Might As Well

by Dean Budnick

  (No, not a musician, a magician.)

  (Does that seem more plausible to you?)

  (You’re the one who started talking about mysterious disappearances. It’s my job to ask.)

  (Is it, though?)

  (And are you married, Mrs., uh Miss—)

  (Miss no I am not. How is that relevant?)

  (And where exactly do you live?)

  (Look, this is my daughter. We need to get going—)

  (I’m afraid we have some more questions for you first. Do you think that this is an appropriate place to bring your daughter?)

  (No, I do not. In the future I’ll keep her away from arena security.)

  (Come on, now that’s unnecessary.)

  (But it’s necessary to start blaming magicians or musicians for all this? You lost me back there. Look, this is my daughter. We have to go.)

  (I just want an answer to my question. Do you think this is a proper place for her?)

  (Yes I do.)

  (With all the drugs? And the crazies? Do you realize how many people we’ve seen today who are totally zonked out crazy on drugs?)

  (And how many have you seen who aren’t?)

  (I don’t think—)

  (Apparently Stella’s Aunt Jerry told her not to trust security.)

  “Aunt Jenneeeee!”

  (What are you smiling about? I don’t think that’s funny.)

  (No, you’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, we need to go.)

  (And she doesn’t know about Sesame Street. You don’t let her watch Sesame Street? That’s unhealthy.)

  (I don’t have a television set.)

  (Well, that’s no excuse.)

  (And why is it unhealthy? Do you think she’s missing out on good role models and that sort of crap?)

  “Mommeeeee!”

  (Sorry, Stell. Well tell me this, how many of those puppets are female?)

  (What’s that?)

  (How many of those puppets are little girls? You know, Ernie, Bert, the Cookie Monster, Count Chocula…)

  (Count Chocula is a breakfast cereal.)

  (I believe the Count’s proper name is Count Von Count.)

  (Well done.)

  (College Trivial Pursuit club. Traveling team, five years running.)

  (Five?)

  (I’m better with the trivia than the pursuits.)

  (The problem with those puppets is that the only one of them who’s a female is Miss Piggy. And that’s why I don’t let my daughter watch TV. We’re leaving. I appreciate your taking care of her but it’s time for us to go. Again, thank you.)

  “Bye-bye.”

  (Goodbye, Stella, it was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again at the Ice Capades or the Circus. Ma’am, please think twice before taking her to another Grateful Dead concert.)

  (And let her watch Sesame Street! Charlie Brown cartoons, too! Lucy is a doctor! Say, Ern, did you know that Oscar The Grouch was originally orange?)

  ROBIN

  Ooooooohhh thhhhhheeeee DeeeewwwWWW

  Ooooohhhhhhhh

  Thhhheeeeeee Deeeewwwwwwww

  Ooooooooooh

  Muh-muh-morrrrneeeeeeng Deeeewwwwww

  Muhhhhr-neeeeeeeeeeg

  Deeewwwwwww

  Deeeeeewwwww Noooootttttt?

  Deeeeeeeewwwwww

  BAGEL BOB

  “YELLOW JACKET! BOB REQUIRES YELLOW JACKET SATIFACTION!”

  (That sounds a tad obscene, no? And is it really necessary?)

  “YELLOW JACKET! BAGEL BOB REQUESTS YELLOW JACKET ASSISTANCE!”

  (What do you think, they’re like genies? That you can just call out for them and—)

  “There!”

  (Well your summoning powers are a bit off, Bob, IF THAT EVEN IS YOUR NAME, because those two are skulking off in the distance.)

  “And the yellow jackets had such good taste in books…”

  (GOOD TASTE? TASTES GOOD, THAT’S RIGHT, WE HAVE IT ALL, RIGHT HERE AT THE ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S: BOBBLEHEADS, BAUBLES AND IF YOU PUT US ON THE SPOT WE CAN EVEN FIND YOU A BOBBY PIN! OF COURSE WE’VE GOT YOUR BAGELS, TOO! TOASTED BAGELS FOR TOASTED HEADS! THAT’S RIGHT, THEY’RE MADE WITH WHOLE GRAINS. AND IF YOU REALLY WANNA FLY, THEN HOW ABOUT A PLAIN BAGEL?)

  “You truly are the anti-Bob.”

  (OR FOR SMALLER APPETITIES, TRY OUR BAGEL BITES, OUR BOBBERS, ALL AT THE ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S!)

  “This isn’t a parallel universe, it’s a subordinate one.”

  (I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you sages but I have a question. Bob?)

  “Yes?”

  (Yes?)

  (Where do these lights go?)

  (Just place them around the sign, so that anyone walking past can see us. The show’s ending soon and we need a healthy line of custies. Shake it, Sugaree… So what did you say your name was, again?)

  “Really?”

  (Come over here where we can talk.)

  “Is language proscribed near your coven?”

  (Just step over here. Not you sir, HEAD OVER THERE FOR THE ORIGINAL FAMOUS BAGEL BOB’S!)

  “Bob is wary…”

  (Just come over… Look, Bob this isn’t personal, it’s business. People have heard of Bagel Bob. I needed some help with name recognition. It’s a Dead eat Dead world out here in the lots.)

  “It’s highway Bobbery.”

  (Did you ever have Famous Ray’s Pizza? How about the Original Famous Ray’s Pizza? There are like fifteen variations on that name. The Real Original Famous Ray’s, the Original Real Famous Ray’s and on it goes. Which was the original? Even Ray doesn’t know and does it even matter? No one cares.)

  “Bob suspects that Ray might have a rooting interest.”

  (Which, Ray? I mean, maybe I am the real Bagel Bob.)

  “You are the surreal Bagel Bob. Although that may be a badge of honor you do not deserve.”

  (Listen, it’s all a front anyhow for my other enterprises. I’m a do-er. If you want tickets: real or counterfeit, I can get it done. If you want doses: real or paper, I can get it done. If you want to meet the band, backstage passes, I can get it done. If there’s something you need, something you want I can get it done.)

  “Bob wants his name back.”

  (The Doo Dah man. That’s what I should have called myself.)

  “Consider it done, Mr. Dah.”

  (I looked into that. It’s all a little loosey-goosey but R. Crumb has rights there. Those dudes with the big feet, they’re the Doo Dah Men. But again, you can’t trademark yourself. Or at least you can’t because I filed the paperwork a few weeks ago.)

  “M’lady spurned, the law, thy wrath is acrid.”

  (You really are one of a kind.)

  “Bob has his moments.”

  (Which is why there should be two of us. I can use you. Join the team. Be the face of this operation. One might say you already are.)

  “Bagel Bob would make that assertion.”

  (You can continue to do your thing and keep all your profits. I’ll even cut you in for a piece of the action from our little table. I just need your good will and your street cred. Oh, and the shirt off your back—I’d like you to wear one of the promotional T’s that I’m in the process of creating to help promote the business. You can’t lose. So why not be our front?”

  “Bagel Bob is affronted.”

  (I’m sorry to hear that, Bob. It’s the very best I can offer you. If you don’t find that acceptable then I suppose this is where we must part ways. Let the record show that I’ve made a good faith effort.)

  “Good faith?”

  (Well let’s just call it an effort.)

  “So be it. Bob’s energy wanes. In lieu of due process, Bob will let lot justice prevail.”

  (What did you say?)

  (When all legis
lation fails, Bob must turn to the commonest of laws: vendor vigilance… Hmmm, perhaps Bob’s story would make for a compelling television docudrama, after all.)

  (ARE YOU THREATENING ME?)

  “Brother Esau bears a curse.”

  (Seriously, are you threatening me?)

  “Bob is elevating you. Shadowboxing the apocalypse.”

  (I don’t like the sound of that.)

  “The Grateful Dead concur. They shelved it in eighty-seven.”

  (Reference eluded. Okay, come over here where we can really talk.)

  “Are adverbs not permitted here?”

  (Just come over here. I need absolute privacy.)

  “Such absolutism seems improbable amidst ten thousand automobiles.”

  (Jut follow me to the edge of the lot…please?)

  “Is the cone of silence going to drop?”

  (Come on, just a few yards ahead, I just need to make sure nobody’s eavesdropping… Okay… Listen, Bob, I’m sorry. I did everything you think I did and probably more.)

  “Bob did not devote much thought to the manner, although now he is ill at ease…”

  (I just never figured you’d be here. To be honest, I assumed you’d retired. I’ve bought a bagel or two from you a few years ago and I just expected that you’d moved on.)

  “Where to?”

  (Wherever else you go.)

  “There is nowhere else for Bob.”

  (But the Grateful Dead aren’t always touring.)

  “There are always songs to fill the air.”

  (Maybe for you because you’re living the dream. Not for me because I’m living in Connecticut. This is my weekend fun pass. My wife has no clue. I stole the toaster, fired up the Rambler that’s been sitting idle in my mother’s garage and here I am. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to come in cold and fight my way into the pecking order for a few shows? Do-er? I’m a do nothing. I’m going to take a bath this weekend. Metaphorically speaking.)

  “Literally as well, Bob advises.”

  (That I can promise you, with a few of these honeys I met at my local head shop but in order to pull that off, I need to make them believe I am so much more than I really am. Which is why I need to be Bagel Bob. You know originally, I was going to approach this differently, I saw it all as something of a retro, tribute thing. I was going to call it Na-Bob’s. I even created a Bagel Bob bobblehead. I can sell you a gross at cost, great marketing.)

  “Gross, indeed.”

  (Then I figured the better path was what if I became Bagel Bob myself. Not only would I have plausible deniability with the wife but I could also leverage all the goodwill you’ve developed over the years. The only problem was all the Bobbleheads I had created in your image. I tried to rebrand them as Bob Vila but so far, no takers.)

  “Perhaps Bob Ross?”

  (Good call, that! I know we’d get along, like smoked salmon and a schmear.)

  “There shalt be no false Bobs.”

  (You see, that’s my point, I don’t want to be false. Why don’t we start at the beginning?)

  “Bob is a fan of tautology.”

  (My name is Jack Novick. No, no, I want to be one hundred percent on the level. I go by Jack but my given name is John. There you go.)

  “Uncle John?”

  (What’s that?)

  “Catfish John?”

  (Oh, CRAP. That’s it. Uncle John is a little on the nose but Catfish John. That’s marketing. It’s got that Jerry Garcia association but you have to be a bit more in the know. I can do a little fish fry. Maybe go southern and theme it out that way. The margins are probably higher than with the whole rounded bread thing, which feels a bit dated, if you don’t mind my saying.)

  “Bagel Bob is proud to be on stale.”

  TAPER TED

  That one hit the spot.

  Monster “Dew.”

  And it was due as Tommy would say if he knew enough to say it. Of course if he knew that, he probably wouldn’t say it on principle.

  First time this tour. I was starting to think they were going to retire that sucker. Like the “St. Stephen” that Mitch may never hear again. Or the “Cosmic Charlie” that Rez would welcome. Or the “Golden Road” that I bet a lot of people here may not realize the band retired in 1967.

  This “Dew” was dynamic, with a proper build and powerful peak.

  That’s the way to go out in style! That’s also why you can’t just look at a setlist and count the number of songs, it’s all in the delivery. And on that one, Jerry was my delivery man for sure. When he fanned it at the end I felt like Homer Simpson when he sees a processed pork product, all week at the knees.

  Of course I’m going to be week at the knees after a month of dishes. Rez just dominated the setlist game. I had the “Watchtower” but not in the right spot. She had the “China Doll” and the “Dew.” Who wouldn’t want to see that post-“Drums?” Maybe tomorrow night she can predict “Stephen,” “The Eleven” and “Cream Puff War” while she’s at it. Apparently she has the power.

  Man, that was the way to end a set!

  After all that blankmail bullshit, it scratched my itch.

  The “Dew” flat out raged.

  Just when I was feeling outraged, the “Dew” out raged me.

  ZEB

  (The ‘Dew’ does not disappoint!)

  “It good to hear you say that.”

  (Well, maybe it on rare occasion, it doesn’t live up to its billing but this was not one of those nights.)

  “If you’re excited, I’m excited.”

  (Well you’re wise because given all of my experience, if I’m excited about something I’ve heard, then it was something worth being excited about. For the record, I wouldn’t describe myself as excited so much as content. Still, praise is praise.)

  “Hey, Craig, I’m gonna watch most of the encore from up there near the hallway so I can get back out to the lot and do my thing. But thank you for the ticket and the smoke and the convo.”

  (I hope to see you out there down the road. Quick game before you go?)

  “Well…”

  (Look over there. The fourteen-year-old-kid in the dye with his parents, are they older Heads reliving their youths with their youth? Are they people who saw the band a few times in the ’60s or early ’70s and thought it would be a hoot to check them out again? Or are they bored drones slumming from the suburbs with their neo-hippie kid? And if they have been to shows before, when was their first and how many have they seen?)

  “Ummm…”

  (Cogitate on that when the band comes back out and we can pick it up next time. I always enjoy spending time with the next generation of Heads, it leaves me optimistic for the future. I have to say, the music does too. This tour has been sponsored by ‘Let It Grow’ and ‘Terrapin’ and that’s a beautiful place to be.)

  “Right on!”

  (Here they come, you wanna guess?)

  “I don’t enjoy that game as much as you do. I prefer to keep my mind blank.”

  (Well you excel at it.)

  “Thanks?”

  (That might have come out harsher than it was intended. I was funning around.)

  “I just prefer to have no expectations.”

  (I’ll take my cue from that and go with The Stones. I’ll guess ‘The Last Time’ again. ‘The Last Time’ again, get it…)

  “I think—”

  (And I’ll be wrong. Whoa, I’ll amend my guess to ‘Sugar Magnolia’ because that’s what it is. Can you hear that in the tuning? ‘Sugar Mags,’ I don’t think we’ve had a full-on ‘Sugar Magnolia’ encore since my magical ’85. I like it when they keep us on our toes.)

  “I’m with you there. Everything’s an experience. That’s why I’m out here. I try to take inspiration from the Boys. You know what they say, ‘Never play it the same w
ay…once.’”

  STELLA BLUE

  (Where have you two been? You missed the entire set. And, Alison, my dear, this was the set for you… ‘Box of Rain,’ sweet, sweet ‘China Doll,’ ‘Morning Dew…’)

  (‘Morning Dew?’)

  (It was poetry at the end.)

  “Mommy, the Dead aren’t playing anymore.”

  (I see that, honey.)

  “Then how come everyone is still clapping?”

  (Because if we stand here and clap loud enough then the Dead will play one more song.)

  (Sort of like in Peter Pan when everyone claps for Tinkerbell. If you believe in Jerries, then clap your hands.)

  “Aunt Jenneeee!”

  (What? What? There wasn’t a swear in there, I swear.)

  “Nope.”

  (Then why did you Aunt Jenny me?)

  “You’re silly.”

  (That I am. Although your mom doesn’t seem to appreciate it. Alison, I’m sorry, I did mean to gloat about the ‘Dew.’)

  (That’s not it. I am just so burned up about these security a-holes—Stella, that one slides by on a technicality. I just—)

  “Look, the Grateful Dead, Mommy!”

  (There they are and—wow, ‘Sugar Magnolia.’ Now that’s a sweet one. Stella, you know this song.)

  “I do, Mommy.”

  (Do you want to stand on your chair?)

  “Uh-huh!”

  (Alright then. Enough talking about security, let’s just sit back and listen to the music play.)

  “But I thought you said I could stand, Mommy.”

  (The kid’s got spunk but she’s got to brush up on her lyrics. Stella, your mom’s quoting ‘Franklin’s Tower’ back at you. That’s it. No more disappearing during the second sets for you. You really need to—”

  “‘—tend the meetings. I know, Aunt Jenny, I know.”

  ROBIN

  “Sweet sweet set. Running in to see…”

  (Me tooooo.)

  “Everyone. Look at everyone.”

  (Lights, lighters…lighters, lights)

  “Whahooooooo!”

  (Yahheeeeeeeeeeeh!)