Hi. How are you? I’m fine. I went to a baseball game the other day. Do you like baseball? Further pleasantries.
John, I noticed you did an interview with the New York Times recently with the writer Joe Coscarelli; do you think it went well? I can never tell with these things, and I certainly can’t discern intent from the excerpts he posted the next day of quotes cherry-picked to make you look like an asshole. On the other hand, you are like a goddamned cherry farm, John Mayer. Everywhere you look, there are cherries of various ridiculousness.
I’m the only one who’s gonna tell you the truth, John: you’re never getting another fair shake from a reporter, at least not one who works for a respectable organization. Every single longform, glossy-paged article about you for the rest of your career will be: A, rehashing of past dumb shit you’ve said; B, them letting you ramble on in hopes that you’ll say new dumb shit.
And you’re gonna say dumb shit:
What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop talking about “exclusive dating apps” to writers from Brooklyn, because it makes them hate you. “Coscarelli.” Probably an anarchist, and you’re whipping your gold-plated dick out at him and then you wonder why the Times ran a hit piece on you.
WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? You’re talking to a reporter. He probably has to sell his own blood to afford drinks, and you’re bragging about how much you spend on Japanese trousers. AND WHY THE FUCK DO YOU NEED JAPANESE TROUSERS, JACKASS? Something so wrong with you, man.
Here is my offer:
I notice that you will be appearing in South Florida this summer. (Summer is the best time to visit. If you don’t visit in the summer, then it’s not 102 degrees with swarms of flying cockroaches dive bombing you.) I will come to your concert and teach you how to behave during interviews; I will train up a Rock Star. These services will be free, but I have many demands.
- Tickets. (Obviously.)
- Parking. (Also obviously.)
- Full and unfettered access to catering.
- Merch yoinking privileges.
- You will be called Josh.
- I don’t know if you do any Dead songs in your solo shows, but if you do Playing in the Band, I must be allowed to perform the Donna Wail.
I await your reply. In the meantime, speak with no members of the media except Gans or Lambert.
Thoughts on the Dead