Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: page mcconnell

Bright-Eyed Katy

“Pretty lady is pretty, Trey.”

“She is, Page, but she’s more than just a pretty lady. She’s a big-time reporter.”


“She’s not secretly Superman, Page.”

“Oh, right, right. Okay.”


“No, Page. All reporters are not secretly Superman. I don’t know who told you that, but they were messing with you.”

“Is she Spider-Man?”

“She has no super-powers at all, buddy. Although, she put up with Keith Olbermann’s bullshit for a few years, so maybe she does.”


“Big media joke, pal. Don’t worry about it.”

“What does she do?”

“Katy? Well, she covered the Trump campaign for NBC.”

“He is bad!”

“He is, buddy.”

“I don’t like him!”

“I’m with you.”

“He is orange! Presidents should be black!”

“Could not agree more, man.”

“Trump should not be around Katy. He will chain her up and make her wear a metal bikini.”

“She’s safe now, Pagey. She’s with us.”

“Okay. I like her better than Jake Tapper.”

“Everyone does.”


“Yeah, buddy?”

“What doughnut is it?”

“We’re not doing that anymore.”


The Grand Delusion


“Trey, are those letters on the smelly lady’s dress?”

“No, Pagey. Those are just donuts.”

“I like donuts.”

“You sure do.”

“Too many makes my tummy hurt. And then I need the potty.”


“No, I need the potty.”

“Oh. It’s right over there, buddy. Do you need me to go with you?”

“I can do it! All by myself, I can do it!”

“Okay, okay.”

“Will you still be in Phish when I get back?”



“Trey, I can’t keep it up much longer. I’m gonna say something.”

“Fishman, you shut the fuck up or I’ll split your lip.”

“How long we gotta pretend we don’t know!?”

“When Page wants to tell us he’s not retarded, then he’ll tell us! It might be, like, psychologically damaging or something.”

“Dude, it’s not like waking a sleep-walker.”

“You’re actually supposed to wake sleep-walkers.”

“Oh, totally: they could fall down the fucking stairs.”

“Right? Such a stupid myth. Trey, I’m gonna say something.”


“Why not?”

“Fishman, have you ever seen Page’s contract? Didn’t you ever wonder why you got so much more than a quarter of the money?”


“I was trying to call his bluff! No one would ever sign what he signed unless…you know…but I’ll give it to the fucker: he commits to a lie.”

“Did he even read it?”

“Pretended that he didn’t, but I walked out of the room for a second and when I came back he was crying.”

“Sounds right.”

“Signed ’em, though.”


“So dummy up.”


“Hello, Trey! I love you, but I could not put my button back in my pants. Will you help?”

“Sure, buddy.”

“Hey, guys? Do I ever get to be a part of this?”

“No, Mike.”

“No, Mike.”

“Trey, the mean man is being mean again.”

“See what you did, Mike?”

“You ruin everything, Mike.”

S Is For Truth


Hey, Page. Whatcha doing?

“I drew on the shape!”

That’s a letter, buddy.

“From my pen pal?”

Not that kind of letter.

“Ohh! Trey is teaching me them, but they are so confusing.”


“So many!”

Not really, buddy. 26.

“Is that this many?”

Put your hands down, Page. People can see.

“Okay. Do you know Trey? Trey the Phish?”

Trey is a Phish.

“NOT a Grateful Dead! Do you know how many kinds of pickles there are?”


“YES! I cannot keep–”

“All right, listen, and if you mention what I’m about to tell you to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll find out where you live and slit your throat in your fucking sleep.”


“Don’t call me that, asshole.”

What’s happening here?

“I’m not actually retarded. I got stuck in this weird lie when I met the rest of the band, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”


“I was just trying to make them laugh! It was our first rehearsal, and I started doing the voice. Just to get a laugh, but THEY BELIEVED ME and now I have no choice but to go with it.”

It’s been 30 years.

“Right! If I had come clean after a decade, then it would have been weird, but still acceptable. You can move past a decade-long lie. But 30 years? Nah.”

You’re locked in.

“A little, yeah.”

Any upside?

“Very little responsibility.”


I Ain’t No Senator’s Son


“What now, Bob?”

“Good question, Troy. The, uh, tour’s over. Got a gig or two. Should probably start on that TV show they paid me to do a year-and-a-half ago.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Then, you know: huh. Lot of possibilities. Garcia’s briefcase is missing. I got a Victory Lap to do. Josh and Katy are due to get into some shenanigans any minute. Storyline after storyline.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Troy, are you familiar with the concept of semi-fic–”


“What is it, Page?”

“My dad’s here.”

“Oh, no.”


“I disapprove of all of this.”


“Oh, here’s a storyline, Troy. They just pop us like this.”

“Bob, why is everything always so fucking weird around you?”

“Excellent question.”

Voting Is Fuego, Kids





“Dammit, Pagey, I’m holding up a sign right now.”

“I can’t do my belt.”

“I’ll help you in a minute, buddy.”

“What do those shapes mean?”

“It says ‘Go Vote.’ People have to vote this year.”

“I vote for spaghetti and meatballs..”

“We’re not voting for lunch, Page. We’re voting for a president.”

“Then I vote for the happy man with ears. His name is Madonna.”




“He smiles and his wife is pretty.”

“Yes, but he can’t be president any more, buddy.”

“But I want him to be.”

“Lot of people do. But he can’t. It’s a rule.”


“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Blank Page


“Please don’t take Trey, Mr. Bobby.”


“Him. My friend who smiles and solos.”

“Ah. You call him Trey? Is that short for Troy?”

“I don’t understand, Mr. Bobby. Trey is Trey, and he is my friend.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna take him.”

“Trey is a Phish. I am a Phish, and Mike who is mean to me, and the smelly lady who plays drums. And Trey.”


“And you cannot be a Phish. There are four of us. That is why ‘four’ and ‘Phish’ start with the same letter.”

“Can you read, buddy?”

“Trey is teaching me, Mr. Bobby.”

“Since when?”

“We met in 1985.”


Get On The Same Page


“Why is Bobby here, Trey?”

“He’s just sitting in with us, Page.”

“No. Guitarists stand. I sit.”

“He’s going to play music with us.”

“I love playing music!”

“I know, buddy. Me, too.”

“He’s not going to try and take you away again, is he?”

“No, Page.”

“You are a Phish! Not a Grateful Dead!”

“I’m a Phish, Page. Now and forever.”


“Pinky swear.”

“I got scared when you left last summer.”

“I know, Page.”

(Check out the show here.)

Worlds Collide (In HQ)

Here’s something else that has nothing, nothing at all, to do with the flaming wreckage of a failed experiment our republic and culture has become: Phil and some very special Phriends from the Warfield in SanFrancisco on 4/15/99. Trapqueen Applefucker and Page from The Phishes joined Phil, along with Steve Kimock and John Molo, and the whole thing kicks ass, starting with the half-hour Viola Lee. Grateful Deads are playing Phosh music, Phishes are playing choogly tunes: mass hysteria.

And, for your convenience, below is the set list and you can just click on whichever time code you want. I do things for you people.

Set 1 0:00 Viola Lee Blues 33:58 Big Railroad Blues 44:02 Jack-A-Roe 50:00 Cosmic Charlie 1:02:42 Wolfman’s Brother 1:16:50 Uncle John’s Band

Set 2 1:41:43 Alabama Getaway 1:50:33 Sugaree 2:12:59 Like a Rolling Stone 2:23:50 I Know You Rider 2:37:50 Row Jimmy 2:47:23 Shakedown Street 3:06:38 The Wheel 3:15:54 Not Fade Away
Encore 3:30:35 Donor Rap & Band Intros 3:33:45 Mr Tambourine Man

Phriends Like These

phil and phriends

Tahoe geezer.

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