Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: sweetwater cafe (Page 1 of 2)

It Gets A Hat When It Earns A Hat

February 23, 2020 / / 0 Comments

What is this all about?

“The, uh, Wolf Bros have taken on a Pup.”

Don’t call him that.

“Kid’s coming on the tour with us. He’s gonna be New Josh. Just as cute, and far fewer regrettable interviews. And, uh, I can pay him much, much less. Kid’s a winner all the way ’round.”

Do you know his name?

“Not as such. But I could pick him out of a crowd. Especially if the crowd was made up of the Wolf Bros. He stands out.”

Matt Jaffe is his name.

“Oh, no. Matt is Matt Busch’s name. Can’t have two Matts on one bus. Terrible luck.”

Is it?

“It’s like going to the theater when you’re named MacBeth. Bad hoo-doo.”

Didn’t know that.

“Way more name-related superstitions than you’d imagine.”

I learned something here.

On Behalf Of The Group…

February 15, 2020 / / 1 Comment

Hey, Bobby. You let Parish on the mic, huh?

“This one’s on me, yeah. He said he was gonna introduce the band.”

Is he telling a story that starts off about Garcia, and then switches to being about the best weed he ever smoked in Fresno, and then about different apartments he rented over the years?

“Oh, you’ve heard that one?”

I have.

“Now he’s pitching the crowd on time-shares in Oaxaca.”

Bad investment.

“Sure. Smart money’s in Chiapas.”

I read that.

Bobby Serenades The Youth

January 9, 2020 / / 2 Comments

“And, uh, that’s why you can’t date either of my daughters. They’re off the market since that traveling salesman’s car broke down in front of the A-frame. Nothing but hijinks that evening.”

“I don’t wanna date your daughters, Bobby. I’m in the band.”

“Ah. I see it now. You’ve cut and dyed your hair.”

“I’m not Jeff Chimenti, Bobby.”

“Most people aren’t. Vast majority of the population, in fact. No one in all of China is Jeff Chimenti, and there’s a billion of ’em. Those kinda odds, you’d figure there’d be three or four Jeffs over there, but not one.”

“Matt. My name is Matt. I’m in the band that’s playing Sweetwater tonight.”

“I know that place.”

“You own it.”

“Your statement doesn’t preclude mine.”

“Yeah, true. When did you decide to buy the place?”

“My, uh, accountant actually made that decision for me. At a certain point, it became financially smarter to buy the joint than to pay my bar tab.”

“I feel like I’m learning a lot about the music industry.”

“Me, too.”

Bobby Teams Up With The Youth

December 28, 2019 / / 0 Comments

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“I guess I’m doing one of those fantasy camp deals.”

No.

“Always managed to avoid ’em. God bless the Deadheads for that. There were some lean years, but ticket sales were never so bad I had to jam with randos.”

It’s a bit disheartening. But that’s not what you’re doing. That is a young man named Matt Jaffe. He was playing Sweetwater, and you were there getting drunk, so you jammed with his band.

“That sounds like me. Gosh, he’s young. Shouldn’t he be playing an app?”

Kids still play guitar, Bobby.

“Yeah, well, maybe. Tell you one thing: I dunno if I trust his haircut.”

Me, either.

If You’re Named Bill, You Get To Play The Drums

September 3, 2019 / / 0 Comments

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“I thought you were dead.”

Hurricane missed us. Barely even squalled.

“Well, uh, that’s good, I suppose.”

Thank you for the endorsement.

“Just saying that if you had died, then Phil could have used your back.”

You can’t transplant a back.

“Not with your insurance plan, no, but Phil’s got Cadillac coverage.”

Sure.

“No co-pay.”

Nice. What’s Walton doing?

“Attacking life with a zestful glee. And, uh, whacking the bongos.”

Congas.

“Do I look like Mickey? Foreign drum’s a foreign drum.”

Is he miked?

“He thinks he is.”

You’re a good friend, Bobby.

“Yup, sure.”

I Thought That Friday Was Hawaiian Shirt Day

August 5, 2019 / / 2 Comments

Oh, no.

“Hey, pal.”

Bobby, please tell me you’re not gonna be a Hawaiian Shirt Guy.

“Well, I’ll tell you what happened. I, uh, changed my latitude–”

Goddammit.

“–and, wouldn’t you know it, I changed my attitude.”

You will not turn into Jimmy Buffett on my watch, buster.

“Here’s the thing: I’m a pirate–”

YOU’RE A COWBOY.

“–and I was, uh, looking at 50.”

50? 50!? You stopped looking at 50 two decades ago.

“I’ve also decided to start lying about my age.”

You’re exhausting.

“Hey, I needed something to do after winning my feud with Huey Lewis.”

“WINNING?”

“You didn’t win shit!”

“SCREWIS YEWIS, HEWIS!”

Boys, boys.

This FaceApp Thing Is Out Of Hand

July 18, 2019 / / 2 Comments

“Who’s this jamoke?”

“This? He’s, uh, Top of the Pops. Tom of the Dell. Something in that neighborhood. He writes about us.”

“Seems squirrely. Want me to bop him?”

“No, no. He’s okay.”

“I got my knife. I could saw through his achilles tendon real easy.”

“Overkill. Parish, he’s fine.”

“I got my eye on him.”

“Why do you think I’m so relaxed?”

…

“Parish?”

“Yuh-huh?”

“What, uh, exactly is going on with you and that blonde guitarist who’s young enough to be your granddaughter?”

“Purely Platonic.”

“Ah.”

“In the sense that Plato was Greek, and so I meant we only do anal.”

“Ah.”

Sara Smile, Smile, Smile

September 28, 2018 / / 3 Comments

“Do, uh, horses ever try to eat you?”

“I’m not actually made of oats, Bob.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I thought you were confused about my name. Oates.”

“I had absolutely no idea what your name was. I’ve been asking everyone about the horse thing.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I was kind of the Oates in the Dead. Except, you know: good-looking. And I got to sing lead half the time. So, really, not the Oates at all.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, uh, my lawyer wants me to ask you something. Did you remember listening to He’s Gone before you wrote She’s Gone?”

“Your lawyer, huh?”

“He’s a curious fellow.”

“I don’t recall.”

“Huh. Well, do you have any detailed calendars from 1976?”

“I don’t.”

“Just asking.”

Lord, Jack Was Born A Ramblin’ Man

November 7, 2016 / / 1 Comment

bobby-ramblin-jack

Hey, Ramblin’ Jack. Whatcha doing?

“Same thing I been doing for 65 years.”

Singing cowboy tunes?

“Yup.”

85 years old.

“Yup.”

Lemme ask you something: this the worst you’ve seen the world?

“Ever read a history book, son?”

Yes.

“So, you wanna retract that question, or just leave it sit as a monument to stupidity?”

I see your point.

“Everything’s better now than it used to be. Easier. Maybe too easy, but that’s another conversation.”

Except the air and the water.

“You know rivers used to burst into flames for no reason, right?”

Uh-huh.

“Now they don’t.”

Guess we can thank Nixon for that one.

“Smaller that guy gets in the rearview, the better he looks.”

Well said, Ramblin’ Jack.

“Ain’t gonna be no revolution, kid. The dumb folks are too lazy and the smart folks are otherwise occupied.”

“SHHH!”

Excuse me?

“Ahh, that ain’t me.”

“SHHH!”

Bobby Tee-Shirt, stop shushing people.

“SHHH!”

FUCK YOU, SHIRT!

“SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

FUCK YOUUUUUUUU, SHIRT!

…

“Bob?”

“Yeah, Ramblin’ Jack?”

“Your shirts often come to life and get into arguments with offscreen narrators?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. Are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?”

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