“Hey, Jer?”
“What, Weir?”
“I’m kinda digging this Telecaster. Thinking about maybe becoming a Tele guy.”
“A what?”
“Telecaster guy. Get myself a shirt styled in the cowboy fashion. Maybe one of those haircuts that requires unguent to maintain its integrity.”
“Haven’t I told you to stay away from unguents, man?”
“At least once a day since 1968.”
“It’s good advice I’m giving you.”
“I think the Deadheads would appreciate the change. Perhaps they could learn to line-dance.”
“They can barely stand in lines, man.”
“Jer, I’ve heard the sound of my soul, and that sound is ‘twang.'”
“Just play the damn song, Weir.”
“Aw.”
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