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

Tag: bill walton (Page 9 of 10)

Questions Asked Frequently Since Last Time Questions Were Taken

So, what’s going on with the Grateful Dead?

Nothing. They disbanded twenty years ago.

Are you gonna start being a dick this early in the FAQ?

Sorry. I take your opening question to mean “What’s happened lately in specific offices, rehearsal studios, websites, football stadiums, 1100 movie theaters, and the Kauai bar and grill known as Shooter’s?”

Yes.

There will be two more shows in Santa Clara with the lineup from the Chicago shows.

I thought the Chicago shows were going to be it.

No. Not “it.” No one ever said that Chicago was “it.” They said Chicago was “final.” And the Santa Clara shows are before Chicago, which means they’re still the final shows.

Well, if a lawyerly distinction isn’t the essence of rock and roll, I don’t know what is. No shows on the East Coast, though?

Not unless they announce them tomorrow. Or at least before May 1st, because they’re going to sell a webcast package of all five shows.

Ah, yes: the webcast.

Right. Just announced today, along with pay-per-view through your cable provider on your big ol’ 60″ screen and subwoofers. Plus Bill Walton and a guy named Steve doing the commentary.

Uh-huh. Why does a concert need commentary?

Because it’s not a concert to the people getting pay-per-view: it’s a TV show. And to the people watching it on the webtubes, it’ll be an internet.

That’s a deep thought under the silliness.

Oh, I guarantee I’ll become astonishingly pretentious about it in the coming weeks.

Yeah, I can see that happening. Wait: weren’t they gonna do closed-circuit?

They still are, I guess. The only thing that makes sense is that the contract with Fathom called for a week to try to sell some tickets before announcing the infinitely better options.

Watching the shows in a movie theater sounds terrible.

I know: it’s like something from a Japanese game show. Without the tentacle rape, unless you’re in San Antonio.

I haven’t heard that.

What?

The tentacle rape thing.

Yeah: up to 30% of all San Antonio-ites have been tentacle raped at one time or another.

Who do the tentacles belong to?

Some say the ghost of General Santa Anna–

Stop this. Stop this now. It is not right and it’s not okay. It is the opposite of that Whitney Houston hit.

So young.

Be free, Whitney.

I need you to either do the FAQ and help people machete through the jungle of nonsense that is the world of the Grateful Dead nowadays, or just be quiet. Either one.

I got into this to help people.

Sure. Me, too.

Okay. Continue.

How much the webcast gonna set a fellow back?

$80.

That’s not bad, I guess.

Five nights of entertainment; fifteen hours of live music; two straight weekends in the company of Jefferson Davis Chimenti.

I did not know that was his full name.

Direct descendant.

Chimenti?

Well, you have to mix the genes up a little.

Wait. I don’t get what the difference between pay-per-view and a webcast is anymore. Can’t you view anything you want anywhere you want now? Isn’t that the point of 2015: our digital swaddle?

They will both come into the house via the same cable, or to your computer/device/watch/retinal implant over the same invisible beams, I suppose. The webcast might have one of those chat boxes, or an ability to switch between views, or some other nifty stuff.

The chat box is not nifty. The chat box is proof of God’s indifference

I agree. The only way I would be in favor of a chat box is if it were rigged somehow, Saw-style, and if you chatted in the chat box, your computer would snap shut, crushing your hands and possibly eating you.

Changing views is cool, though.

Totes.

And the pay-per-view?

I think bars and groups and parties and people with big honking theater systems will go for that.

Y’think Bill Walton will say some goofy shit?

That’s like asking if he’s gonna breathe, or convert food into energy, or tear his MCL. Of course he will.

Have You Heard The News?

As TotD predicted, there will be both Pay-Per-View and webcast feeds of both the Farewell Shoes in Chicago and Fare Thee Medium Well in Santa Clara, which is just a hop, skip, jump, and two-hour care ride from San Francisco.

Could you link to the post in which you made this prediction?

Shut up.

Thought so.

Bill Walton and a guy named Steve are doing the play-by-play and color because concerts need announcers, apparently; plus, Bill was gonna be there anyway. Give him a job in the booth and no one has to stand behind him. Good thinking.

Steve Liesman. He won a Pulitzer.

Was the Pulitzer in being a Deadhead? Achievement in the Field of Enthusiasm?

No.

Then, it’s not all that relevant, is it? Tyne Daly won a Tony: let’s have her do the color commentary.

What was the Pulitzer for?

Coverage of the Russian financial crisis of 2009.

Oh, I hope he talks over Brown-Eyed Women to give us some insight on the slow march towards death of the ruble at the lash of the billionaire criminal class.

He probably won’t do that.

Walton might.

Walton might do just about anything, man. That’s man’s out of two things: shit left in him to operate on, and fucks.

Tall Glass Of Milk, Short Glass Of Mick

Jerry Garcia 70th Birthday Celebration at AT&T Park in San Francisco on August 1, 2012

“So, Bobby mentioned something about you and him and milking, but he didn’t get into specifics.”

“Bobby’s a big picture thinker.”

“Milking.”

“Right, Mick.”

“You go to a farm? Bobby lives on a mountain.”

“Huh? What?”

“Nothing to milk on a mountain.”

“Plenty to milk on a mountain.”

“Such as?”

“I dunno. Mountain goats. Mountain lions. Mountain Girl.”

“None of those things lives on Mt. Tamalpais. Plus, I dare you to try milking two of those things.”

“It was just some guys milking, Mick. Having fun and milking.”

“What?”

“You know: let’s milk! And everyone’s there, or just the two of you, and it just kinda happens and then there’s milking.”

“Bill, I need you to tell me in plain language what you think ‘milking’ means.”

“Did you rape Bobby?”

“I should text him and see if we’re cool.”

Mickey Tried

29e8b906-b887-3c42-b050-2d469335e852“Coach Wooden taught me everything I know about milking. It begins with properly lacing up your boots, because otherwise you were gonna get poo on your foot. Doesn’t matter what you’re milking: it’s just interlaced with poo.”

“He’s talking about that coach of his again.”

“Joan, you’re here because you’re Mickey’s plus one: don’t talk shit about our friends.”

ps For as bad as Joan Baez sucks (really bad,) she is one fine-looking old lady. If Mickey didn’t follow her into the bathroom while dropping his pants, I’m disappointed in him. (Billy might have, but he does that all that time.)

My Mickey Jacket

IMG_1352

The insides of those much-coveted jackets were quilted and soft, but the outside performed the impressive trick of being made of satin, yet being so harsh to the touch, you felt as though your fingers might come away full of luxurious and shiny splinters.

Mickey has this jacket because Bill Walton gave it to him.

Mickey has that ponytail because Bill Lambeer gave it to him.

You know that makes no sense, right?

Don’t tell me what I know, dentist-fondler.

Go to bed.

That’s not the worst idea, probably.

Her Hair Was Perfect

Trixie Garcia, Bill Walton

I’m just going to put my dong on the table–

Please don’t do this.

–I intend to woo Trixie Garcia. WHY CAN’T YOU BE HAPPY FOR ME?

First off: what do you consider “wooing” a woman, and please don’t say–

Unsolicited dick pics.

unsolicited dick pics. There ya go: that’s the problem there. It’s that you’re some sort of fucking mutant who fundamentally misunderstands human relations.

Well, it wasn’t going to be my dick in the pics.

Whose dick was it going to be?

Kanye.

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