Monday, November 7, 2011

Long Strange Trip It's Been...

I wrote this shortly after Jerry Garcia’s passing…It will be in a book I am editing right now along with some of my other absurdist pieces.


Displaced deadheads convene in parking lot to discuss future. Bewildered and lost, deadheads gathered in the parking lot of a blue’s traveler concert to discuss their future in the post Grateful Dead world left by passing of Jerry Garcia. “I don’t know. Blues Travelers okay, but I don’t feel it is filling the void.” Said one scruffy deadhead. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Something is missing.” Said another tie-died plaid young girl with dirty baggy jeans.

“What can we do about it?” Said another young man who didn’t look like he bathed in quite some time.

Listen up fellow deadheads, I have sad news... Jerry Garcia passed away this morning... The good news is the cops said we can

have another day to mourn... So... Let's pool our hallucinogens and organic juice and make a Funeral punch...

“Blues Traveler is our best bet… Metallica is too heavy… The American presidents are too one dimensional… Green day is still a possibility.”

“Well, we know we don’t want to get jobs…”

They all agreed on that.

“That’s our goal.” Someone else said.

“Yes, we have to keep our focus. It’s not who we follow it’s that we maintain a symbiotic relationship living off the body of a host such as blues traveler.”

Dudes dudes, I have a tambourine, we can start our own band...
We can call ourselves The Neon Clowns!

“It’s not fair.”

“Well, Bob Weir and the guys are going to be traveling again.”

“And we’ll need to make plans for the switch. We have a lot to consider. Who’s vans are running… Who’s got to be bailed out of jail… “

“Some of us want to stay with Blues Traveler.”

“We must stay together. Division will be our downfall. People won’t take us seriously if our numbers drop.”

I knew we shouldn't have dropped acid before the hike... we've walked 30 miles and I'm beginning to think we are still in my bedroom... 

“We need to unionize.” Someone yelled from the crowd.

There was a deafening silence all except someone coughing out a bong hit.

“Anybody know any teamsters?” Another long-haired tie-died plaid straggly young man inquired.

“My uncle Tony is a teamster.” Another scraggly dirty young man answered.

“You think they’ll show us how?”

“No.” Screamed out a 13-year-old granola-eating girl who could have passed for 14. “We must never unionize… If we unionize we’ll have to eat doughnuts like 4 times a day like clock work.”

“Like on a schedule?” The doughnut part concerned most of the granola eaters but the schedule thing was really scary.

“The only schedule we have is the concert schedule, other than that, all time is our own…”

                          Come on kids, get in the van... 
We're almost out of gas!!!!

“Then its decided.”

“What’s decided?”

“We don’t change a thing.”

“But is it Blues Traveler or Bob Weir?”

“Bob Weir.”

“Blues Traveler.”

I would like to dedicate this next number to all the displaced deadheads, left in a sudden sad, pathetic quandary by the passing of our good friend Jerry Garcia... We want you to know that those with money can follow us but the rest of you broke ass stinky mooching fly magnets will need to find some other host to sink your parasitical blood sucking tentacles in... The next song is called Share the love... 1...2...3...

Dudes, me and my dog just need a place to crash for one night 
maybe a month...

“We vote.”

“Voting! Unions! What’s happened to us! I have a good mind to go home and live in mom and dad’s basement.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“Me too!”

“Yeah, me too!”

“Maybe Jimmy Carter can help us.” Another scraggly dirty long-haired tie-died plaid young woman offered.

“Jimmy Carter! His wife Hillary is a fascist.”

“Let’s just get high and forget about it,” someone suggested.

“I second the motion,” someone else said.

“Who’s got rolling papers?” Another tie-died plaid scraggly long-haired young man said.

And with that, they post-poned the meeting for a date sometime in the future.

Truckin' got my chips cashed the doodah man... FUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHCCCCCCKKKKKKK
That was one hellllllllllllofahhhh Concertttttt!!!!! 
Don't take the brown microdot the man says...I says...Give it here....dude....
I'm not driving....hahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaahhhhaaahhhha 

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