Thoughts On The Dead

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

The Last Time

We are done with the Rolling Stones, I promise you that.

But: have you ever wondered if there were things that you might overhear at BOTH Stones and Dead shows? Like, sentences, phrase, or questions that you could say at either place and they would make sense?

I think they understand the premise.

Hope so.

  • Keith has passed out again.
  • The Hells Angels are here.
  • Which Chuck Berry song should we open with tonight?
  • Where are my opiates?
  • I cannot solo interminably without my opiates.
  • Why did you spend the bail money on drugs?
  • I’m sorry, Mick: they didn’t have grape Fresca at the store.
  • I don’t even know if it’s a thing.
  • If you want, I could mix 7-Up and Welch’s together.
  • Did you want grape Fanta?
  • That’s a thing; I got that; done deal on the Fanta.
  • Help me quench your thirst, Mick.
  • If we see the judge’s daughters, we’ll be sure to let you know, officer.
  • Please put the knife away.
  • Sam Cutler dosed you? Sam Cutler dosed me! Jesus, how many people did Sam Cutler dose? We should go kick his ass.
  • I wonder if the clothing the band is wearing is available for purchase? (Later Stones tours/Fare Thee Well only)
  • Closing with Satisfaction?*
  • There’s no such thing as Mister Pepper, Mick.
  • No, it’s not “the drink for the common man,” Mick.
  • It’s just something you made up because you, Mick, are a legendarily difficult human being.
  • The people in this room are responsible for what happened at Altamont.
  • Do you smell a couch on fire?
  • Maybe a stuffed chair or love seat: anything that can smolder?
  • Are you in the band or are you a drug dealer?
  • Or are you one of those mysterious types with neither visible means of support nor purpose that managed to affix himself to the group?
  • No, Mick, you cannot have a Diet Tab.
  • Tab is already a diet beverage; it cannot be dieted any further without resorting to mad science.
  • No, I don’t know any mad scientists, Mick.

*Listen to this: it’s all wobbly, but the energy is stupid high and Bobby does the band introductions in extemporaneous rhyme and instead of being too cool for the old gag, everyone leaps in and starts soloing when their name gets called, especially Garcia, who has far more gusto than you would expect from a man who would be in a coma that weekend.


  1. Hoorays yalls! Imagine my delight when, against my better judgement, I checked back in to see if you were feeling better and, whoomp dae it is!

    I did turn in a vid of a cute blondie painting to the tune of crazy fingers; however, it was a studio version and prob didn’t meet most of the requirements specified in the assignment rubric.

  2. how can this be the last one when keef’s first solo in (seems like) decades is imminent? hah!

  3. That Satisfaction is by far the best part of that otherwise miserable show. Pretty sure you could smell Garcia from the cheap seats at RFK, and the Dylan set from earlier reeks of bourbon. But the Satisfaction is one for the ages.

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