Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: mickey hart (page 3 of 64)

The Great Wig In The Sky

Stop looking at Mickey, Jeff Chimenti.

“I can’t. His doohickeys are vibrating.”

Did he explain himself before the performance?

“Kinda. He said, ‘New Brent–‘”

He still calling you that?

“–I’m tired of being a Vulcan. I’m an Andorran now.”

Is that a Space Track reference?

“Maybe. I’m not a nerd.”

Good for you. Stop looking at him.

“He’s just so fascinating.”

In his own way.

Klaatu Barada Mickto

“I can’t even look at you.”

“Take me to your leader.”

“Not looking.”

“You’ve got a hat and I don’t give you shit for it.”

“Hat, Mick. I have a hat. You have an Andy Warhol wig and deelybobs on your head.”

“Still a hat.”

“Just because it’s on your head doesn’t make it a hat. When skank sits on my face, that doesn’t make them masks.”

“You’re looking at this with a very narrow view.”

“Can we not argue ontology right now? We’re playing Jack Straw too slow.”

“Take me to your leader.”

“This is why I get paid more than you.”

Madmen Across The Water

Is Elton’s hairpiece balding now? That guy’s skull truly does not want anything on top of it.


One time on the ’72 Europe tour, the Bozo bus was pissed and fighting. Bad vibes, man, and pointed silences. And then Bobby started singing Tiny Dancer. Everyone listened for a second, and then joined in with each other throwing shit at him and calling him names.


Elton John and Bernie Taupin were a better songwriting team than Lennon/McCartney. I will defend this opinion no matter how indefensible it is.


Are those mass-produced glasses? Because I cannot think of another human being who could pull them off other than Elton John. (Don’t let Josh Meyers see them.)


Mickey, is Sir Elton John sexually harassing you?

“A little, but it’s fine.”

It’s not fine.

“Sure, it is. He’s a knight. Prima nocte.”

Okay, first of all: prima nocte is a myth. Second of all: that is not what this is.

Droit du seigneur?”

That’s just French for prima nocte.

“I’m getting a real education here.”

Mickey, don’t put up with sexual harassment from Sir Elton John.

“I’m into it. The English harass in such classy ways.”

How so?

“When he grabbed my dick, his pinky was out.”


“I can handle myself.”

Okay, man.

“Is it okay if I send him to Josh’s dressing room?”


They Want To Lead The Glamorous Life



Do I want to know what’s in the sack?


Is it–

“Not a human.”

–a human? Okay.

“Just let this one go, boss.”

It’s gonna be tough.

“Suck it up.”

Mickey’s raccoons?

“Let it go.”


Mick, Dick, Prick

“Simmer down, Mick.”

“No! I’m gonna fuck this cheesy Danish up!”

“Nice one.”


Billy has completed his transformation into Richard Harris as Marcus Aurelius.


“Shit, Larry, I’m impressed.”


“It takes two of us to fuck up the time as well as you do all by yourself.”


“Pull my finger.”

“I’m not pulling your fing–”

“I’ll do it, Mick!”


“Windy one.”

“I had Bok Choy for dinner.”


“You owe me money, fucker.”

“I’ve never borrowed money from you, Mickey.”

“I know. I didn’t say that. I bought Lulu. You owe me money.”


“Hey, remember that movie you guys made where the only guy who wasn’t a complete asshole wasn’t in the band anymore?”

Say Hey, Mickey

Hey, Mickey.

“I got a new hat, too!”

You did. It’s spiffy.

“Thank you. I yoinked it.”

From where?

“The mall.”

Mickey, that’s not yoinking. That’s just shoplifting.

“Semantics are for lawyers. I’m a drummer. I see a hat I like, I yoink the hat. You think Billy paid for his?”

Oh, of course not. Billy hasn’t paid for anything since 1967.

“The man charges his tuggers back to the band. Plus, he shakes Black Phil down for his per diem.”

Oteil. The man’s name is Oteil.

“I don’t think that’s right.”

Let’s move past it. You all ready for the tour?

“Fuck, yeah. Been ready since…since…”

The last tour ended?

“About there, yeah.”

Got everything all packed up?

“Yup. 20 cases of chewing gum.”


“You’ll like this. In addition to the clogs, I will also be playing galoshes this tour.”

Wow. What song.

“It’s a surprise.”


“I have a number of hats to troll Bobby with.”

Oh, not just the sailor’s hat this time?

“I’ve gone bigger. To show my dislike of Lost Sailor, I will be donning an old-fashioned diving helmet this tour.”

Sounds right.

“And I’ve got a little striped engineer’s cap for Casey Jones.”

You’re all set.


Go get ’em, tiger.




What the fuck?



“We thought it provided an incongruously beautiful mise-en-scene.”


“Fucking with ya. I got no idea why we put that up.”

What are the monitors propped up on?

“Pizza boxes full of sand.”

It’s the Grateful Dead way.


This Way And That

The true depths, the abyssal reaches, that the Dead’s bush leagueosity permeate to are revealed when you realize that they couldn’t even all face in the same direction most of the time.

What John Mayer Was Doing In My Pajamas, I Have No Idea

Go read Groucho: The Life and Times of Julius Henry MarxIt’s a much sadder story than you’d think.

And then go watch Duck Soup. It’s much funnier than you remember.

I Spy With My Little Eye…

  • Classic iPod. (Behind Mrs. Donna Jean.)
  • Amazon Echo. (In between Mrs. Donna Jean and Garcia.)
  • Two iPads. (To the left of Billy and Mickey.)
  • Phil’s booty. (Behind Phil.)
  • Precarious Lee’s handiwork. (Bottom left.)



Is that a humidor?

“On top of the monitor?”


“Nope. Ashes.”

Human ashes?



“Don’t worry about it.”

Is that secure? That angle is rather…



“It’ll be fine.”

Will it?

“Should be.”

Your words don’t fill me with confidence.

“I duct taped it.”

Oh, well, then it’s fine.

“I know.”

I was being sarcastic.

“I know. Don’t care.”

Older posts Newer posts
%d bloggers like this: