Might As Well

by Dean Budnick

  “Not a source of pride.”

  (I’m with you there. So my guy, Picasso Moon, he does it for me and a few friends. He uses different styles for each of us. He lives in NYC, which is where I work, so he delivers the West Coast envelopes to my office, my secretary packages them up and sends them to my friends in Santa Barbara and Palo Alto. They have to buy their own money orders and send them from their local post offices so it doesn’t look suspicious but it’s a sweet deal for everyone. Those people in the Grateful Dead Ticket Office appreciate eye candy as much as the rest of us. Have you ever seen the photo of Steve Marcus and their envelope wall? One of mine’s up there. I made the Hall of Fame.)

  “You’re a regular Pete Rose.”

  (Although Pete’s not actually in the Hall. They won’t let him in there because he didn’t play by the rules.)

  STELLA BLUE

  “Mommy?”

  “Mommy?”

  “Mommmmmeee? Mommmeeeee! Mommmeeeeee!”

  “Mommmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  BAGEL BOB

  (Come on in!)

  “Good evening, Morning Gloria.”

  (I had forgotten you call me that. So Bob, are you going to join us?)

  “In what endeavor?”

  (No one’s told you about our book mobile? Speaking of which Mikey, it’s time for some mobilization.)

  “Ah, some book mobilization. No, Bob is aware of this projected encounter with the jackets in yellow.”

  (I prefer to call them the yellow in jackets. So are you two coming?)

  “Not Bob.”

  (Unless I beat you in chess.)

  “It appears that we will not have time to complete our match before yours begins.”

  (Well, I—come in!)

  (Hey now, Gloria, Mike, Bob. What’s shaking?)

  “Earlier this van. At present my viscera.”

  (It turns out, Ryder, that Bob doesn’t approve of the book thing.)

  (Why not? I mean we have to do something. The security is merciless here. Someone has to stand up to them.)

  “Stand proud in front of them perhaps but not step on their toes for the sake of doing such.”

  (You don’t understand, we’re not doing that. Passive resistance, that’s what it’s about. Maybe you don’t understand the whole plan. Now the sign out front says something like no possession of alcohol, no possession of drugs, no camping or vending and get this—)

  (No solicitation or distribution of literature.)

  (Right, so we’re going to gather at the side of the arena and have a big ol’ swap meet. We’ve all brought our favorite books and we’re going to go out there and distribute some literature.)

  (And I might solicit some as well.)

  (Right on, Mike!)

  “And what result will this yield?”

  (We’re challenging the absurdity of the laws here and the brutality of those who enforce them.)

  (Come on, Bob, admit it, you’d like to see their faces when I hand out my dog-eared Fitzgerald novels and try to solicit some of Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha Tales.)

  “The nature of such an exchange appeals to Bob. As does its very pronunciation.”

  (Aha!)

  “But the motivation behind it saddens him. And the results of this seem destined to sadden many.”

  (As many are saddened when these guys—and let me remind you, guys is all they are—)

  “You would seem to be correct in that assessment, Morning Gloria.”

  (As many are saddened when these guys violate our civil rights by confiscating or even touching our personal private property. I saw one yellow jacket notice a tie clasp hanging down from someone’s rear view mirror—)

  “By tie clasp do you refer to an implement with which to sustain the burnt embers of a marijuana cigarette?”

  (Well there no need to get all judgy about it. Sure, I suppose someone might call it a roach clip but there’s no need to classify things. You don’t need to make that jump and neither do the yellow jackets, which is why they had no right to search that woman’s car.)

  “Constitutional protections are not extended to those on private property.”

  (Maybe so. Maybe not.)

  “No maybe. Not.”

  (But even that’s not relevant. This is something we have to do. We have to band together to show strength and unity. And our strength in unity. Otherwise our scene will collapse. We have to take our stand and resist what we feel to be unfair infringements. And if you don’t agree Bob, then don’t join us but it’s time to go.)

  (I’m with you, G, I just came in here to get these guys.)

  (Bob?)

  (Bob?)

  (Bob?)

  “Bob?”

  (BOB!)

  “Oh, sorry. Bob thought that perhaps this was some sort of bonding ritual. The repetition of monosyllabic palindromes.”

  (Come on, Bob, what do you say, we can’t finish our game, so our bet is moot. But we’d like you to be there. Even if you don’t participate. Admit that you’ll find it interesting.)

  “Bob does not disagree. But this in and of itself does not ensure Bob’s presence.”

  (Aha!)

  “Back to the monosyllabic palindromes.”

  (Robert!)

  “Bob can envision how the presence of observers such as himself might lend an air of civility to the proceedings, which could redound to the benefit of all.”

  (Or at the very least contribute some sublime weirdness.)

  “Bob is happy either way.”

  TAPER TED

  “So how’d it go, Mitch?”

  (It turns out running analog is not quite as charming as I remember it. I was firing on fumes by the time we got to ‘Tennessee Jed.’ The tape almost made it to the end for a full-on stop and signal loss, which would have made the kid cry. Thankfully the cavalry arrived, via your lovely wife, so I can listen to that major ‘Let It Grow’ on my drive home. She also handed me a Maxell XLII-S 100, so I should be covered for the second set.)

  “What did she give you?”

  (Nothing much. Your beloved Augusta October 12, 1984 second set master.)

  “Ehh, that’s it?”

  (She gave me your dupe of the first set, second night Landover that I guess you spun down from DAT for the car ride.)

  “It was solid but certainly retread material especially as a dupe. Hey, Reggie, did you hear about Mitch’s little choose your own adventure?”

  (I had my eyeballs on the action. It was quite a spectacle.)

  “If you wish to cut the patcher’s signal while you insert a new tape during the ‘Ten Jed’ turn to page twenty. If you prefer to keep your own borrowed deck on pause so that your young friend continues to receive a signal until the end of the song, turn to page thirty-three. ”

  (It really wasn’t much of a choice. What good would it have done me to drop the tape in there and cut the kid’s signal? My tape already was shot, no need to be mean spirited about the whole thing. As they say, nothing left to do but smile smile smile.)

  (Hey, Teddy, who were those kids I just saw you with?)

  “Teen tour.”

  (How’d it go?)

  “About as well as you’d expect, only worse.”

  (Kids today, they have no love for the Schoeps.)

  (So who were they?)

  “One of them is the daughter of someone at the Manhattan branch of Rez’s law firm.”

  (Which of them was the daughter?)

  “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.”

  (So why the pow-wow? The set’s going to start soon.)

  “I’m in a quandary. Consider this to be something of an ethics colloquium.”

  (Is it about people tossing padded envelopes at you again? That’s why you need to seek out a spot in the middle o
f the section. No matter what your assigned seat, you always set up too close to the end of the row. That way anyone can hand you blanks and postage. Your other problem is you make eye contact. NEVER make eye contact, that draws the beasties right in.)

  “I’m near-sighted, what can I tell you? I don’t always wear my glasses, so I stare and squint because I’m trying to recognize the faces of the people I actually know. Plus, I like the clear ingress and egress on the edge of the row. Most importantly, my recordings always sound fine from there.”

  (Which results in the problem where you’re too close to the aisle so that anyone can thrust one of those mailers in your face. It’s so passive aggressive, they stand there with their doe eyes, trying to connect so they can hand you a self-addressed stamped envelope. You know how that goes too, a pair of cassettes and they’ve already poached the Max Points, they don’t even leave those for you.”

  (Is that passive aggressive or aggressive aggressive?)

  “I’ve sought out Rez’s counsel on this general topic after too many folks just started dropping them at my feet. Now I apply the process server’s protocol. Unless I accept the envelope in my hand, I’m in the clear and I can abandon it free of dubbing responsibility.”

  (So you want to hear our opinions on this? It sounds like you’ve already got a tactical plan in place.)

  “No, that’s not quite it although you’re not far off. Let me phrase it this way, what do you think would happen if people became aware of the Whole Earth?”

  (Are you saying what I think you’re saying?)

  (What do you mean by people?)

  (Hypothetically? Everyone on rec.music.gdead.)

  (I think the Whole Earth would self-destruct. Okay, not the Whole Earth, just a special sapling that hasn’t taken sufficient root quite yet.)

  (I just received an update on that. I’m told that it should flower about two weeks after tour.)

  “And are we committed to keeping all the fruit to ourselves?”

  (That was our pledge.)

  “What if we share a bite?”

  (You’re really one for extending the metaphor, aren’t you?)

  (Ted, are you familiar with the Hippocratic oath?)

  “That’s my brother.”

  (Attorney-client privilege?)

  “That’s my wife. I’m a librarian. Plus I’m not sure how either applies.”

  (What does apply is that you made a promise. If you can’t honor it then I think you need to recuse yourself.)

  (That may be more Rez’s language than yours.)

  (Or find someone else to reap your harvest, which may I remind you, starts off with six nights from the Capitol Theatre in February of 1971.)

  (Whoa, Candace and Healy are up there, band is soon to follow.)

  “Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one.”

  (You’re going full Wrath of Khan on us?)

  “It’s all I got.”

  (Let’s hope not.)

  STEVEN

  (Are you okay? It looks like you’re shivering.)

  “Yeah, it’s like I can feel cold water rushing down my spine. Hey, Nate, I had this baja hoodie thing in the car. Do you remember if I took it with me?”

  (No idea. I don’t see it under you seat, though.)

  “Never mind. I’ll be fine once they come back out and the limbs start rotating. Shannon looks like she’s coming around, no?”

  (Don’t wig out, she had some help.)

  “Why would I wig?”

  (Hey, Saint Steven, could you move over one? I need to slide in there.)

  Burns?

  “You know it’s spelled differently.”

  (I can’t summon the energy to care.)

  (Be nice!)

  (Sorry, Shan.)

  (Take a chill pill, Alex, that’s his thing. He makes sure that letters are in their proper order. He’s a total moto.)

  Thanks?

  (That’s why we like him. But, Steven, can you do me a favor and let Alex in here. He’s kind of helping me out. I had an epiphany in the woman’s room. An epiphany. See, Steven, now there’s a word for you!)

  “He was in the woman’s room?”

  (No, we had one of those encounters in the hallway…You know…serendipity, that’s it! Serendipity. How’s that one? Doing you proud, no?)

  No.

  “Absolutely, Shannon.”

  There go the lights.

  Deep breath. Deep breath.

  (Alright, Stevie, second set! Now we’re in for it!)

  (The training wheels are coming off, big boy!)

  Wheels? Wheels? Ahh, that reminds me…

  “Hey, Nate, I saw Casey Jones out there in the hallway.”

  (The Casey Jones? Willington folk hero Casey Jones?)

  “One and the same. He…he said something about a shrine. It was really confusing. He seemed to think I’d understand. Do you know what he meant?”

  (Ummm. Hey, Jason, Stevie saw Casey Jones.)

  (He’s hallucinating, already? The music hasn’t started yet.)

  (No, Casey Jones from Willington. The one who practically did his whole gap year on tour.)

  (That guy’s the Headiest.)

  (Yeah well Steven saw him out there and Casey asked him about the shrine.)

  (We are not authorized to talk about that.)

  (Sorry, Stevie.)

  “What?”

  What?

  (Hey! Hey! Saint Steven, a quick heads up from Head to Head.)

  “Yeah, Burns?”

  (That kabob thing, I gave you outside. What’d you do with it?)

  “I ate it.”

  (Shit, man, sorry about that. It might not have been the wisest move. I think there was something foul in there. I spent half of the first set in the bathroom. I was puking like a banshee.)

  STELLA BLUE

  “Mommeeeee! Mommeeeee! MOMMMMEEEEEE!”

  Everybody’s running and running and running.

  Where’s Mommy? Where’s my mommmeee?

  Is she in there? It’s dark. It’s dark in there and people are running.

  “I want my mommeeeee! I want my-muh-muh-mwuh-mwah-wahhhhhh…”

  RANDY

  (Ellis, what are doing? I thought I fired you.)

  “You did.”

  (But then Davis rolled in and told me that he fired you.)

  “He did.”

  (Well your day isn’t going to get much better because I just called your coach and he wants to see you bright and early in his office tomorrow morning.)

  “I can’t, I have class.”

  (Class on a Saturday?)

  “I have to play a board game.”

  (What the hell kind of school is that? And what you need to do is stop playing games. I heard you’re corrupting my men with some form of gambling behind the dumpsters.)

  “That’s not true.”

  (And what’s that all over your jacket)

  “Barbecue sauce?”

  (Let’s hope it is. GET OUT OF HERE! I don’t want to see you on these premises ever again. EVER! You are officially banned. You are a man without a country. And give my regards to your football coach. Or maybe I should say, give my regards to your former football coach.)

  FUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKK!!

  ZEB

  (You’re not tripping or anything, are you?)

  “Nope.”

  (I’m not a narc, it just helps to know if I’m having a conversation with you and all you’re doing is watching my hands make trails.)

  “Uh-huh.”

  (Cause if you were I’d make my hands do some really cool things. Nah, just kidding. No, yeah. Me neither. Of course tomorrow is another day. But there’s always that problem when you trip, that problem of judgment. You lose
objectivity. You can’t always tell how the band’s really playing. Like whenever one of my friends calls me after a show and tells me that the best part was ‘Drums’ and ‘Space,’ then I’m a little suspicious.)

  “Right.”

  (Or ‘Throwing Stones.’ If someone calls me at 3:30 in the morning after a West Coast show and says ‘Craig, man, you missed it, they just did the hottest “Throwing” ever,’ then right away I know where his head’s at.)

  “Uh-huh.”

  (Or I’ll make some other kind of mistake. After one of the Garden shows last year I walked out knowing that I wanted something, I had some basic urge that needed to be satisfied. So I bought a veggie burrito. And I’m walking up 34th St. about to take a bite of the burrito when it occurs to me, ‘I’m not hungry at all, I’m thirsty.’)

  “An honest mistake, brother.”

  (But hey, I’m not knocking the kind veggie in general. There’s been more than one night after seeing the Dead when I’ve been back at my place or a hotel room somewhere and said ‘The highlight of the evening was definitely was the kind veggie after the show.’)

  “Must have been some kind veggie, brother.”

  (Not that I’m knocking vendors or vending or anything. The ones I sometimes want to knock are the tapers. In general they’re pretty cool and I respect what they do. Some of my best friends are tapers, as they say. But just once I’d like to mail order for a taper ticket and then come to the show with a beat up old cassette recorder that has a cheap built-in mic. Then in front of all the other tapers I’d open up a pack of C-120s, you know in the three packs you can buy at the grocery store. I’d stand there like an idiot with a bullshit tape recorder that can’t record jack shit, turn to the guy closest to me while he’s setting up his deck and ask him for spare D batteries. The guy would freak. They all would freak. Friends of theirs probably would have been shut out of the taper section and they’d look at me, like, ‘Now there’s an asshole.’ You dig?)

  “I dig.”

  (Ohh, we’re getting close now. Candace Brightman just stepped forward. Can you see her over there? Do you know who I’m talking about? Down there in the middle.)