Bob Wire Has a Point (It's Under His Hat)
I’m Ready To Give This Deadhead Thing a Try
If you think I'm kidding, just start watching 'Cops' in about six weeks.By Bob Wire, 6-05-09
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| This will be my home for the next three months. See you in the fall. | |
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Summer’s here and the time is right for dancing with the ‘Heads.
I’ve sold the 4Runner and found a ’68 VW Safari van that is already being refurbished for a summer on the road. I haven’t cut my hair since last year, and after a three-day fast (taking only Double Haul IPA for nourishment), I’m seeing my immediate future as clear as a box of rain:
I’m going to spend the summer following the Dead.
I’ve been listening to American Beauty, Anthem of the Sun, and Aoxomoxoa pretty much nonstop for the past week, as recommended by some fine Dead fans who commented on my blog. I really like saying, “Aoxamoaxoa” after a couple of tokes, making sure to roll the R’s smoothly. Once I finish digesting the albums that start with the letter A, I’ll move on through the alphabet all the way to Workingman’s Dead. What a long, strange trip it’ll be.
As soon as my home on wheels is ready to roll, I’ll be heading to Roxbury, Michigan for the Fourth of July show. I’ll stock the tiny icebox with Vitamin Water and tabouleh, crank my solar-powered cassette player up, and start looking for a hitchhiking woman. But I won’t stop for just any hippie child, because when life looks like Easy Street, there is danger at your door. Also, I’m not going to bother buying tickets, because I’ve been weaving friendship ankle bracelets to sell in the parking lot. I’m sure some kind souls will be willing to work a trade.
Sure, The Dead is not the same animal as The Grateful Dead, but they’re closer to the real thing than Phish. It’ll be my first Dead show ever, and I’ll be paying attention because once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right.
I’d love to stick around Missoula this summer, but there’s nothing shaking on Shakedown Street. So it’s just gonna be me, Bob, Mickey, Phil and Bill. And about a hundred thousand other wayfarers, following their bliss as they trail the band across the country, rolling in the rushes, down by the riverside.
As you might imagine, I get a ton of weird email meant for Bob Weir. But I don’t blame him. It’s just misdirected love, man. I always write people back and say, hey, if you’re ever in the Bay Area, come crash at my place. And bring your friends. Come hear Uncle John’s Band. I’m in the book.
Sure, there’s only one show scheduled right now, but there just ain’t no way the guys will be able to come off the road once they get a load of the sheer power of honky tonk love and mind-wrap I’ll be sending from the crowd up to the stage at Roxbury. Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see ‘em, yes, it sure will be a long hard climb.
I’ll probably be dropping by here about once a month or so, just to let my people know I’m still ridin’ that train, high on cocaine. Then, come September, when that last good morning sunrise will be the brightest I’ve ever seen, on my hands and knees I will roll, roll, roll back to Missoula.
So, if you please, don’t back up the track—this train’s got to run today. Next time you see me things won’t be the same. And if it hurts you my darling, you only got yourself to blame.
Now git!
Stumble It!
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Comments
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Farm out....
http://ratdog.org/2009-08-26
Or somebody out there download the man some low-gen high quality audience and soundboards and gift them to him at 30 cents a piece. I would but I still operate primarily by cassette format in personal preference and have no high speed so some body else could and should do it much easier and faster.
Great start though -your getting there. Just watch out for those Kind Vegan Earth Muffin Burrito Biddies with bodies and Teva tans to match-their not all as "kind" as they might seem to be. You could wake up with both a kidney and your best bong hoisted from you in the middle of one of those nights where everything just seems a lot brighter and blissful than usual after tucking that tiny little square of paper under your tongue. Happy Trails!
of fan base
envy to me.
The union club
who could ask
for more than that?
Thank you for the memories you never had.
Careful eating or drinking anything that someone offers you, though....
The Dead have studio albums?
what gives...?
So be gone, oh wizard of words, go on your quest. After all, How can we miss you if you won't go away?
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