“Good evening. We welcome you, on behalf of the lonely weirdo.
“This is our first night in the new hall, and we hope you’ll bear with us. My staff and I have been working frantically for the past week to get the place ready, stopping only to play pickup basketball games, eat kischka from Ratners, and bribe city inspectors. I also threw many, many people out of my office while screaming at them in Yiddish, but I can do that and something else at the same time. Bill Graham invented muti-task–
“YOU! GET YOUR FEET OFF THE FUCKIN’ SEATS! YOU! BLUE SHIRT!
“Thank you. I mean, c’mon! We’re all here to get loose and get down and get up and maybe get next to one another, but keep your feet off the seats. Does Bill Graham come to your house and fuck the ficus?
“All right, so: it is our first night here, like I said, and we think we have the kinks all worked out, but we hope you’ll bear with us. One thing, though: no poo-poo. Pee-pee all you want, but if anything denser than cotton candy gets flushed, we’re probably all going to die. We’re gonna have that worked out by the 11th, when Humble Pie is slated to appear, but until then, the barrels that we usually fill with apples will have bananas in them.
“I went back to my apartment this afternoon, take a shower, new clothes. Walking back, a kid sees me, and he’s way across the street, I don’t know how he saw me.
“‘BILL! HEY, UNCLE BILL?
“He’s screaming, right?
“‘Nu?’ I yell back.
“‘IS THERE A SHOW TONIGHT?’
“Didn’t ask who was playing. Couldn’t care less who was playing. Just wanted to know if there was a show tonight.
“There’s a show tonight. Thank you for coming to the show.”