Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: bob weir (Page 60 of 198)

New, New Minglewoody Blues

January 23, 2017 / / 1 Comment

Bobby.

“Hey. Have, uh, you met Woody Harrelson?”

Hey, Woody. How are you?

“I’m just here to talk about Rampart.”

Great. Bob?

“Yeah?”

Weren’t you just wearing shoes?

“My body rejected them.”

Sure.

“Like a baboon liver”

Gotcha.

“Knees swole up, eyes started watering, armpits got confused.”

Sounds bad.

“Luckily, my wife–”

Natasha Monster.

“–always carries a pair of emergency sandals in her purse. She’s like a Boy Scout, but a girl.”

Those are called Girl Scouts, Bobby.

“That would explain why she keeps trying to sell me cookies.”

Bobby, focus. Why is Woody Harrelson singing?

“Something fun for the kids.”

This is dangerously close to a Johnny Depp jam session. Don’t be that Rock Star.

“You bet.”

Having fun at Sundance?

“Sure. Whole family came out.”

The whole family?”

“WE DEMAND VEGAN POPCORN AT THE SCREENING!”

“Yup. Whole family”

Hey, Lilian Monster.

“WE DEMAND ROBERT REDFORD BE MADE FROM PLEATHER!”

“Yup. Whole family.”

Patriot Expatriate

January 22, 2017 / / 3 Comments

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“I have, uh, ascended to the Iron Throne.”

Nope.

“Yeah, uh-huh. They upholstered it.”

No, that’s just a rich guy’s chair.

“I’m a rich guy.”

Different kind of rich guy. That’s a chair a railroad magnate would sit in while reading the evening paper and ordering a strike broken.

“I don’t even own one railroad.”

Let alone enough to qualify as a magnate. You excited about Mexico?

“That new kid they got, Santos? Hell of a striker. Goalie’s pretty good, too.”

Not the national soccer team. I meant the show coming up, Bob.

“Ah. Well, you know: gig’s a gig. If this goes good, though, we’re gonna do some more shows down there. Then maybe Canada. Thinking about taking Dead & Company to Europe this year.”

…

You fleeing the country?

“Wouldn’t you?”

Take me with you.

“I won’t even let you write my teevee show; why would I take you to Switzerland?”

You’re going to Switzerland?

“Pretend I didn’t say that.

Sure.

 

 

Babble

January 16, 2017 / / 0 Comments

You look like you’re standing outside your family farm watching the sheriff drive up the road to serve your eviction papers.

“How so?”

Defiant and hardscrabble.

“I would disagree with hardscrabble. My life has contained nothing but the easiest scrabble.”

True.

“Y’think ‘hardscrabble,’ and you got what? Pioneer people, right?”

Sure. Sod house in the middle of nowhere.

“Chores at four in the morning. That’s hardscrabble. At four in the morning, I was usually enjoying cocaine and attractive strangers. That scrabble is very easy, y’see?”

Sure.

“Plus, uh, Josh gave me some facial scrub nonsense. Smells like pine. Opens your pores right up.”

Yeah?

“Right afterwards, you could stick a pinky finger in your pore. Biggest pores you’ve ever seen.”

That’s what you want, I guess.

“And it smells like pine.”

Friday Night They’ll Be Dressed To Kill, Down At Bobby’s Bar And Grill

January 16, 2017 / / 4 Comments

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“The, uh, boys are back in town.”

Looks like it.

“Sammy’s been yelling ‘woo’ for three hours straight.”

That sounds awful.

“Michael Anthony is doing the high harmony.”

Oh, then that sounds great. When did you start drinking again?

“Right after the election. Same as you.”

Shh.

“Are we not talking about that?”

Shh. You missed a great opportunity.

“How so?”

You’re doing this Mexico thing with Billy and some guys from some jam band, right?

“The Spring Street Marsupials, yeah.”

No.

“They’re lovely young men.”

Sure. But you could have gotten Sammy and Micheal Anthony. Dude. You, Billy, Sammy Hagar, and Michael Anthony jamming in Mexico.

“He knows Loose Lucy.”

And you know Hot For Teacher.

“Most people are unaware that Hot For Teacher is my favorite song of all time.”

It’s a weird choice.

“I chart my own course.”

You do, Bob.

Two Tickets Rising Up To Paradise

January 11, 2017 / / 3 Comments

Bobby, I think that man is having a stroke.

“No, that’s his face. Do you know Johnny Cash?”

Nope.

“Johnny Paycheck.”

Nuh-uh.

“The Reverend Creflo Dollar?”

Eddie Money, Bob.

“I was in the ballpark.”

How’s Eddie?

“Keeps offering me tootski.”

Eddie loves a toot.

“And I think he wants to buy me a hooker.”

Why?

“Keeps saying ‘Something for your nose, something for your hose.'”

That’s unseemly.

“You bet.”

I Can’t Complain

January 7, 2017 / / 7 Comments

This was the Day on the Green in ’76–well, one of the two days–and Garcia looks skinny, and though you can’t see it in this picture Bobby is wearing either jodhpurs or puttees. Some form of non-trouser pant.

But this is what Roger Daltrey looked like:

“What’s the matter, Weir? You’ve been pouting all day?”

“Well, Jer: you know how I’m usually the best-looking guy in the room?”

“Sure.”

“You see Daltrey?”

“Healthy specimen.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“It’s just two shows, Weir. Next week you’ll be competing with Billy and Phil again.”

“I guess.”

“Aw. C’mon, buddy. He ain’t that great.”

“Y’think?”

“I’m not generally one to look at another guy’s crotch, but where’s his potato salad?”

…

“I see none.”

“Like a Ken doll.”

“You always know what to say, Garcia.”

“You’re my guy, Bob.”

“Can I take my shirt off for our set, too?”

“I will whip you to death with my guitar cord if you remove your shirt, Bob.”

“Okay.”

“We’re not that kind of group.”

“We could be.”

“No, we couldn’t. Besides, if you take your shirt off, Billy’ll take his off.”

“That’s no good for anyone.”

“No.”

The Promised Land

January 4, 2017 / / 8 Comments

In keeping with local tradition, Bobby took multiple stone-cold foxes back to his room that evening.

Also: that’s Robert Vaughn on the balcony. Honest.

(This pic is from 9/4/83 at the Park West Ski Resort in Park City, Utah. The Dead played there once again in ’87 and then three shows at the Delta Center in Salt Lake City in ’95. When you think Utah, you think the Grateful Dead.)

What’s Black, White, And Rando All Over?

January 3, 2017 / / 5 Comments

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Vacation. All I ever wanted.”

Yeah?

“Happy to get away.”

This is Hawaii?

“If not, then Taj’s hand gesture is inappropriate.”

Wow, Taj Mahal.

“He’s smaller in person.”

You talking about the guy or the building, Bobby?

“Yup.”

You’re playing a show while you’re there, right?

“Well, yeah. You bet. Best kind of vacation is one someone else pays for.”

Got that right. Where you playing?

“Private party for some billionaire.”

Rock and roll.

“Neither of my daughters’ colleges accept teenage rebellion and principled stands against The Man as tuition.”

You’re not wrong. Isn’t Phil on Hawaii, too?

“Different island.”

And you’re playing with Billy?

“Yup.”

Anyone call Mickey?

“Nope.”

Have a good time, Bob.

“Always.”

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