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

Tag: donna (Page 4 of 4)

Playing To The Tide

Seven individuals with disparate backgrounds get thrown together by chance, fate, and poor map skills to find themselves eternally stuck in a paradise that is beautiful, but also quite inescapable. Has the cast of Gilligan’s Island actually been the Grateful Dead all along? Did they merely intend to go on a 3 show tour of Guam, Diego Garcia, and Midway and get hopelessly shipwrecked, an occurrence almost definitely attributable to choosing to combine marine navigation with cocaine.

Obviously, Garcia is the Skipper. Same body shape, same propensity to pick an outfit and stick with it, same love of hammocks. Phil is the Professor. We know who Bobby is, don’t we?

This week, Phil the Professor has lashed together 20 palm fronds, 9 coconuts, some vine, and 85,000 of the largest amplifiers ever invented by man.  He will not tell anyone else where he got these things. His plan is to drop the biggest Phil Bomb ever and use the fronds as rudimentary surfboardsto ride the giant tsunami wave to civilization. Then he will eat all the coconuts. However, Skipper Garcia thinks there is more to the story. Plus, he knows this: to be in the Dead is to choose the most expensive option, always and eternally. Will I supersize that? I’m in the fucking Dead, what do you think?

Skipper Garcia tells Bobbigan that Phil has had the amps shipped in, meaning that there’s a boat somewhere on the island.

“Do you know what this means, Little Bobby?”

“Yeah, Skip! We gotta find that boat so we can…

“So we can?”

“…ask the crew for drugs! And to cook us brown rice. Skipper, no one has cooked me my brown rice in, like…forever. I miss it, Skipper. I miss my brown rice.”

Hat!

Professor Phil is trying to explain the plan to the Billy the Millionaire and his wife, Lovey Hart. Billy is wearing the blue jacket and little sailing cap that Jim Backus used to wear. You can totally see him in it, can’t you? Like now you can’t unsee it, right? It’s kind of fucked up. I hope I didn’t just ruin Billy for you forever.

Lovey Hart is recording a song cycle based on the Polynesian pookapooka drum that requires thirteen drummers playing 19 drums apiece. Prime numbers are very important to the Polynesians. Each drum is situated on its own island, so the drummers must helicopter from island to island at staggering expense, costing $800,00 and the lives of two drummers and a dog named Colin. Colin was also a drummer. The album will never be released.

And then in walk…Keith and Donna. As Ginger and Maryanne. Okay, the conceit breaks down at that point.

They Love Each Other

I’m not listening to the Donna songs. Sunrise, somesuch. Just not going to do it. They won’t be excised like drums/space from my library, but I’m skipping them.

Now, I am a Donna Defender. Go listen to 5/19/74 in Portland–and I have no idea which Portland because I will not be doing any research, thank you–to the way she matches Bobby’s every lyrical gesture in BIODTL.  She turns a tune so pedestrian that the only interesting thing about it is counting the beats in the introduction into a laid-back trifle full of sweetness.

And other times she howls like a banshee with the key to Hell’s executive bathroom. More than one time, she just out of nowhere lets loose with these yelps as if she had just gotten a good look at Keith without steeling herself beforehand.

Because, let’s face it, Keith’s face could most generously be called unfortunate. He looked like a muppet the dog had gotten to. Keith wore tightie-whities, I’d bet my life on it.

But Keith got bored and Keith started comping endlessly behind fucking everything. I think he was just asked the pronunciation of his last name once too often and snapped. What could he possibly have to be depressed about? He got to stay in a hotel every night, tonight in Normal, IL and tomorrow in Tuscaloosa, AL! Where he would get to play Estimated Prophet. Again. While fucking Bobby sleeps with his wife. Guy’s got it made.

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