Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
2. Mickey Hart No offense or anything.
1. Bill Kreutzmann We’re all in agreement here.
That’s it? You don’t want to explain your choices?
I’m not justifying myself to those fuckers.
Just a big teddy bear, aren’t you?
Punk rock teddy bear.
Sure, champ.
Hey, Mickey. Happy birthday, buddy.
“Hey, thanks.”
How old are you?
“39.”
You and Patti LuPone.
“She’s a triple threat.”
So, what do–
“Drums.”
–you want for–
“Drums.”
–your birthday present? Sure.
“I’m easier to shop for than a crackhead.”
Sure.
…
“You’re not gonna mention–”
No, I’m not.
“–my potato salad? Aw.”
You look like a schmuck.
“I’m in the future!”
Okay, that’s enough Mickey for now.
“Wheeee!”
It is 2016, as we’re so often reminded, and people are now allowed to be named LoloYodel; what’s more, said Yodels are furthermore permitted to make supercuts of all the Grateful Dead’s tuning songs, band introductions, bad jokes, and stage banter (from a ’64 Mother McCree’s Jug Band tape to 1989) and post it to YouTube. What a world.
If you don’t have the time or inclination to listen, then here’s a quick rundown:
And, of course, Billy’s jokes; I will not repeat them in whole out of fear of being sent to the Problem Attic without supper, but I can reprint some of the punchlines without context:
Remember the scene in Leaving Las Vegas where Nicolas Cage dance-shops through the liquor store? That’s Mickey in a t-shirt shop. I see him gathering up sheaves of shirts and walking out the door screaming, “It’s okay: I’m a Grateful Dead!” over his shoulder as he goes.
If you make t-shirts, then Mickey will be there.
OR
Major league potato salad.
OR
Feeling nostalgic, Parish picked a fat guy with a beard at random, and then punched someone for getting to close to him.
OR
There are at least three couples having kayak-sex in McCovey Cove behind Mickey.
OR
Why, Jake Peavey, how do you do?
“Fine. Thank you. Nice to meet a fan.”
Look at you all poured into that uniform. What’s your batting average?
“I’m a pitcher.”
I was hoping.
…
“Really?”
What kind of grip do you use on your balls, Jake Peavey?
“Just one E in the last name.”
One E, got it. What about a D?
“Listen, man: I’m in a relationship. We met at a show. Right on Shakedown.”
That sounds like a bad idea.
“No, it’s wonderful. I’m very happy. Oh, there they are.”
They?
“YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH POLYAMORY, BIGOT?”
“LOVE IS LOVE!”
You guys know Captain Fuck?
“HE MARRIED US!”
“AND THEN FUCKED US!”
I’m done.
Please don’t say–
“I stole home!”
–that you stole home. Right, there it is. Hey, Mickey.
“Look what I yoinked.”
You didn’t yoink that: they gave it to you.
“No, I was going to show you all the bats I stole.”
Give those back.
“I’m entitled to a thousand bucks worth of merch in any venue I step foot in. It’s in the rider.”
You can’t write a crime into a contract. BotD told me that once, and he’s a lawyer.
“Is he? You should give me his number.”
Not a criminal attorney.
“Never mind.”
Sure. Give the bats back, Mickey.
“I like them! You can drum with them, or on them, or hit people, or sex stuff. Useful as hell, man.”
How are you gonna get them out of the stadium? Bats are bulky.
“I got someone on the inside.”
Oh, no. No. Mickey, tell me you did not drag Annabelle Garcia into this. Family is off-limits, man.
“Not Annabelle. Me. Hey. It’s me in here.”
…
Brent?
“Why aren’t I included in more storylines?”
Because you’re always in a mascot costume. Or dead. Limits your possibilities for drama.
“Yeah, okay.”
Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?
“Summer of Drums!”
God, that sounds awful. I didn’t think anything could be worse than the Summer of Skank, but you nailed it.
“You’re very close-minded. Do you know that the word for ‘God’ in many languages is also the word for ‘drum?'”
How many?
“Many.”
Is that new?
“Yes. Or at least I have no memory of it.”
Same thing.
“It’s a djardjar.
No.
“The totemic death-drum of the Gungan tribe of Naboo.”
The movie you’re referencing does not exist.
“By striking the drum’s head, which is made from the smartest goat in the village, you can communicate with the world beyond.”
Have you done this?
“Yes.”
Who have you spoken to?
“Pissed-off gorilla. Flamingo with a broken neck.”
I see the problem: you’ve got your lines crossed. That’s the world beyond for famous animals.
“That’s why Trigger was there.”
Roy Rogers’ Trigger? They stuffed him and put him in a museum.
“Right. Shouldn’t have done that. He walks skinless through the afterlife.”
Jesus, fuck.
“Yeah. He says it hurts.”
Probably.
“Mick, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you: get on the skank train.”
“My back, Billy.”
“I got pills for that.”
“Didn’t Bobby steal those?”
“I got new ones.”
“What about my boner?”
“I got pills for that, too. C’mon, Hart: you and me. Like the old days. We can give a chick the Whopper.”
“Two all-beef drummers, special sauce, anal please, pickled teen fox on a Holiday Inn bed?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Billy, I just want to play my drums. I can’t act like I’m in my 20’s any more.”
“I can get you a book deal.”
“Gimme some boner pills.”
“Summer of skank!”
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