After the show, Phil had the backdrop cut up to make hundreds of hideous t-shirts.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Most of us are familiar with (or patrons of) Phil’s new culinary/musical venture, Terrapin Crossroads, but not many are familiar with the fine dining establishment Phil and Mickey partnered on in the ’80’s called Chez Guevara’s.
The name was the first misstep. A, it’s one of those jokes that’s cute the first time and just awful every time thereafter; B, fine dining establishments probably shouldn’t have puns in their names; and C, patrons in the San Francisco area tend to remember how much better Che was at, say, lining suspected homosexuals up against walls and shooting them than at, say, leading the people to a glorious worker’s paradise.
Also, Phil and Mickey both insisted on being Maitre d’ at the same time. “We’ve got two drummers and look how well that works all the time,” they reasoned. To their credit, they were right: it worked exactly as well. Opening night featured three fistfights about where people were going to sit, the last of which spread out to include most of the kitchen staff and spilled out to the parking lot.
Making Billy the chef was also a bad idea, as the only thing Billy knows how to do with knives is throw them at people.
Another pic by David Gans, author of the long-time fave Playing in the Band, follows up on the previous pic of Mickey in a schmucky hat to reveal that the hat’s purpose was to cover his freshly shorn skull, which Mickey has shaved for a reason known only to himself and the Lord, and quite frankly, even’s God’s a bit mystified.
Theories abound, however:
Honestly, you two: knock it off. Yes, Keith ate a handful of off-brand hippo tranquilizer and crawled into the piano twenty minutes ago but he has a weird way of sensing things even when he’s comatose.
PLUS Bottom right, third guy in, blue shirt: is that the Phantom of the Opera? What the dick is going on here?
ALSO Mickey is there why?
AND If Garcia doesn’t have a lit Camel in that left hand we can’t see, I’ll blow the Pope in Macy’s window.
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