by Dean Budnick
(I’m taking an adult ed class. Did you realize that the families on both Full House and ALF are named Tanner? I think it may be more than just a coincidence. There’s something a little unnerving about it all.)
(Yeah it’s like the Lincoln and Kennedy assassinations.)
(Do tell.)
(They were both replaced by their Vice Presidents, who were Southerners named Johnson, born 100 years apart. Lincoln was shot in Ford’s Theatre, while Kennedy was shot in a Lincoln, which was made by Ford. John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald both have fifteen letters in their name. Booth committed his crime in a theater and was caught in a warehouse, while Oswald committed his crime in a warehouse and was caught in a theater. Kennedy’s secretary was named Lincoln, Lincoln’s secretary was named Kennedy…)
(I’ve heard all that, I thought you had something more to contribute on the eerie similarities between Full House and ALF.)
(Which reminds me, you traded away my television, my personal TV set, so you could go home and watch TV?)
(When you put it that way it does sound ironic.)
(It sounds moronic.)
(Well at least I have the good sense to know that Lincoln did not have a secretary named Kennedy, that’s an urban myth. Next thing you’re going to say is that three weeks before Lincoln was assassinated, he was in Monroe, Maryland and that three weeks before Kennedy was assassinated he was in Marilyn Monroe. Which I find distasteful, by the way.)
(Well I find it distasteful the way you trade away someone else’s television so you can slack off on your job. And that you make imbecilic allegations regarding the Tanner families.)
(I haven’t even started there—)
(You know the two of you remind me of Ernie and Bert.)
(Roberts, that’s insulting.)
(What’s your problem, Joey?)
(What’s my problem? There’s something wrong with the two of them. They’re grown men, well two grown puppets, who still don’t have the alphabet down and haven’t quite mastered counting past ten.)
(That’s not what I had in mind and it’s not their worst problem.)
(Which is?)
(They seem to have a special manly attraction to each other.)
(You think they’re lovers? No, they’re committed bachelors.)
(They share a bed. Ernie?)
(Joey’s right. They do not share a bed.)
(That’s not their problem. That’s not even a problem, don’t be insulting. Their problem is that I have long suspected they are the product of some weird puppet inbreeding).
(They’re inbred? The brothers are inbred?)
(Not so loud.)
(Ernie and Bert are inbred? You think the brothers are inbred?)
(Now I’m taking Roberts’ side. You think the brothers are inbred? You’re sick.)
“I wuuuht my moooommeeeee.”
(Well played, Charlie Brown.)
(I think you mean Schroeder.)
(I think he means Lucy. She’s the one who holds the ball when Charlie Brown tries to kick it and he end up falling on his…on his tushie, right Stella? His name’s Charlie Brown?)
“Who?”
(We have to find this mother.)
BAGEL BOB
(We’ve got your bobbleheads! Bob Weir! Bob Dylan! Bob Marley! Bob Denver! Step on up, we’ve got all your Bob needs!)
“All Bob’s Bob needs! Bob Denver! Bob loves Bob Denver… Maynard G. Krebs, where is Maynard G. Krebs? Excuse me, Bob, but where is Maynard G. Krebs?”
(What are you talking about, honey?)
“Where is Maynard G. Krebs?”
(I don’t think I know him. Is he vending out here in Shakedown? There are three or four entire rows of people with tables, so I’d look up and down and then over that way on either side. I’m sorry, I can’t help, we’re just getting set up for the post-show. If he’s by himself and has a cooler or something maybe he’s over that way, closer to the arena. They’re gonna be done soon, so people are starting to stake out their turf.)
“No. Maynard G. Krebs.”
(Who?)
“First base. Where is Maynard G. Krebs?”
(I’m sorry but I don’t know where your friend is. I need to get back to work. We’ve got your bobbleheads! Bob Weir! Bob Dylan! Bob Marley! Bob Denver! )
“Yes, Maynard G. Krebs!”
(I’m sorry, I don’t know…)
“Third base. Maynard G. Krebs aka Bob Denver!)
(Ohhh, you mean Gilligan! Hold on, I’m about to put them on the table. They’re custom. Gilligan’s holding a little bong made out of a coconut… Kind custom Bobbleheads, right here! Bob Denver, all bonged up! Perfect for your dorm room! We’ve got, trinkets, we’ve got knickknacks, we’ve got gewgaws and that’s not insensitive because my last name’s Goldberg, which is why we’ve got tchotchkes. Plus of course we’ve got your bagels! That’s right we’ve got it all right here at the original famous Bagel Bob’s!)
“What?”
(Second base. I’ll handle this custie, Sugaree.)
(Okay then, Gilligan fan, I leave you in the capable hands of Bagel Bob. I’d be happy to have you chat me up after we close. To a lot sister like me, you old-timers, you’re like sages. That means wise men.)
“No flies on your glossary.”
(Thanks, it’s the cream rinse.)
(Suge, can you shake it over there and get the Christmas lights out of the van, apparently some people are having trouble reading our banner and we want everyone to know that the ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S HAS WARM, TOASTED BAGELS, FOR WARM, TOASTED HEADS!)
“This is wrong.”
(That’s right the ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S! WARM, TOASTED BAGELS, FOR WARM, TOASTED HEADS!)
“Bobbleganger!”
(Come visit us at the ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S!)
“You are not the original Bagel Bob!”
(Are you sure, because I have a vinyl sign that says otherwise.)
“Bagel Bob is the original Bagel Bob.”
(Do you have a vinyl sign?)
“Do you have a vinyl heart? Bagel Bob is Bagel Bob. All other Bagel Bobs are redundant, superfluous, gratiutous.”
(There’s enough Bob to go around.)
“Bagel Bob says no.”
(Bagel Bob says yes. And Bagel Bob reminds everyone that THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY TO MAKE SURE THAT NO ONE STEALS YOUR BAGEL. PUT LOX ON IT! RIGHT HERE AT BABEL BOB’S.)
“Oy vey. Well now you’ve done it. This is a first for Bob…”
(Oh, and what’s that?)
“YELLOW JACKET! BOB NEEDS A YELLOW JACKET!”
ZEB
Whoaaahhh.
Kindness.
Crazy crazy kindness.
Out of nowhere.
It delicately floated down.
“China Doll.”
Jerry was making those harsh sawing noises and then he just stopped and let it drop, like a beautiful net on top of us.
Nothing kinder than a “China Doll” out of chaos space.
It’s dainty and delicate and sort of wistful, I think that’s the word.
And it’s not a net, it’s a lace doily. Homemade and beautiful and just barely touching our skin, just barely touching us.
ROBIN
“Oooooohhhhh.”
(Ahhhhhhhhhh…)
“Yeeeehhh”
(Yahhhhh…)
“So…”
(Beaaauuutiiiifullll…)
Deeeeeep breaattthhhh
“So…”
(Saadddd…)
Deeeeeep breaattthhhh
“So…”
(Sorry…)
“Sorrrrry?”
(Misssed you firstset?)
“Hugs?”
(HUGS!)
“Ahh
hhhhhh”
(Oooooohhhhh.)
“Yahhhhh…”
(Yeeeehhh…)
“So…”
“Happppyyyy”
“So…”
(Huggggyy.)
(So…oooooaaappppp… So…ooaapppp…SOOOAPPPPP!)
“Huh?”
(What?)
(SOAAAPPPPPP!)
(You girls could use some soap. We heady sisters have to stick together. Am I right ladies?)
“Ummmm…”
(Nooo?)
(And not just soap. Some shampoo will do you right too, you have all sorts of crap in those stringy locks, it looks like someone used your head as a mop near the hot dog stand over there.)
“Huhhhhh?”
(Nahhh, nahh, just playing… I’m on my own trip heady soul sisters…)
(Byyyyeeeeee!)
“Byyeeeeee…”
(Sheeee!)
“Shhhhh… Oooooohhhhh.”
(Ahhhhhhhhhh…)
“Yeeeehhh”
(Yahhhhh…)
RANDY
(Holy shit, there he is! There’s the tie-dyed prick who that attacked you. Go teach him a lesson)
“I don’t see him.”
(Right there! He’s ten feet away! He just walked around the corner to the next row of cars. Come on, let’s go! No one’s around, just pop him one clean!)
“Hold on, let me crack a beer. This jacket actually came in handy for once, deep pockets for bonus brews.”
(Crack his head first.)
“Too late, hang on…”
Ahhhhhhh
“Alright let me check him out first.”
(That’s the guy. HEY! He’s ignoring me. He’s ignoring us. HEY YOU! No respect, man. That’s the guy, that’s the one! He’s the one who fucked up your day. Just one swing to remind him who’s in charge here.”
Fuck.
(You let him get away once, don’t let him do it again. He got you fired. Hit him!)
FUCK.
(HEY! He’s still ignoring us, that asshole. He attacked you! You’ve got to let him know that there are repercussions! That asshole is just like all of these other Deadhead assholes out here! HIT HIM!)
FUUUUUCCKKKK.
(He’s the one who got you fired! He’s the reason Davis was looking for you and found out about the game! He’s the reason Mack thinks you knocked someone off the top of that fence! He’s the reason your car broke down! He’s the one who’s going to get you KICKED OFF THE TEAM! He’s the one who’s going after your girlfriend! He’s the one responsible for all the foul shit that’s landed on you ALL DAY! You better fucking HIT HIM! If you don’t HIT HIM I’m gonna HIT HIM! I’m gonna FUCKING HIT HIM! SO YOU BETTER FUCKING HIT HIM!)
ARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!
STEVEN
Uhhhm-here.
I-uuuhhhm here.
Toohere.
Toomuch.
Somany.
Solonely.
So—
“OOOOWWWwwwwwwwwwuhhhhhhhhh”
RANDY
(What the fuck, Randy? Why did you hit me?)
“Why the fuck did you hit him?”
(You weren’t going to do it and he deserved it.)
“YOU deserved it. You ratted me out. You were the one who knocked the guy off the top of that fence. That’s how you fucking knew about it and it sounds like you told Mack that I did it. You probably told Davis that I was back there playing the game that you set up. That’s the Serpico shit you were squawking about. You did it because you want me off the football team, so that you can start. There’s probably some bullshit play for my girlfriend in there as well. You must have done something to fuck up Rennick’s car too or you knew about it. My head’s a little fuzzy from the beer.”
(You’re crazy, man, you’re babbling. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go pick up our beer, put in it Robbins’ car and you can drive us home. Fuck this place.)
“What about that guy, you took him out. It looks like he hit his head on that car bumper on the way down.”
(Let me take a quick… No he’s fine. He’ll sleep it off. Plus, he’s the asshole who attacked you.)
“Is he? He’s lying face down, I can’t really tell.”
(Just leave him there. We shouldn’t turn him over and revive him. He’ll go apeshit or something. He’s out of his head on acid or angel dust or goofballs. He’s an animal.)
“Man are you sure? He doesn’t seem like much of an animal. Well okay, a smallish, youngish human animal…”
(No, no, let him sleep it off. After the lame-ass Grateful Dead finish their lame-ass concert people will come out to this edge of the lot and they can deal with him.)
“I don’t like the way his neck looks.”
(Of course not, you shouldn’t. His neck looks like someone popped him good which is what happened here. Someone popped him good. But he’ll be fine other than a raging headache, which he deserves, considering all he did to you. Whatever happened here, retaliation was a reasonable response. Let’s just leave him behind and put this whole nasty day behind us.)
ZEB
Watchtower!
Double Dylan night!
Go to it, Bobby!
(I’m telling you, you should play Dead, think about it…)
“What’s that?”
(It’s the perfect vending opportunity. Baseball and the Grateful Dead. Like I said, I’m full of ideas. You’re clearly a baseball fan.)
“Not—”
(When you mentioned Pete Rose earlier that got me thinking. I have a killer idea and it’s all yours. Grateful Reds caps. You put a Stealie on top of the Cincinnati Reds logo. Do you know that logo? It’s a guy with a baseball for a head in a Cincinnati Reds uniform. What surrealist genius came up with that? He’s the one who should be decorating my mail order envelopes. So then you replace the baseball head with a Stealie and change the C on the shirt to a G. Cool beans, no? What do you say? )
“That is a good idea.”
(Surprised you again, didn’t I? Well you know what they say about me—I’m substance masquerading as style. I’d say the same about the Grateful Dead. Although I’ve been saying that less frequently as late, the more they play ‘Watchtower.’ I’m getting a little tired of it.)
“Wait and see bro, wait and see.”
(I am waiting and seeing. I’m waiting for a ‘Lost Sailor’ because I’ve seen too many ‘Watchtowers.’)
“Double the Dylan tonight…”
(I appreciate The Bard as much as the next guy—if the next guy knows his shit as much as I do—but I still wouldn’t mind something else.)
“It’s the Grateful Dead, you get what you get.”
(Depending on where and when you get it. ’87 was a big year for ‘Watchtowers.’ But ’85, now that really was the year of the crazy lists: ‘Day Tripper,’ ‘Walking the Dog,’ ‘Big Boy Pete.’ Richmond, November 1, 1985 had a killer ‘Sailor’ into ‘Drums’ and ‘Space’ and then on into ‘Saint.’ ‘Comes a Time’ before ‘Sailor’ too. I don’t think really I appreciated it. I mean I did and I didn’t. Some nights the band didn’t quite connect but I’ll admit it I have soft spot for ’85.”
“Right on. I have a soft spot for ‘Watchtower’…”
(I got you. I can pick up these subtle clues. I’ll leave you to your ‘Watchtower.’)
“Right on.”
(I’ve enjoyed my fair share of ‘Watchtowers’ in my time…)
“Right on.”
(Come to think of it, the Landover one from earlier in the tour, sounds great blasting out of the DAT player I have I my office…)
TAPER TED
There must be some way out of here…but if there is, I can’t figure it out.
What am I going to do about this Whole Earth Access tree?
It’s the Kobayashi Maru but unlike Kirk, I can’t game the system…
I wish Rez hadn’t lit out for the luxury box during the “China Doll.” I should have said something to her before she left.
Blackmail. Blankmail. How could one of us, a taper no less, attempt this. It’s extortion…a takedown, a shakedown and not the right kind of “Shakedown.”
It’s a Hobson’s Choice…
Sophie’s Choice…
Bear’s Choice.
Okay, maybe I’ve been swirling in the secondhand smoke a bit too long.
But whatever it is, it is the very definition of unkind.
While I do think that charges of taper elitism can be well-founded, no one ever sees it from our side. People just want the tapes when they want them. They should invest the time and the money if they care so much.
If I let Chuck go wide on the boards, people will overreact and the tapes will disappear down the rabbit hole again. People will rage about it for months—they’ll call it the Betty Battles or the Cream Puff War or something clever that eludes me right now.
I’d feel better about the whole thing if Chuck presented himself as some sort of freedom fighter or social activist trying to liberate the boards on behalf of the people rather than just a selfish Deadhead.
Maybe I should just take a stand, call his bluff.
The hour is getting late.
STELLA BLUE
(There she is! STELLA!)
“Mommeeeee!”
(Oh, Stella, Stella, Stella. Stell Belle. My little Stella baby.)
“I’m not—”
(Oh, I know you’re not, honey, Mommy’s just so glad to see you. What happened to you?)
(I don’t know, Mommy. I went to the bathroom and then you were gone.)
(Excuse me, ma’am, you let her go to the bathroom by herself?)
(I certainly did not.)
(Then how did she get away?)
(She’s not an animal, it’s not like she escaped. I just saw an old friend of mine, went to hug her and then somehow she disappeared.)
(Was there a magician involved?)
(Why would there be a musician involved? Are you trying to blame the Grateful Dead for this?)