“Where the hell have you been?”
“I’m not in the band any more, Bobby.”
“Are you sure? We’ve got a rug. Usually, when you and me are standing on a rug, then that means the Grateful Dead is on the move.”
“The rug notwithstanding.”
“What exactly was it we fired you for?”
“I didn’t get fired, Weir.”
“Was it sexual harassment? Very popular these days.”
“Can we just figure out what we’re gonna play, please?”
“I got a great idea. When I was in Mexico, I learned a whole bunch of narcocorridas.”
“Let’s not get the cartels involved in this.”
“You should hear ’em. They’re plaintive as all get-out. We’d, uh, need several trumpeters and the same number of giant hats.”
“Let’s stick to the usuals.”
“I sing a couple of cowboy songs, you bleat out a few of Jer’s numbers, we doodle at each other for fifteen minutes, donor rap, we’re in the van before the lights come all the way up?”
“Bingo.”
I live for the Bobby convo posts
That was taken during the concert.
““I sing a couple of cowboy songs, you bleat out a few of Jer’s numbers, we doodle at each other for fifteen minutes, donor rap, we’re in the van before the lights come all the way up?””
Strikingly accurate
No one really stays at the hall / stadium after the show any more. If you do stay even a bit, it is so easy to get stuck in traffic, that you never get back to the hotel in time. If you do stay, you almost have to decide to just stay and stay at the gig until traffic is doable.
“when I go neer-neer, neer neer neer, you go be-bompa bompa bomp. I think”