“Heeeeeeey, pal.”

Ugh. Hello, Coronavirus.

“Having a great day! I feel like I just got a massage, took a giant shit, and slept for 12 hours all at once. Relaxed and strong, man.”

Good for you.

“Don’t be mad at me for living my authentic self.”

Why don’t you go bother someone else?

“My market’s America. I’m like the Dead.”

Please don’t compare yourself to the Grateful Dead.

“Why not? I’m playing the big rooms now!”

Tulsa?

“This is a huge show for me. Remember when Beyonce headlined Coachella? It’s like that for me.”

Don’t go.

“Are you kidding me? Wild horses couldn’t keep me away! Intelligent testing, social tracing, and stringent mask-wearing could have kept me away, but literally nothing can keep me from making that gig now. They call Tulsa ‘the Paris of the Plains,’ y’know?”

They don’t.

“They should. Hep little town. I’m gonna kill it there.”

I bet you will.