Sweet Harmony

10/19/72 at the Southern stronghold, Hofheinz Pavillion in Houston. There are German families with deep roots all over Texas because the 19th century was just an absolute mess and everybody was fleeing from everyone, and if you’ve ever been to Texas, it is a place to flee to.

Speaking of the Southern strategy, go check out Mrs. Donna Jean singing a beautiful duet with Garcia on the old Dolly Parton/Porter Waggoner tune Tomorrow is Forever, a rarity that only appeared this many times. Wow! Just that many? Yup.

But the original is a bit better.

Plan? Tangent.

A piece of wisdom for our younger (or older) readers: if you find yourself in a screaming argument with another person at three in the morning, you must dissociate from that person immediately.

“But she was looking at some–”

No. There is no reason for an argument, especially a screaming one, at three in the morning. Ever. Were a wolf to get in the house and attempt to make off with the baby, there would be screaming, yes, but it wouldn’t be an argument, would it? I would think you and your spouse would be united in purpose at that moment. Nor is a swift elbow to the kidneys, accompanied by a muttered, “Shut up, you oaf,” an argument. It is a feature of sharing a bed with another human.

Awkward

In Bobby’s defense, he has for years been warning others that stealing women from their men is not just a pursuit to while away the long hours, but his vocation and livelihood. Bobby doesn’t want to steal all these women, but it’s his job, man, and in this economy, a man’s gotta put bacon on the table.

Hell Brent For Leather

Douglas Adams had his Infinite Improbability Drive, but he didn’t go far enough: I introduce the Infinite Infinity Drive.

Assume infinity.

Assume the multiverse.

Therefore, if where you are is not where you want to be, then in one of the infinite universes where you are is where it is at. One can figure which is which by building a computer large enough to calculate infinity. Since such a computer would necessarily have to be larger than infinity, it might seem impossible, until one remembers that infinity must by definition contain, say, infinity+24.

It’s bigger on the inside.

You are teetering on the brink, my friend. 

9/5/79 at MSG (Do I favor East Coast show over West Coast? Am I a Coastist? Do I believe that the West Coast is fine and all, just as long as it stays over there? Yeah. Sue me.)

I am hissing at you. Hissing. Hssss.

It is, obviously, a Brent. Much like strangers at airport bars, I’ve always had an iffy relationship with Brent, but I’m going to give him a concentrated listening, at least until I can staunch this bleeding head wound. I woke up to vomit last night, like you do, and I THWACKED my head into the samurai swords I keep loose in the bathroom, the one room you’re almost guaranteed to roam around in like a piano tuner nightly. (I’m sure blind people must have gone to Dead shows, but did they bring the dog in with them? It seems mean to the dog, what with the dog-hearing and a Dead show had to be, like, the most INTERESTING SMELLING PLACE IN THE WORLD to a dog, but a guide dog has to be like those guards outside Buckingham Palace.)

(BUT, if you were blind, would you ever go to a concert or put on headphones without your dog, or the biggest, strongest, most loyal buddy in the world with you? Like, your brother just happens to be The Big Show. And I’d rather have the dog: some drunk asshole will have a go at The Big Show just because, but nobody messes with dogs. Music would cut off all your connection to the outside world; you wouldn’t be able to hear anyone sneaking up on you and people sneak up on blind people all the time)

My equivocation towards Brent lies with his playing and his voice. His playing is tremendous: he fit in with the band instantly and added new layers with his adroit B3. His playing stepped up everyone’s game and though his Rhodes could sound tinkly, it was still a welcome relief from the constant piano block-chords of the later Keith years.

I just never warmed to Brent’s voice. It always sounded like a hack comic doing a Michael McDonald impression. I’m sure there are those of you who disagree. I am sorry for your wrongness.