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

Tag: keith godchaux (Page 8 of 17)

Is She Really Going Out With Him?

band 77 bw bobby longing

“Look at me, Mrs. Donna Jean! Hear my thoughts as I send them out towards your pigtails and modest, yet form-fitting, dress. READ MY MIIIIIIND, woman! Broadcast, Bobby does, his neurons and synapses doing…their…thing. I do not know what neurons and synapses do: no matter, my love!

 

“I know what my dong does. I know what it does to you. Remember that time you were going to sneeze, and I stopped up your nose with my penis? You thanked us both that day. Then, you sneezed on my penis. I was cool with that.”

“Shut up, Bobby. I’m ignoring you.”

“You CAN hear me!”

“You’re basically screaming across the psychic plane. My telepathic powers enable me to hear you if only you speak quietly.”

“It’s weird we’ve never discussed these telepathic powers before.”

“It is. Maybe we’ll discuss them at length in the coming days and then discard the idea again.”

“Love me, Mrs. Donna Jean! Love me back! Feel my gaze on your beauty, and my hands on your booty.”

“If you guys are done, Billy’s got a bunch of lines back here.”

“Who is this?”

“Get off the line.”

“It’s Phil. You two gotta cool it. Keith’s gonna figure this out.”

“Phil, you know that Keith is unable to hear any psychic conversations!”

“I did not know that. And it seems awful convenient. Irregardless, he wouldn’t even have to.”

“Yeah, Bob: your neck’s kinda losing its mind there.”

“Garcia?”

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Bobby, I gotta agree with everyone: you got a needy vibe coming off ya.”

“Who is this?”

“The skull Mickey’s holding.”

That’s enough.

Who We Missing?

band onstage 72 no phil bw

Reasons for Phil’s absence:

  • It was a Friday night show during Phil’s brief flirtation with orthodox Judaism.
  • It was a Tuesday night show during Phil’s long entanglement with orthodox alcoholism.
  • Takin’ a piss.
  • Ballin’ a fox.
  • Doin’ a line.
  • Saw a duck and ran terrified into the dressing room, slammed door, burrowed under couch, made keening noises.
  • Crowd surfing.
  • This was the only appointment he could get at the podiatrist for weeks. (Phil’s got corns.)
  • On line for the new iPhone.
  • At a playground slapping ugly children while telling them to “get used to it.”
  • Saw a carnival on the way to the gig.
  • Stepped in a normal-looking pile of leaves and a rope tightened around his leg and yanked him up to the ceiling.
  • In a crazy rich guy’s house, dressed as a kitty, and dangling from a rope as a living motivational poster.
  • Picking a fight with two Puerto Rican women in a Steak & Shake parking lot.
  • Galveston, Texas.
  • Charging (Light Brigade.)
  • Taking (Omaha Beach.)
  • Sieging (Stalingrad.)
  • Cross-dressing (Rocky Horror Picture Show screening in Petaluma.)
  •  Had Bobby draw him a map to the show and Phil is either in Narnia or East St. Louis, and either way he’s about to get stabbed.

Sell Everything

Besides the few items listed on the public Christie’s site, there are a number of lots only advertised in the catalogue. TotD brings you (some of) the rest of the upcoming Dead sale at Christie’s auction house.

  • Bobert H.W. Weir’s Short Shorts Acquired in 1992 by a thieving Cockney laundress, this item is sure to be the jewel in the collection of any “Bobby Man,” of which, Christie’s has been informed there are some. This item, expected to fetch around ten grand, has not been washed. By that, Christie’s does not mean that Mr. Weir’s shorts have not been laundered since our ownership: these shorts have never been washed.
  • Wall of Sound Schematics, 1974 These original blueprints, with authenticated hand-written notes from Owsley “Bear” Stanley, Bob Matthews, and (for some reason) Loni Anderson, were the basis for the legendary Wall of Sound, the Dead’s 1974 act of sheer hubris. [Christie’s warns you that reading from the schematics out loud does tend to summon one or more of the Abandoned Gods, and never any of the fun ones.]
  • Potsmoker Blues, by Robert Frank, Only Extant Copy In 1976, the Dead hired photographer Frank to film a documentary of their comeback tour, but the level of depravity he captured led the band to forbid the film’s exhibition. [Christie’s again feels the need to issue a warning: by “depravity,” Christie’s is not talking about mild or even heavy drug use, nor the dick-punching. This film is a like a real-life Cannibal Holocaust. At several points, Mickey sexually uses a goat to death.]
  • Mickolas Hart’s Horse, Snorter After the death of his beloved stallion, Mickey had Snorter stuffed. For reasons Christie’s cannot grasp, Mickey had the horse stuffed with live raccoons; when they got out, they were furious and Snorter’s hide needed extensive reconstruction and a re-stuffing, this time with a material neither clever nor sharp.
  • Philbert J. Lesh’s Old Liver For the first time, Christie’s is proud to offer an actual organ from a rock star. (Christie’s does apologize once again for withdrawing Neil Young’s large intestine; Mr. Young says he “needs it.”) The liver has been signed by Mr. Lesh and, for some reason, Loni Anderson.
  • A Cardboard Box Full of Gay Porn Starring Keith Godchaux This item is as described. Both the pornography and the box have been vigorously enjoyed.

Yes, We Have No Pianos

band 74 wos 7:21

Reasons for a backup piano:

  • First-string piano tears its ACL.
  • Leverage in contract negotiations.
  • Keith liked to play them both at the same time, stretching his arms out like Christ (if Christ were the keyboardist in Yes) to tinkle both sets of ivories. When Phil rightly pointed out that he wasn’t actually accomplishing anything, Keith fired back: “YOU’RE NOT–” and passed out.
  • There was a Buy One Get One sale at The Piano Barn and passing up that kind of deal is criminal.
  • Pianos should always be kept in pairs or they get lonely and often display obsessive behavior.
  • After the actual show, Keith, Bobby, and Mrs. Donna Jean would entertain a select few fans with their Fabulous Baker Boys routine. It was a failure because Mrs. Donna Jean is no one’s idea of a sultry chanteuse, Bobby does not really know how to play the piano, and Keith would burst into tears during Making Whoopie.
  • It’s where the drugs are stashed. Used to be a guitar case, then a speaker enclosure, now a piano.
  • It just followed the Grateful Dead home one day. The Grateful Dead’s mom was all, “You already have an enormous piano,” and the Grateful Dead was all, “I promise I’ll transport it around the country ar great expense,” and Mom was all, “Okay,” and the Dead was all, “YAAAY!”
  • Billy Joel might show up.
  • Due to a malfunction with the Time Sheath technology (Mickey played drums on it until it spazzed out,) the piano to the right is actually the same piano as the one on the left, except from ten minutes from now. It’s fine as long as they don’t touch because that would decreate the universe.
  • They started the tour with six; this is all that’s left.

The Falling Apart Of Things

To the crowd, it was a normal show: Bobby forgot the words to Truckin’, Mickey hurled drumsticks at a guest, Garcia was technically present. There were smiles on the stage, though. While this hockey arena still resonated with the last of our rocking power, we’ll be getting the Full Rock Star, the band thought. Like the Stones, or Zep, or The Who: we’re every bit as big as those bands, except in sales and popularity, so we deserve the same treatment!

They raced through Johnny B. Goode for an encore and exited: stage left. The cheers followed them past the drum riser, to the real show.

There is, of course, no recording of what happened that night and multiple eyewitnesses have multiple stories, but they all follow a similar timeline, except for one which mentions terror-dactyls, but that account did come from Lying Jimmy, so we’re discounting it. This is what we know:

The structural failure of the zip-line was both complete and immediate. Billy was the first to go because he pushed everyone else out of the way; he grabbed the handle and ZWANGCHWEEE the cable flew free in a deadly and unpredictable arc, sending Billy tarzanning around the room kicking bystanders in the heads. The line ran out of energy quickly and Billy wasn’t swinging around anymore, but he was still kicking anyone who came close to him in the head. His drunken, violent flailing is a metaphor for this whole incident.

With the destruction of the zip-line, there was now no way to exit the back of the stage. No stairs had been built, as everyone was positive the new protocols would work flawlessly. It was a good twelve feet. Phil tried first, edging his legs backwards, but gets frightened. He attempts to clamber back up, but lacks the upper-body strength; he hangs there like the bad guy in the last reel of an action movie. A Teamster gets beneath Phil, except his feet are doing this bicycle thing and whichever way you want to look at it, two members of the Grateful Dead are kicking people in the head.

Luckily, there was still some audience left in the arena. Luckier still is that they were a team of Chinese acrobats. They came backstage and, using only their bodies and incredible strength, created a human ladder from the stage to the ground. It was beautiful in a way and as Keith made his way down their bodies’ limber gossamer, he was careful not to touch their bits. Mrs. Donna Jean, for reasons that have still not been fathomed, straight-up stuck her finger up an acrobat’s butt. It was intentional: she had to get through clothing and eye contact was maintained the entire time.

This might have weakened the human ladder made of small Chinese nationals, but Garcia cannonballing into it was what broke it. It also broke most of the young women, some of whom will never acrobat again. Garcia was fine, as he went limp before the impact.

Leaving aside the reasoning behind the cannonball, we now find ourselves with all of the Dead on the floor of the arena, waiting to be be-robed, then taken to their fancy limos.

The valets have all been robbed and thrown out of the arena by the road crew. They have put on the musicians’ fine robes and prancing around like pretty, pretty ladies. A beauty pageant has spontaneously erupted: Ramrod won; Kidd was pissed.

Bobby’s “surprise” comes into play at this point. If one guy with a flashlight pointing the way was good, then one each would be better. The seven flashlight holders, however, had been dosed and were predictably wandering about the building at random. This was unfortunate in that big-time rock stars had been conditioned to follow without question the guy with the flashlight after the show. They are much like cats with laser pointers.

For far too long, the Dead followed various beams of light around the darkened back of the arena. Billy followed his light until it disappeared into the darkness; he wasn’t seen for two days, and when he came back, he claimed to have had adventures being a bounty hunter in space, but everyone was sure he just went to the track.

Mickey finally attacked the fellow holding the flashlight he was following and over time, got the rest of the band to follow him except Bobby, who had also wandered off after remembering that this was all his fault and he didn’t want to be in the room when everyone else remembered that fact.

Finally, Garcia, Mickey, Keith, Mrs. Donna Jean, Phil, and Brent got to the cars, where they made Brent go right back to the time he came from. (He said he was lonely.) It is here where the fatal flaw of beginning the Full Rock Star in Fresno became apparent. There weren’t seven limos waiting because there weren’t seven limos in Fresno.

There were two according-to-Hoyle limos, even though one was white and the other wouldn’t start. A couple guys had brought their old man’s Buicks which, to their credit, were hella-spacious. A Toyota. Van with dragon painted on the side. Beyond that, it was a total clusterfuck: asshole in a dune buggy, fucker in a motorcycle with a sidecar, shithead with a shopping cart.

Keith and Mrs. Donna Jean, who had been punching one another in the head since the moment the concert ended, commandeered the Buicks and began ramming them into one another. Everyone else looked at the white limo and got in the van.

Things were quiet on the way back to the hotel, until the kid driving got lost and everyone started yelling at him and Mickey took the wheel and immediately drove them onto a highway going the wrong direction.

When the group assembled that night, there were serious questions on the table: Whose fault was the failure of the zip-line? How could the robe issue be so bungled? What happened to the driver guy, Avi? It seemed like he was going to be a big part of this and he didn’t show up at all. What’s the deal with that?

All good questions, but ones only Bobby can answer, and he has wisely fled the scene.

The Dead would grow into the Full Rock Star–it’s impossible in just a logistic sense to play a football stadium casually–but not for a few years more. What did they learn? Almost definitely nothing. What have we learned?

What have we learned?

Thoughts On Shirts

Through much of the 70’s and 80’s, rock stars treated shirts as sketchy fees at a used-car lot, or a camisole on a stripper: they existed only to be taken off. The 1970’s star generally paired his skinny torso with blue jeans: if it was a summer show, that’s how 75% of the crowd would be dressed. (The other 25% were fat or women.). In the 80’s, muscles abounded: big capped shoulders tapering down into skintight leather pants.

(It should be noted, of course, that all rock stars alluded to are male. Lady rockers didn’t take off their shirts. This is partially based upon women generally not preferring to strip down in front of an audience, but mostly based on the fact that all of our opinions about women’s breasts were thought up by men and are obnoxiously stupid.)

(For instance: there is a parallel dimension just exactly the same as ours, except they consider the nipple to be the non-objectionable part of the female breast. That’s what they blur–after all, they figure, both men and women have nipples, so it can’t be the nipple that’s the salacious part. It must be the non-nipple portion since that’s only possessed by women, so on TV, all you can see is the nipple poking out like a little pink (or brown) eye from a big (or small) blurry face.)

(The Germans have a word for the part of the breast that is not the nipple: BoobenFleschen.)

Get on with it and cut the shit with the parentheses.

(One last one: there is a lady rocker that used to take off her shirt–Wendy O. Williams from The Plasmatics. She actually proves my point, as quite literally the only thing remembers about her was the shirtlessness. However, in a blow against patriarchal views on nudity, it should be noted that their music was dreadful.)

The Dead were most certainly not a bare torsoed kind of band. Where as some guitarists might respond to the heat by popping their shirts off, Garcia handled it a different way: refusing to leave his air-conditioned trailer. None of them went to the gym on a regular basis, except for Phil, who enjoyed jazzercise and stealing towels.

Brent was covered in prison tattoos.

Keith never removed his shirt (nor his scarves) for fear someone would see his belly button. It was an outie. But, more so: it was four inches long and an ashy pink; Keith couldn’t move the thing, but if you flicked it with your finger, it would go “wobbadobbadobba” and shake back and forth like one of those coiled doorstops that kids like playing with. He and Mrs. Donna Jean tried on several occasions to introduce it into a lovemaking situation; Mrs. Donna Jean was giving and game, but it was just too weird for her.

Another reason you’ll never see Garcia without a shirt: he was born without armpits. Very rare.

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