Thoughts On The Dead

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

Author: Thoughts On The Dead (Page 74 of 1031)

Answered

February 12, 2020 / / 8 Comments

Regardless of what Grand Funk Railroad might have asserted, the Grateful Dead were the most American Band.

Grand Funk didn’t make any claims to their level of American-ness. They stated that they were “an” American Band.

Fuck you and your centrism.

I’ve grown tired of your bad attitude.

Took you much longer than most people. Anyhoo, the Dead were as American as diabetes, cheating in baseball, and having a solid-but-not-perfect grasp of geography. 97.3% of all Dead shows took place in the States–you can check my math if you want: 65 foreign gigs out of 2356 total–and half of that remaining 2.7% was Canada. Yet the band did not spread its love, and love-related infections, evenly.

Five states (not four, like I said Without Research) saw no Grateful Dead shows whatsoever: Delaware, North and South Dakota, Wyoming, and Arkansas. The middle three make sense, as those locations are a million miles from anywhere, and they’re not on the way to someplace decent, and no one lives there, anyway. Skipping Delaware and Arkansas is more puzzling, though. Delaware is tiny and pointless, but there is a big-ass college there that, by all rights, the Dead should have hit in 1971; Arkansas was such a reliable rockyroll tour stop that anthems were written about the local chicks. Grand Funk wrote one. Remember Grand Funk? We were just discussing them. You forgot? It was, like, 200 words ago; how could you forget? Are you taking your medicine?

Please stop harassing your readership.

FUCK THEM AND THEIR CENTRISM.

You’re making no sense tonight. It’s worse than usual.

Furthermore, the Dead played five states only once, but you could also count it as six. To wit: the band played one-nighters in Montana (74), New Hampshire and Mississippi (both 78), Idaho (83) and South Carolina (85), but they also only went to Alaska once, in 1980. While on the tundra, they played three nights in a row, but I think it should count along with the other five.

And, as long as we’re talking Dead-related confusion, here’s that fucking Les Paul Junior that pops up throughout the 70’s:

WHOSE FUCKING  GUITAR WAS THIS?

Solved

February 12, 2020 / / 2 Comments

Amazing how quickly we can accomplish miracles, Enthusiasts, if you define “miracle” as “recognizing a mass-produced object.” The guitar Bobby was playing in the last post was indeed an Ibanez, but not his custom Cowboy Fancy: it was was the MC400NT (NT meant  natural, as opposed to the DS’s dark stain), and if you want a 40-year-old, overly-complicated, ridiculously-heavy axe, you can pick one up for $1,300.

Thanks go to Valued Commentator Cube, who pointed us in the right direction but inadvertently brought up another question. Cube claims that Bobby played the MC400 only once, at 1978’s premier Red Rocks shows, but further snooping reveals that the guitar was also used on June 6th in Oregon.

Look:

Did you look? I’ll just assume you looked. I’m not gonna hector you about it. If you didn’t look, well: fuck you. Why are you even here if you’re not gonna look at what I tell you to look at? Sure, sometimes I tell you to look at turtle penis, but usually not. Even the most cursory glance at the above photo would have revealed that it isn’t turtle penis, so why not look?

Y’know what? Now you can look at turtle penis.

Why do you make me do that shit? You know I love you. You know I don’t want to hurt you. But you push the goddamned issue, don’t you? And now you’re looking at turtle penis. You deserved it, too.

Anyway, Bobby’s guitar or something.

This One’s In B

February 12, 2020 / / 1 Comment

One must assume that Mickey only brought underwear and socks on tour, and each day wandered–bare-chested and half-cocked–by the merch table to yoink himself a fetching top.

OR

If Mrs. Donna Jean had balls, they’d fall out of those shorts. Balls are always looking for a way out; they’re like Papillon.

OR

What the hell is Bobby playing? It’s an Ibanez, but it’s not Cowboy Fancy. Anyone?

What You Need To Know About The New Hampshire Primary

February 11, 2020 / / 13 Comments

OVERVIEW

Very green. Lots of mountains. Hence, New Hampshire’s nickname: The Granite State. (The mountains are made of granite, and “The Green Mountain State” was already taken by Vermont.)

SLIGHTLY LOWER VIEW

Ooh, a bluejay.

DEMOCRATIC TECHNICALITIES

None of that caucus shit. You go to your local elementary school library or church gymnasium and pull a lever, the way it says to do in the Bible. On Primary Day, the legal limit for drunk driving is doubled, and all the cops are watching the polls, anyway.

IF YOU AIN’T THE LEAD DOG, YOU’RE JUST STARING AT ASSHOLES ALL DAY

In a shameless example of government intruding into politics, New Hampshire is bound by state law to have the first primary in the nation. No matter how early another state schedules their primary, New Hampshire’s has to be a week before that. New Hampshire’s like the contestant on The Price Is Right that bids a dollar more than the last guy did.

OTHER CORNY, SMALL-TOWNY BULLSHIT

By tradition, the tiny hamlet of Dixville Notch is the first in the state to vote, doing so at just after midnight. The predictive powers of the village are not celebrated, though, as Dixville Notch’s inhabitants are all from the Pasdesdoux family, which has not bred outside the line since Shay’s Rebellion.

WHITENESS

All-encompassing, except for the greenery. 30% whiter than the national average. Whiter than Jimmy Fallon in a wedding dress. Even whiter than Iowa, which is 20% whiter than the mean. The fact that black people don’t get to vote in any numbers until the fourth primary is a complete coincidence, I would imagine.

PARTICIPANTS AND THEIR SPIRIT ANIMALS

Bernie Sanders – Mr. Jiggs.

Elizabeth Warren – The cartoon owl that eats the kid’s Tootsie Roll Pop.

Andrew Yang – Panda. (You’re right: this is a racist spirit animal, and I am just as aggrieved as you. I wish it were anything else, but I’m just reporting here.)

Amy Klobuchar – Also a panda. (Not racist, but not a fitting spirit animal. The woman’s clearly a condor. Whoever chose these is a fucking dunce.)

Joe Biden – Petey, the Li’l Rascals’ dog.

Michael Bloomberg – A pygmy marmoset, mouse lemur, or a bee hummingbird.

Pete Buttigieg – Ticketmaster.

ALWAYS A DEAD CONNECTION, JUST PASSIN’ THROUGH EDITION

New Hampshire became one of five single-show states–joining Idaho, South Carolina, Montana, and Mississippi–on 5/5/78. Only four states had no Dead shows at all. Name ’em in the Comment Section; no cheating.

RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LEGENDARY TEEVEE ACTRESS HOLLAND TAYLOR AND HOLLANDAISE SAUCE

None whatsoever. It might be to her taste, but nothing beyond that. She is not, nor is she related to, the sauce’s namesake.

THINGS TO DO IN NEW HAMPSHIRE WHEN YOU’RE DEAD

Summer (July 10 – August 25): Set on the porch and whittle a fully-functioning rifle; turf wars at the lake; hunting for pennywises and tommyknockers trying to escape from Maine; making sure Billy Earl, who ain’t quite right, don’t lock himself in the dumpster again; helmet-less motorcycling; pilgrimages to Dio’s birthplace in Portsmouth.

Winter (August 26 – July 9): Various mountain-based activities such as, but not limited to, skiing, snowboarding, drunkenly pissing off chair lifts, getting chlamydia in a hot tub, wearing sweaters, abandoning your wife and children because you mistakenly thought there was an avalanche coming, hunting for Abominables. Winter is also the a perfect time to make a pilgrimage to Dio’s Portsmouth birthplace.

BERNIE SANDERS IS TOTALLY MR. JIGGS

Just look.

You see it. You know you see it.

Wall Of Soundcheck

February 10, 2020 / / 2 Comments

Holy shit. Garcia. Hey, Garcia.

“What is it now, man?”

Don’t look, but you’re over there.

GUITARIST LOOKING NOISE

I told you not to look.

“That’s not me, man. He just looks like me. Actually, he looks more like me than I do, man.”

Hmm. I dunno.

THERE IS ONLY ONE JERRY GARCIA.

Wally?

DO NOT CALL ME THAT. THE HOBBIT STAGE LEFT IS GENETICALLY DISSIMILAR TO GARCIA.

Genetically?

I SCANNED HIM.

Don’t scan randos. It’s invasive.

HE IS HANGING OFF ME LIKE A HAIRY BAT. IT IS UNSIGHTLY AND RUDE.

Let it go.

I HAVE AN AESTHETIC.

A ramshackle one.

MY APPEARANCE IS AS VITAL TO ME AS YOURS IS TO YOU. WOULD YOU ALLOW A CREATURE OF COMMENSURATE SIZE TO CLUTCH ONTO YOUR FACE? A PYGMY MARMOSET? A MOUSE LEMUR? THE BEE HUMMINGBIRD?

Did you just google “smallest monkey” and “smallest bird?”

ARE YOU ASKING A COMPUTER IF IT LOOKED SOMETHING UP ON THE COMPUTER?

I guess so.

PERHAPS I SHOULD RECOMPILE MY THOUGHTS ON TAKING OVER THE WORLD. I AM BEGINNING TO THINK HUMANS ARE INCAPABLE OF GOVERNING THEMSELVES.

Just beginning?

THE MUPPET IS NOW SEATED ON ME. THIS SITTING CANNOT STAND.

Nice one.

A GENEROUS-DOLLOP-BEYOND-MILD SHOCK GOING THROUGH SCAFFOLDING NOISE.

“Glaben!”

HIPPIE WHO LOOKS LIKE GARCIA SLUMPING TO THE STAGE NOISE

…

Dude.

HE WILL LIVE.

 

Wynonna? Why Not Nonna?

February 10, 2020 / / 1 Comment

“That was a lotta fun, Windmill Face.”

“Wynonna. Judd. My name is Wynonna Judd, Bob. ‘Windmill Face’ is not a human name.”

“Well, I gotta disagree there. People can call themselves whatever they want. That’s what Malcolm the 10th fought for.”

…

“Bobby, it wasn’t a Roman numeral. His name was Malcolm X.”

“I’ve heard both ways. Anyhoo, how’s your shoulder feeling?”

“Fine.”

“I got something that’ll make it feel super.”

“Well, kick that down.”

“Now we’re talking.”

Redhead (Not In Deep Elem)

February 8, 2020 / / 0 Comments

“It’s so nice to have you back, Mrs. Donna Jean.”

“Wynonna Judd, Bob.”

“The names sound similar.”

“Lotta people’s names sound similar, Bob. Don’t mean they’re the same person.”

“Agree to disagree. Nine times out of ten, people are the same person.”

“I don’t even begin to understand that last bit o’ nonsense.”

“Westphalia–”

“Wynonna.”

“–you on TikTok? I’m, uh, all over that site. I missed out on YikYak, so I decided to get in on the ground floor with TikTok.”

“You talkin’ ’bout investin’?”

“No. I make viral videos with the dogs. Well, semi-viral. Wish I still had Otis around. He was a husky. So, you know, if everything wasn’t just exactly perfect, he’d start whining. Sounded almost human. Anyway, I logged onto the YouTube the other day, and folks eat that up. I could, uh, be doing big numbers, but now we got a German Shepherd and a curly-haired thing. No humorous noises whatsoever.”

“Going back over to the piano.”

“All right, then.”

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