SOLO)

If you could see my heart
And my legs of blue
I’d show them to you
It’s only you.
Hairbrush.

When I woke up,
Mom and Dad were rolling on the couch
Rolling numbers, rock and rolling

Stop it.

Got my KISS records out.

That is Surrender by Cheap Trick.

I am almost positive that it’s Ruben and Cherise.

Do you mean Rubin and Cherise?

Have I been misspelling the fellow’s name?

You have.

That doesn’t make me any less of an expert.

You barely know the song.

I don’t listen to Jerry Band, and the Dead only played it mumblemumble times in the Vince era. Of course I don’t know it. Don’t know Wave to the Wind, either. In fact: I may have never heard that song.

What if it’s a classic?

Then it wouldn’t be named Wave to the fucking Wind, would it?

True.

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