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

Tag: jerry garcia (Page 1 of 138)

Too Much Monkey Business

“Hop in, loser. We’re–”

Not you, too.

“–going Murder Heisting, man.”

I thought you might be above this.

“Nah. I’m in the mood for some hijinx.”

Is Robert Redford in your trunk?

“Oh, no, man.”

Thank God.

“We traded him.”

You what now?

“We needed access to a spy satellite. And I guess the guy with the spy satellite needed access to Robert Redford. Worked out all even and steven, man.”

What’s the spy satellite for?

“Peeping, I gather.”

At what?

“Not my part of the plan.”

What is your part of the plan?

“Picking up crullers for the office. You can’t Murder Heist hungry, man. First rule.”

True, I guess.

“I’m having a blast, man, gotta tell ya. It’s like a giant sunflower blooming right in front of our eyes, but the petals are made from shenanigans.”

Really thought you were better than the rest of them.

“Absolutely not.”

Nope.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this.”

You should not have a cell phone.

“You should not have granted me the power to manipulate the timestream, man.”

Touché.

“Hang on.”

“Yello?”

“HAIRY GARCIA! WE READY F’R SOME GOOD OL’ MURDER HEISTIN’!”

“What do you mean ‘we,’ man?”

“AH HAVE ACQUIRED A MONKEY!”

“Kinda shocked it took this long, man.”

“THERE WAS A SIMIAN-SHAPED HOLE IN MAH HEART, HAIRY GARCIA! AH HAVE NOW FILLED IT, AN’ AH HAVE A SENSE OF GREAT PEACE.”

“Good for you, man.”

“UNFORT’NATELY, THERE IS VERY LITTLE PEACE IN GRACELAND! CHARLIE HODGE IS THREATENED BAH TH’ BANANA MAN!”

“You named the monkey–”

“I HAVE CHRISTENED HIM ‘TH’ BANANA MAN.'”

“–The Banana Man?”

“ON ACCOUNT O’ HE LOVES BANANAS. AN’ TH’ SECOND PART IS IRONIC. BANANA MAN AIN’T NO MAN, HE’S A MONKEY.”

“Clearly. So, what’s the beef with him and Charlie?”

“AS YOU KNOW, CHARLIE HODGE BRINGS ME MAH SCARVES AN’ WATER. AH GET SO DANG SWEATY, AN’ AH BECOME SO PARCHED. MY AFFLICTIONS CAN BE TREATED ONLY WITH SCARVES AN’ WATER! WE TRIED TOWELS AN’ GATORADE ONCE, AN’ IT WAS A COMPLETE DISASTER.”

“Change can be tough, man.”

“TH’ KING NEEDS SCARVES, AN’ TH’ KING NEEDS WATER, AND CHARLIE HODGE DELIVERS THESE BALMS TO HIS KING.”

“BUT IT DID TAKE TH’ BETTER PART OF A DECADE TO TEACH CHARLIE HODGE HOW TO DO IT. BOY’S THICKER TH’N CEMENT SOUP. DIDN’ EVEN KNOW WHAT A SCARF WAS AT FIRST. AH’D ASK F’R ONE, AN’ HE’D BRING ME RANDOM HOUSEHOLD ITEMS. OH, MAN, TH’ LOOK ON HIS FACE WOULD BREAK Y’R HEART. SO HOPEFUL.”

“Well, people learn at their own pace, I guess.”

“THASS WHAT AH LIKE ABOUT YOU, HAIRY GARCIA: YOU SEE TH’ GOOD IN PEOPLE.”

“I try my best, man.”

“BUT YOU SHOULD STOP GIVIN’ CHARLIE HODGE TH’ BENEFIT OF TH’ DOUBT. BOY’S SO DUMB HE CAN’T EVEN SPELL IQ.”

“So what’s his problem with the chimp?”

“AS AH MENTIONED, IT TOOK ALMOST TEN YEARS F’R CHARLIE HODGE TO MASTER THE FETCHIN’ O’ MAH SCARVES AN’ WATER.”

“Yeah.”

“TOOK TH’ BANANA MAN 20 MINUTES T’FIGURE IT OUT.”

“That’s gonna cause some friction.”

“THIS WILL END IN TEARS. JUS’ DON’ KNOW FROM WHICH SPECIES YET.”

“Uh-huh. Elvis, was there a reason you called?”

“MURDER HEIST!”

“Oh, right, that.”

“COME PICK US UP! STOP F’R DONUTS FIRST!”

“I got crullers.”

“CRULLERS’LL DO.”

So Let’s Dance!

Could Garcia play jazz? 

Kinda. If you had never heard an actual jazz guitarist, you might think so. Those with a working knowledge of six-string swing-cats might not share that opinion.

Could Garcia play jazz that he and David Grisman had transmogrified into bluegrass?

Yes! Quite well, in fact.

Did Miles Davis only like Garcia because Garcia fawned over him?

Probably a little.

Isn’t that a bit…Trumpy?

Yes! Quite Trumpy, in fact.

Y’know your eyebrows are falling out, right?

Go fuck your brother, you shit-sack.

DON’T YOU GIVE HIM SHIT, SHIT-SACK!

Fuck both of you dudes.

Eat me, muchacho.

EAT HIM, MUCHACHO!

I hate bold-faced guy.

That fucker’s on my list. Actually, that fucker’s my whole list. It’s just him.

You’re a friend.

I dance with who brought me.

How’d You Get Up Here?

“They’ll write anything you want, but it’s not a monogram unless it’s your name.”

“I can dig that.”

“And you get to choose what kind of script you want it written in.”

“Do ya now?”

“Oh, yeah. Four different kinds! Five? No, four. Obviously, you pick the color, too.”

“Obviously.”

“They do it in the shop. Right there in front of you.”

“Fun day, man.”

“I bet they do tee-shirts, too. I could maybe bring a couple of yours down and–”

“Do you hear a drum circle?”

“–have my guy…shit, I gotta go.”

“See ya, Mick.”

I Didn’t Know You Had A Niece

Oh, sweet nightmare.

“Eat it, man. You always forget I’m a man. Red-blooded and all that. And I’m a Rock Star. I get around, man.”

I know that intellectually, but on a primal level I cannot accept you as a sexual being.

“I had four kids and four wives.”

Notwithstanding.

“Your shallow reading of your characters is your fatal flaw. Except for Mickey. Mickey’s shallow, man.”

I think she’s into you.

“She’s right friendly.”

Gonna get a beej?

“Don’t be crass.”

You should give her an Ocean’s 11.

“I have no idea what that is, man.”

Three casinos at once.

“Parish!”

LONELY DISEASED WEIRDO RUNNING AWAY NOISE

A Man, A Van, Some Fan: Econoline

Hey, Garcia. Whatcha doing?

“Having a good time, man.”

Looks like it. You got a BLT waiting for you?

“Y’know, man: I’m actually a lot more complex than the caricatured ‘hungry, hungry hippie’ you write me as. My whole deal isn’t food and stash. Do you know anything about my childhood?”

It was traumatic.

“Just simply packed with trauma, man. I’m a sprawling mess, psychologically speaking. But you just wanna do your little ‘Garcia eats diner food’ jokes. Dig a little deeper, why don’t you?”

Why are you smiling while you chastise me?

“I told you, man: I’m having a good time.”

Good on you.

Saw Your First Ship Sink

You can jump?

“Sure. I’m not an elephant, man.”

I know that. Your tiny little ears give you away.

“And my memory ain’t that great.”

Read your Army file today.

“Wasn’t much of a soldier, was I?”

It’s almost impressive how terrible you were at it.

“It was the hours that got to me. And all the yelling. ‘Garcia! Go here! Go there!’ I had no stomach for it, man.”

You weren’t born for it.

“Oh, and I didn’t like the costumes.”

Uniforms.

“Those boots were heavy, man. Gimme a pair of tennis shoes any day.”

Can’t argue with you.

Guitarras Rojas

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.”

Wall Lives Matter

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.

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