Thoughts On The Dead

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

Today In Grateful Dead Bullshit

In a sad, see-through, and destined-to-go-sideways attempt to be helpful, TotD presents a one-time feature: What’s Everybody Bitching About Now? This shall be prefaced by another singular event entitled And Where They At?

Here’s what we know at around 7 PM, June 8th, 2015:

Everyone’s played their last gig, or in the case of Billy, had anal sex with his last bookstore employee. Bobby and Phil played last night at their* respective restaurants. Bobby had custody of Jeff Chimenti for the evening and Steve Kimock showed up; Phil was surrounded by mammals, as well. There were webcasts of both shows, but you had to shell out seven bucks for Phil’s and that’s all I have to say about that.

Billy has come off the road, washed the skank off his potato salad, and sent Benjy down to Little Aleppo for the most Hawaiian shirts ever made. (In what was a lovely gesture, Benjy offered Billy the use of his (Benjy’s) apartment, but Billy had specifically inserted into the contracts “I get to stay where the Pope stays,” so Billy’s got a place to crash.)

Mickey has posted yet another picture of this fucking thing:

mickey yam drumsPreviously, we had seen the yams Mickey planned to bang on while everyone else sat down for a while, but we now learn that there are technicians for the yams.

The gourds have their own roadies; some things are still just exactly perfect.

Now: Who’s Got Beef?

Grateful Dean got beef. He says things! and stuff! and other things that, to be honest, I could not follow. There are shenanigans afoot, and trouble ahead – he’s been taken aback!

If you can’t expect straight-shooting from a concert promoter who used to own a bowling alley, then what’s this world coming to?

Washington Post got beef, or at least tries to explain various beefs and levels of beefery. Will there be litigation? A class-action suit on behalf of people who couldn’t get quite as close to the stage as they desired? Did folks want to smell the band?

Old balls and good pot. The Grateful Dead smells like old balls and good pot. Now suck it up and sit in the damn loge.

Bill Walton got beef, in that he is planning to kidnap the surviving members of the Dead and force them to play in his basement.

Bring no vegans: there is beef here.

* Does Bobby own Sweetwater or not? He has to own a piece of it, at least, just from his bar tab.

15 Comments

  1. Who was the official rug supplier to the grateful dead?

  2. I can just picture some cranky asshole hate-writing Dead pieces for the WaPo, muttering “Damn hippies” and chain smoking like an actor from the 1940s.

    • Dude, the so-called mainstream media–especially the Wall Street Journal–has been giving this whole thing a major tongue bath.

      I do like the image of crusty old newsmen in their fedoras with the PRESS pass in the brim cursing the Dead, though.

  3. Kidding aside, there really is a lot of beef going around. I thought things were just frenzied at first due to the announcements of the shows and the ticketing hysteria, I was absolutely caught up in it myself. I HAD TO BE THERE. Then I got fucked, I mean lucked out with all the of the ticketing options and resigned myself to not going.

    But there are many who got tickets and are still frenzied or that didn’t get tickets and yet STILL HAVE TO BE THERE that are also frenzied. I wonder if, as a collective GD conscience, anyone knows why anymore.

    People who got tickets aren’t happy. People who didn’t get tickets aren’t happy. People who don’t like Trey aren’t happy. People who think Hornsby will break out the accordion aren’t happy. People who think Donna will sing aren’t happy. I mean, the list just goes on and on.

    And this is ON TOP of the regularly scheduled GD beef. $800 box sets that people with no jobs can’t afford but are entitled to. Bobby documentaries that end up being about Jerry. Billy books that ramble. Mickey.

    And this is why I like this blog so much and I truly enjoy the comments here. You, and the enthusiasts you’ve drawn to this site, get it. There’s been beef since Pig left and someone’s always going to have a problem with something. The circle of life. This beef too shall pass.

    The one thing I do lament is how monetized the beef is now. As mentioned, the Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Rolling Stone, Time – some legit media outlets – are publishing click bait on our beloved GD and it just makes things worse. Beef begets beef!

    Sigh, I don’t know. I no longer want to go to these shows, I’m ok with watching them on TV. But I’ll be glad when it’s over. And not July 6th. This one’s gonna take a while I think. I’m paying attention, I’ll keep my eye on the beef, but it’s exhausting.

  4. “They’re a band beyond description, Like Jehovah’s favorite choir
    People joining hand in hand While the music played the band, Lord
    They’re setting us on fire…

    …Keep on dancin’ thru the daylight, Greet the mornin’ air with song
    No ones’s noticed, but the band’s all packed and gone. Was it ever there at all?”

    I’m gonna make the effort from NYC… Seeing the Boys has always made the best memories… and also caused some of the biggest problems in my life…

    Still waiting for my promised mail order tickets (low fat beef)

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