Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: bob weir (Page 113 of 198)

Gym Rat(dog)

August 2, 2015 / / 0 Comments

IMG_1404“Oh, hi. I didn’t see you there, mostly because I’m facing the opposite direction, but I couldn’t help but assume you were admiring my overall backyard area: calves, hammies, and of course my ‘tocks, wrapped in the finest denim that Creepy Ernie helped me into almost a dozen times when I bought them.

“My name’s Bob Weir. Yes, that Bob Weir, but today I’m not speaking to you as co-author of the popular children’s book Panther Dream, but as a licensed gym-attender and shorts-wearer. Let me help you get the short shorts body you’ve always wanted.

“Science: short shorts are freedom. Fact: short shorts are the best. Truth: everyone wants to wear short shorts. Why don’t they? Fear.

“Fear is the short shorts-killer.

“Let that fear wash over you, though, and when it’s gone: Bobby will be there. And, I’ll have kettleballs or those stupid ropes dummies are always hucking up and down or maybe we’ll go for a swim or bike ride like civilized people. Neither of us will know what exercise we’re doing, or what equipment will be necessary for it, or even when and where to meet until we’re already sweating.

“I call it Bobbercise.

“We will hit the gym and life weights; we will hit the gymnasium and swing clubs around while wearing grey sweatsuits; we will hit the gymnasia and oil ourselves thoroughly and engage in pankration.

“Then we shall eat, and take pictures of our food, and weigh our food, and take pictures of the food on the scale; not in that order.”

“Dammit, Weir: could you concentrate on the damn song, please?”

“HE DOES IT, TOO!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, MICKEY!”

“COME BACK HERE AND MAKE ME!”

The Weirs On The Bus Go Round And Round

August 2, 2015 / / 0 Comments

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Sometimes late at night, Bobby drives the bus and he thinks about Europe.

He’s been back since, with the Dead and solo and for vacations, but he thinks about 1972 and the buses and their internecine fights and intramural squabbles, Pig dying quietly in the back in the back while the borders pass by: Lord Byron with a harmonica.

The Road Crew demanded hamburgers and Coca-Colas, and so did Garcia and the Godchauxes. And Billy. Bobby and Phil hit a nice restaurant or two, and Bobby tried to keep an open mind, but he was an American and wanted Chinese or Italian or Mexican.

You could still smell the War in the bricks over there in ’72, and there was a Cold one going on at the time: things were tense. The students were perpetually rioting; in the 70’s, they installed casters on the barricades because they were used so often. Borders were everywhere, and militarized, and occasionally a van would explode for reasons that no American could ever fully understand.

But, hot dam, did they play good. Dead against the world on that trip, it seemed. Never quite like that again. Egypt? Not really.

Some things you only get to do once.

Then, Bobby would realize he had lowered the shade on the bus’ front window and scream, ‘WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE,” and then he would drop the doobie he had going into his crotch and accidentally punch himself in the dick trying to grab it and let’s just say Bobby is not allowed to drive the bus anymore.

Get Lost, Sailor

August 2, 2015 / / 0 Comments

bobby back mickey smile
“I’m gonna knock that smile off your face, you slapdick.”

“Kiss my nuts, princess.”

“Play the song right.”

“No.”

“Play it right!”

“No!”

“I will throw a park bench at your chest.”

“Wonder how it’ll feel to have your mullet shoved up your ass.”

“Better then it’ll feel to have that cowbell shoved up yours.”

“You leave the cowbell out of it.”

“People have been asking you to do that for years.”

…

“Play the–”

“I DON’T WANNA.”

“–song right, Mickey.”

The Ruination Of Swaggie Maggie By The Lothario Bobert Weir

July 31, 2015 / / 0 Comments

bobby tank les paul 72…

“Um.”

…

“You okay there, fella? Need some green tea?”

PEOPLE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO LOOK THIS GOOD AND DO STUFF.

“We’re discussing my handsomeness?”

Yes. It’s supposed to render a human completely useless, this level of handsomitude.

“Well, that just wasn’t where my bliss lived, y’know?”

You’re starting with the bliss already? It’s ’72.

“You kidding me? Bliss was my second word.”

What was the first?

“Doggy.”

I can see that, sure.

…

Your hair just did that on its own, too, didn’t it?

“Woke up like this.”

Lockn’ Lol

July 31, 2015 / / 0 Comments

This is Saturday's lineup at
I’ll see you there, right? Highlight of my year: pooping in a Virginia field in September. Sleeping in a tent next to humping strangers, eating while I stand up, Warren Haynes: man, this is gonna be great.

TotD is not particularly fancy. I slept on a couch last month, but it should be noted that it was a leather couch in an AirBnB in a rapidly genritfying neighborhood. My living situation is allowed to be scruffy, but it must be permanent; I will not sleep under a nylon roof. Camping is just not for me.

Jews and camps…

Anyway, if you’re there or going or streaming it or whatever: have a blast, but I will be making love to my air conditioner. I do have some random thoughts, though:

  • Fishbone’s still around? Didn’t half of them get thrown in jail for kidnapping the other half?
  • Will Robert Plant be not playing Zep songs at the crowd again? Those fuckers at the Grammys rewarded him one time for not playing Zep songs and now all he does is not play Zep songs. Fuck that guy: play Zep songs.
  • Did anyone ever answer Robert Plant about the remembering laughter thing?
  • No Umphries? What the fuck, man.
  • Once again: fucked by Peter Shapiro.
  • I think Peter Shapiro’s in love with me the amount he fucks me.
  • I mean, the String Cheese Incident is gonna be there, so that’s awesome.
  • But, no Umphries.
  • Was Billy’s departure and Phil’s arrival worked out between the two camps as to not have them in the same place at the same time?
  • Just asking questions, man.
  • But, if so: you know Billy put Benjy on the phone to handle it just to be a dick.
  • Can you see Jill and Peter Shapiro pushing the phone back and forth at one another?
  • “You do it.”
  • “This is what you get paid for.”
  • “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
  • And so on.
  • Again: just asking questions.
  • Man.
  • Steve Earle is the musical version of The Wire.
  • Decipher that how you will.
  • WAIT: Billy is playing with Jefferson Airplane on Friday right after Phil!
  • Fun.
  • Also: Jefferson Airplane sucked. In every incarnation and in every way, and they are celebrating their 50th anniversary in a pasture in Virginia instead of a football stadium.
  • They’re not even headlining.
  • (Although, this group of musician is so far way from being the actual Jefferson Airplane that it includes G.E. Smith, who is still performing despite having the worst case of Les Palsy known to man.)
  • Hey! You got your String Cheese in my Doobie!
  • Hey! You got your Doobie in my String Cheese!
  • Well, you should probably just throw the results out, as it will surely be terrible.
  • Is Michael McDonald even going to be there, or just the guy who looked like he was the lead on WKRP?
  • The Oh Hellos, you go to your room and don’t come out until you’ve thought up a good band name.
  • You, too, Slightly Stoopid.
  • In fact, Slightly Stoopid: go fuck yourself with your deliberately shit band name.
  • Put some effort into life.
  • Mickey just announced that he would be playing with Bobby on Saturday night, and if Bobby doesn’t play Lost Sailor, I will lose all respect for him

Oh, No You Didn’t

July 29, 2015 / / 7 Comments

jerry bobby englishtown whatHere’s why this picture’s my new favorite of all time: it captures the precise second that Garcia notices someone eating his ice cream, and it also finds Bobby noticing that Garcia has noticed and being all, “OHHH! You are gonna GET IT!”

Bobby is two seconds from yelling WORLDSTAR and filming the altercation in portrait mode.

There is also a new chef in the kitchen because potato salad is the only thing on the menu.

Holes In The Knees Of My Buttocks

July 29, 2015 / / 8 Comments

phil teeth bobby shorts buttI would say that there are no words, but that would be a lie: I have many, many words for this, some of which I will make up.

As an appetizer, though: I believe this might be the only image ever captured of the back of Snake T-Shirt, and we can see that Snake T-Shirt is just as wonderful as we thought he was. Snake T-Shirt demands a 360-degree view of his awesomeness.

But for our meal, we must have goose, for it is as good as gander – Things Bobby’s Shorts Are Appropriate For:

  • Smoking Marlboro Reds outside the 7-11.
  • Using your youthful feminine wiles on chemistry teachers.
  • Arguing with your parents.
  • Running away from home because they don’t fucking understand you.
  • Going to LA to be a star.
  • A singer, maybe.
  • Or an actress, whatever.
  • And, listen: we all know where this is going, so let’s just skip to the part where they find parts of you in a dumpster in Toluca Lake.
  • Not all of you; they never find all of you.
  • Back home, your chemistry teacher hears the news and drives his car off a cliff.
  • Are you happy now?
  • Have you caused enough damage in those things?
  • If you were Australian, you could wear those to a wedding or a funeral or court.
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