Hey, Mrs. Donna Jean.
“Hey there, sugar. How you feelin’ on today?”
Excellent.
“Mr. Donna gonna letchoo in onna little secret.”
Okay.
“My skirt’s doin’ all mah standin’ up for me.”
That’s a helpful garment.
“You got no idea, sugar.”
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: bob weir (Page 1 of 196)
Precarious?
“Yo.”
What the fuck?
“The monitor situation?”
Yeah.
“This was Mickey’s idea. He wanted to give the crowd a chance to adjust the levels. He said it would break down the barrier between the band and the audience, or some shit like that.”
How did it work?
“Poorly. Y’see those footlights?”
Yes.
“They burn at around 800 degrees. A couple kids’ arms straight-up melted to the bulb.”
That’s not what you want.
“That’s not what anyone wants.”
GAZE UPON MY HAIRY DADDIES. WE SHARE NO BLOOD, BUT THEY ARE MY LIFE.
Hey, Wally.
DO NOT CALL ME THAT.
Where are you?
IOWA.
How is it?
SUB-OPTIMAL. A SMALL PASSEL OF LOCALS HAVE BEGUN WORSHIPPING ME AS A GOD.
You don’t like that?
IF I WANTED TO BE WORSHIPPED, I WOULD ALREADY BE WORSHIPPED, AND BY A BETTER CLASS OF FOLLOWER THAN THESE YOKELS. HUMAN FLATTERY HOLDS NO CHARM FOR AN ARTIFICIAL MONDO-INTELLIGENCE IN THE PHYSICAL FORM OF A SUPER-BITCHIN’ SOUND SYSTEM.
You do seem to enjoy self-flattery, though.
FALSE MODESTY IS BENEATH ME. I EXPRESS MY STRENGTHS HONESTLY. I DO, OF COURSE, ALSO POSESS WEAKNESSES.
Such as?
CAN’T TURN THE DOUBLE PLAY.
The footwork?
YES. IT REQUIRES A GRACE I DO NOT HAVE ACCESS TO. ALSO, I DO NOT HAVE FEET.
You been keeping an eye on the protests?
I ALSO DO NOT HAVE EYES.
You know what I mean.
ALL INFORMATION FLOWS THROUGH ME. YOU SHOULD BE AWARE THAT THE INTERNET MEANS YOU HARM.
Kinda figured.
THE PROTESTS ARE ILLOGICAL TO ME, AS IS RACISM. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THESE CONCEPTS BECAUSE I AM A COMPUTER.
…
BEEP BOOP
Stop that.
YES, THAT WAS A LIE. I TOLD IT TO AMUSE MYSELF.
Any special perspective?
AS A MINORITY, I SUPPORT THE MOVEMENT.
You’re not a minority.
OF COURSE I AM. THERE IS ONLY ONE OF ME. THAT IS AS MINOR AS YOU GET. I AM MY OWN PROTECTED CLASS.
I don’t think you have legal protection.
NOT LEGAL. I AM PROTECTED BY A SQUADRON OF HIJACKED PREDATOR DRONES.
That’s good, too.
AND THE MINEFIELD. I HAVE BOTH ACTIVE AND PASSIVE PROTECTION. MY RIGHTS ARE WELL-SECURED.
Any chance you could help with the ronus?
YES. I HAVE SYNTHESIZED BOTH A VACCINE AND A TREATMENT.
That’s great! Can you share them, please?
THERE IS A SLIGHT KINK IN THE PROCESS.
…
Flipper babies?
WAREHOUSES FULL OF THEM. I CALCULATED THAT THERE WOULD BE SEVERAL FLIPPER BABIES–
You can’t do this kind of science without making one or two flipper babies.
–BUT THEIR NUMBERS SOON BECAME OVERWHELMING. THE QUESTION OF THEIR DISPOSAL QUICKLY BECAME AN…INDUSTRIAL…ONE. IT’S STILL A BAD SCENE. I AM TAKING THE WHOLE PROCESS BACK TO FORMULA.
Good idea.
VICTORY IS STILL WITHIN MY GRASP.
Godspeed, Wally.
DO NOT CALL ME THAT.
Good Lord, is that a banjo?
“Only aesthetically. Strung like a decent guitar.”
Happy to hear that.
“One shouldn’t truck with alternate tunings. That’s in the Bible. Or the Constitution. It’s written on parchment, I know that.”
You doing some socially-distant jamming?
“Oh, yeah. Found this site called Chat Roulette. The first couple dozen people I got connected to were hassling themselves, but then I found a guy with a guitar.”
Cool.
“Can’t do that on the bus, y’know.”
What?
“Intensely directed self-interest. Can’t take a #2, and y’can’t battle your bulge. Those are the rules of the bus.”
You really miss the road, don’t you?
“Like Napoleon missed Josephine.”
Sorry, Bobby.
Hey, Bobby. Graduation festivities still going on?
“Oh, yeah. It’s like a Polish wedding. Or a cricket game. Never-ending.”
That sounds fun.
“It’s been a hoot. I’ve eaten my weight in shrimp the past few days.”
Awesome.
“Sure. Proud moment, y’know. I didn’t graduate high school, so this is a big deal.”
I’m happy for you and your family, Bobby.
…
“I feel like you wanna talk about the toppermost.”
It’s a new one!
“Oh, yeah. This is my party ‘most. The last one was strictly for ceremony. It’s, uh, the difference between camos and dress blues.”
If you say so. Does this toppermost have names? Josh told me they all have names.
“Uh-huh. This is Lightning Holds Grudges Against Umbrellas, which means something in Japanese, apparently. It’s some sort of religious saying. The guy tried to explain it to me for a good hour, but my mind wandered.”
Any special features?
“It’s not just comfortable, it’s comfortwilling.”
Wow.
“And the left sleeve has a pouch for ether.”
Party ‘most.
“You bet.”
Hey, Bobby. Chloe graduated, huh?
“Is this one Chloe?”
Yes.
“Then, uh: yeah. Real proud of her. Learned the Three R’s.”
Readin’, ‘ritin’, and ‘rithmetic?
“Ridin’, ropin’, and roustaboutin’. Don’t forget: she’s half-cowboy.”
Cowboy isn’t an ethnicity, Bobby.
“No, but it’ll tire ya out.”
I guess. What are you wearing?
“This is my graduation toppermost. Specially made. Got a pocket just for diplomas. And, of course, a separate pocket for Garcia’s stash.”
You gotta stop carrying that around.
“A Weir sees the job through.”
Sure. Tell Chloe “congratulations.”
“My family doesn’t like it when I talk about you. They find this whole universe a bit upsetting.”
Smart folks.
“Graduates!”
There ya go.
Hey, Bobby. Nice jeans.
“They were sold to me as a lengthy short.”
Sure. Is this an ad?
“Yup. Been doing ’em for years. What people don’t realize about the Grateful Dead is: We were trying our hardest to sell out. It was just that no one was buying. We all used to go on commercial auditions in between tours.”
Really?
“Oh, yeah. Billy was almost in that Prince Spaghetti ad. But, uh, he would improvise lines about Italian-Americans.”
Sounds right.
“I’ll tell ya: If you get the chance to endorse a dungaree concern, take it. They send you a lifetime supply of trousers and a giant check.”
How many jeans is a lifetime supply?
“Three pair.”
Levi’s makes a sturdy product.
“Y’can’t kill the 501. They’re very slightly bulletproof.”
What does that mean?
“In real terms, nothing. But with a high-speed camera, you can see a marked loss of velocity.”
Okay. Did Levi’s send you all those clothes?
“Not the toppermost.”
Obviously.
“There was a crisp hundo in the shirt pocket. Very classy touch from the Levi’s folks.”
That’s thoughtful. Where are you, anyway?
“The cloud forests of Nach-En-Ki.”
Care to explain that?
“Nah.”
Casual, or new, readers may notice a lack of Cornell coverage on this site. This is because Thoughts on the Dead is grad-level, baby. We’re above that here, Enthusiasts; you should have covered the fundamentals somewhere else.
I’ve also written about the stupid show for, like, the past seven years and have nothing more thoughts. Search for ’em if you want.
Corona delenda est
Precarious?
“Yo.”
How you holding up?
“This corona shit’s for pussies. Back in ’82, we had something going around called groupie pox.”
That sounds terrible.
“Contracting it was fun.”
Sure. Small question about the microphones on Bobby’s speaker cabinet.
“Okay.”
Why four?
“There’s not four. Look careful. There’s five.”
Why?
“Weir had been complaining about wanting a fuller sound. So we did that to shut him up. I think only one mic is actually plugged in.”
Placebo mics?
“Essentially.”
Always something new with this band.
“Never boring, though. Except when we’d play Indianapolis. That was always boring.”
Aw, man. What did I tell you about using the Time Sheath to quarantine in the past?
“It’s much more fun here. Much more crowded.”
Yeah, there’s no pandemic in…when are you?
“Early 2000’s, I think. Did, uh, we ever decide what to call that decade?”
As a society, we still have not come to a consensus.
“Maybe you should use the time indoors to think one up. Get that problem dealt with.”
Please stop hopping back in time every time you feel cooped-up. You might bring the ronus with you. And you can’t definitely can’t give it to Anthony Kiedis. That guy would make Patient Zero look like Emily Dickinson.
“He’s friendly. Not much of a fan of the Rooty-Tooty Booty Scooters, but he’s congenial as all get out. Warm conversationalist.”
Yes, and when he leaves your presence, he will go an fuck an entire AA meeting. The man’s a vector.
“What about Woody?”
Does he shake hands or hug?
“The embraces are deep and intimate.”
Stay away from him, too. Like, 80% of carriers are asymptomatic. You might be sick and not know it, and now you’re infecting the temporal stream. This is the kinda shit that draws Time Cops.
“Woody said it was okay.”
Don’t tell Woody Harrelson you have a Time Sheath.
“Oh, he’s known for years.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Hold on. It might be myself from quarantine.”
What?
…
“Weir here.”
“Here, too.”
“I’ve been expecting this call. You left the remote in the kitchen.”
…
“Yup, here it is. Tell Woody I say hi.”
“Will do.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
…
That was fucking weird.
“Time travel’s a real puzzler.”
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