Read my book - sonofsaf.com
My other book - dominipede.com
My other book - theimmaculaterejection.com
My other book - negativefeedbackloop.com
My other book - scalpingjew.com
My other book - TheHatefulHead.com
Read my musical - BatBoyBitesBack.com
My other book - KetosisPsychosis.com
My latest musical - BigfootStomps.com
My other book - NotFuckingLove.com
My latest book -
NeverForgetLosing.com
Visit my site - agsaf.org
Could the purchase and restoration of one house in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania... prevent the next 9/11?
Like many other couples, Gigi and I have been searching for that perfect home. And we finally found it! It's a three story Old Style house on the city's scenic North Shore.
As if downtown Pittsburgh isn't a memorable sight. Walk out the front door and prepare yourself for spectacular views of the Point State Park fountain and the upper tier of Heinz Field. Behold the confluence of not one, not two, but three rivers. Bridges galore and more interstates, interchanges and intersections than you could possibly fathom. In keeping with that sentiment, you can even hop in your car and make the quickie trek to Intercourse, PA. Afternoon delight.
Unfortunately, the house is currently vacant and in need of a complete restoration. It precariously sits between a dusty warehouse and a Taco Bell. A short walk to the Rivers Casino and you'll likely gamble away next month's mortgage payment. A rusted guardrail separates the house from the Allegheny Police Headquarters. Now let's throw in a few panhandlers, some occasional gunfire, a ton of cigarette butts and the perpetual screeching of the train tracks.
Trust me. Aside from the notion of Bill Cosby purchasing some quaaludes in the backyard alley, this ain't the Huxtable residence.
Suffice to say, the house is admittedly different.
So if we did buy this place, how on earth would it prevent an asymmetric national security disaster? Now that statement requires a little bit of explaining.
Now you're probably wondering, "what the hell is this guy talking about?"
Okay, here's the deal. On game day, every NFL stadium has 50,000 - 100,000 active cellular devices. Considering the current state of wireless hyper-connectivity in every venue, the time has finally come to tell fans the truth. People have a fundamental right to know...
that if they are in a large, confined crowd and receive an evacuation order and/or panic-inducing information from their cell phone or mobile device...
it's almost certainly a malicious hoax designed to create an artificially generated stampede.
If a stadium emergency evacuation is deemed absolutely necessary, incident command uses the public address system in tandem with the video monitors. Because it's imperative to deliver a clear, unified, all-encompassing directive. You do NOT use cell phones to evacuate large, confined crowds. You do not play texting games with mega-throngs. That's just not how it works.
Sounds pretty simple and straightforward. Regrettably, nobody's allowed to talk about this generic safety issue for a variety of reasons: plausible deniability, foreseeable litigation and the lose-lose proposition. But there's an even bigger dilemma. Acknowledging the problem raises the notion of killing people without conventional weaponry. A terrifying precedent in the realm of generational warfare. It's the prospect of weaponizing a human stampede --- a black swan event that would irreparably alter the course of humanity.
I know all of this sounds really scary and even a bit conspiratorial. However, it's actually quite simple. It all boils down to the modern, technological equivalent of shouting "fire" in a crowded theater. Nothing more, nothing less. And just for the record, it's probably not one stampede. It's likely in the range of 8-10 stampedes.
Obviously, this is not an acceptable outcome.
So that's where we come in. What better a location to break ground on the first museum of its kind? Directly in the shadow of Heinz Field. An arsenal of wisdom and knowledge dedicated exclusively toward the prevention of the next possible 9/11 --- a dominipede (multiple, simultaneous human stampedes likely impacting the NFL 1 o'clock slate of games).
And it would provide the ideal setting for my book signings:
Sonofsaf: odd oh biography is an autobiography. Go figure! A lifetime collection of comically debilitating short stories circa 1970-2011. You'll find the circumcised perspective of an atheist Jew from West Virginia to be both uplifting and traumatic. Joy and pain. Sunshine and rain.
His heartfelt observations on a wide array of topics: art, labor, leisure and music will take your breath away. His thoughts on people, politics, religion and sports will leave you gasping for air. His ominous predictions will suck the life right outta yer lungs.
For Christ sake, enough with the innuendo. The book's about an undiscussable national security issue --- artificially generated stampedes. Give it a shot. If anything, it's free.
Dominipede: Book of Fear is the explicit prediction of an unfathomable future event. An incomprehensible disaster surpassing the scope and magnitude of 9/11.
The entire NFL 1 o'clock slate of games will be impacted. But it was all just a malicious hoax. Everything was based on a lie. Society will be transformed. Everything will change.
You'll be left permanently exasperated. Is it real? Is it fiction? Could it happen? Will it happen? When will it happen? History and humanity will judge the author. But should they? You decide.
A few months ago I wrote a book. Soon after, I became the most reviled Steelers fan in the history of mankind.
The Immaculate Rejection is the disheartening game day tale of a Pittsburgh 5th grader wishing to improve stadium safety. An overly optimistic Jewish boy from Squirrel Hill tries to shed light on an undiscussable subject --- the prospect of an artificially generated stampede at Heinz Field. But nobody wants to listen. Sid and Miss Priddy find things quickly spiraling out of control, resulting in what many will come to view as the next 9/11. Based on a true story... and a black swan.
NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell and several billionaire owners want this book "removed" from the internet but cannot acknowledge its existence. Quite the conundrum. Making matters worse, the book is free.
So whadda ya think? Let's fix up this house, stave off disaster and help make the world a better place. Also, we need more room for the dome hockey and foosball table.
Normally, the journey from Cleveland to Akron to Canton takes about an hour on I-77. However, my recent expedition lasted a little bit longer. 4 days to be precise. With a trip back to Pittsburgh thrown in the mix. Again, again and again.
I managed to hit up 3 high profile events. None of which are remotely connected in the slightest way whatsoever. In less than a span of 100 hours, I was exposed to some of the most heavily diverse segments of the population one could conceivably fathom. Such was the case from a Northeast Ohio population perspective.
Thursday night was the inaugural Republican Presidential debate on Fox. Sensing the political buzz and convenient proximity of Quicken Loans Arena in downtown Cleveland, I felt physically compelled to scope it out. Hey, what better a location to harass some high profile human beings about my asymmetric national security issue. Some were willing to speak. Others were unwilling to talk. Most would prefer to ignore or avoid me. So let me pose this question. Do you honestly think I care about the emotional predicaments of ANY of the 17 Republican presidential candidates? No. Newsflash: I neither give a flying fuck, nor a liquefied shit nay a mineralized piss.
Anyone who takes an interest in my ramblings, knows about my concerns regarding obsolete emergency evacuation protocol for large, confined crowds. I tend not to keep it a secret. In fact, for the past month or so, I've been spamming the fuck out of every presidential prospect's facebook page. Democrats too. Although I derive far greater satisfaction from assaulting the aspiring Republicans.
Five of them have even blocked me from their pages (Carson, Huckabee, Kasich, Santorum and Pataki). I must confess --- each time I see one block me, I actually get goosebumps. It's a distinction I carry with tremendous pride. Hell, in my mind, it's a noteworthy component of the electronic paper trail that will someday be a part of history. That's assuming my predictions about the next 9/11 are generally accurate, of course.
If you don't follow politics, scroll down a bit.
I'm just going to focus on my personal highlight reel. Now here's what that really means. I see someone in the distance and go pester them. I try to be polite yet stern. Focused but not annoying. Pleasant, succinct and unrelenting. Let's just say it's a delicate balance.
I made it to Cleveland around 3pm and headed straight into the action. Sensing the utter futility in acquiring a ticket (I didn't even bother to try), I focused more on crowd observation. Technically speaking, tickets really weren't "available." A limited number of 4,500 had been allotted a while back to Republican donors and party representatives. Suffice to say, I'm not on this list. I'd be more likely to find myself on Schindler's list in a 70 year pre-embryonic stage. Regardless, I'm sure the Republican party would have my zygotic back. Huzzah.
I ran into all kinds of people that fateful night. But for me personally, these ones stood apart from the rest.
First up was this guy. He's running for president!
Originally, I thought it was Jean-Luc Picard from the Starship Enterprise. But it's actually K. Ross Newland from Rockford, Illinois. We spoke for a bit and exchanged "platforms." His main theme was mostly about putting "Christ back into our country." You know, lap dancing with Jesus. Miscellaneous lordy lovin' and such. I suggested he team up with our very own Chrisagis Brothers. Maybe persuade them to do his campaign speech intro music. I did explain the risk factors though... the prospect of being overshadowed as well as the chortling laughter and vivacious crotch shots.
He had other positions too. Enhanced border security, liveable wages and fair taxation. Unfortunately, you won't be seeing him on the debate stage anytime soon. In all honesty, I doubt I'd vote for him (due to the religious crap), but I will tell you something... he's definitely a "man of the people." I give him credit.
Next up. Debbie Wasserman Shultz --- the Chair of the Democratic Party. My mom's a big fan.
She was doing some "rebuttal" interviews for CNN. She was pleasant but pretty busy. Dressed to impress as well. Wearing an extremely form-fitting black and white dress. Let's just say... for a diminutive white gal... baby got back! Her junk in the trunk would be the envy of any salvage operation. She referred me to one of her aides. Fellow Floridian Sean Bartlett. He was incredibly engaging. Totally understood my concerns and asked a few relevant questions and made some decent observations. I emailed him as promised, but won't be holding my breath waiting for a reply.
Watched this woman for a while at the Fox News tent.
She's outstanding. Former press secretary for George Bush. I've always had a lot of respect for Dana Perino. Stealth, professional delivery.
The pace was slowly picking up. This dashing young man below was chatting with someone and asked me to snap their picture.
I kindly obliged, "No problem at all, but you'll have to listen to my concerns about stadium safety."
Yep, it was former CNN and now Fox News O'Reilly substitute Juan Williams. Now this is one sharp dressed man. As I introduced my material, he said (and I quote), "Yeah, I've actually heard about this issue. I've personally never researched the subject but I totally see the problem. And I understand why none of the candidates would want to have anything to do with it." Now that got my heart pumping. He was incredibly authentic. Considering the setting, I can't fathom any reason he would possibly lie. And he totally got the catch-22. Just as my journo-man crush began to consume my stampeding groin, he informed me that he needed to get inside the arena. But he assured me he'd look into the matter further.
Gigi called me and told me I should find the MSNBC crew who were doing extensive live coverage nearby. They had a pretty big crowd. Enthusiastic too. Great set up. I snagged a free Hardball w/ Chris Matthews t-shirt for my woman. She thinks he should run for PA governor. I concur. I'd take it one step further and say... POTUS.
All kinds of celebrity journalists were offering commentary and rotating insight. Totally fascinating to watch the producers and the back and forth with New York. The way they shuffled the speakers, never missing a beat. I planted myself next to the monitors for the entire debate. During the course of the evening, I was literally plastered all over the MSNBC telecast. Don't fret. I wasn't one of those waving imbeciles or screeching jerk-offs. Rest assured, I worry about the herd. But I'm not a part of the herd.
Around 11pm, I was milling about and encountered this dude... who looked like a lady.
Totally blew my mind. What the fuck was Steven Tyler doing in Cleveland at the corner of East 4th and Huron? He was surrounded by a posse of 3 women and 1 other guy. They were walking away from the action. So naturally, I followed and started to engage him. The guy he was with tried to brush me off, but Steven Tyler CAME TO MY DEFENSE. "Let the man talk," he said. "Walk with us." As I explained the stampede issue and how he could essentially play a "Bob Barker-esque" role in preventing a future catastrophe, he started to get where I was coming from. It took him a while but he started to understand what I was yapping about. The blond girl in the crew stared at me intently. She said, "Holy shit, my friends and I have talked about this stuff. You think it's going to be "a hack," don't you?" I explained how there were numerous ways to create an artificially generated stampede.
After a few minutes, they said they had to "skedaddle" and wished me well. I later found out that he was there for the Hall of Fame game (more on that later). Aerosmith was performing at the televised ceremonies and had a follow-up concert at the Covelli Center in Youngstown. I had zero knowledge of any of this which made the accidental run-in very kewl. Seriously, a happen-chance meeting with Steven Tyler after the inaugural Republican primary debate. I'd have never seen that one comin' in a million years. It felt odd to literally tower over a celebrity. He couldn't be much taller than 5'6" or so. And thin as a rail.
Now for a big one.
This man stepped off the Hardball stage. I think he's second to last in the polls (behind former Virginia governor Jim Gilmore). Obviously in the mix hoping for a VP slot.
Yep. Former 3 term governor of New York, George Pataki. Naturally, I went in for the swift kill (with a little more guts than that asshole who killed Cecil the Lion in Zimbabwe). Think in terms of being on the prowl. I asked him directly in front of a dozen people if he'd take 30 seconds to hear my concerns about a potential asymmetric national security issue that could conceivably rival 9/11. He tried to turn away and pivot but I followed explaining how nobody's willing to acknowledge the downside of wireless hyper-connectivity in every NFL stadium. That got everyone's attention.
Consummate politician. He didn't utter a word but gave me this hazed gaze. Like a deer stuck in headlights. Pataki had trouble processing the fact that some street-person-nobody would attempt to "rain on his parade." Hmmm, sounds pretty consistent with the Republican bigwigs. Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure he knew about my material. After all, his campaign team went through the trouble to block me from commenting on their facebook page. Considering I never curse or engage in ad hominem attacks, banning someone strikes me as pretty outside the norm. Pataki routinely gets about 40 replies when he posts a comment. Very miniscule social media presence. Not like Donald Trump with tens of thousands of bloodthirsty, menstruating commentators weighing in. Anyway, one of his aides played the role of "running interference" and tried to "absorb" the interrogation. I actually ended up speaking to him for a good bit and he had a pretty decent grasp regarding my concerns.
A little while passed and I ran into Chip Englander.
Now who the hell is this? Excellent question. It's Rand Paul's campaign manager. And he was a complete douchebag asshole. Totally petulant and unresponsive. At first, I assumed it was because his man Rand had an "off" night in the debate. I later learned that several of Rand's campaign staff just came under FBI indictments for basically taking bribes, multiple payments of $8,000. Seems like someone high up in the Justice Department doesn't wish to "stand with Rand."
Although there were several others, these two were my last major victims of the evening.
At least I got to finish on a high note. Chris Matthews and Howard Fineman. Love the former. Admire the latter. Nearing 1:30am, both were physically exhausted so I kept it brief. Chris pointedly asked me if anyone else is concerned about this issue. I replied, "plenty." Then he asked if anyone else had written about "this artificially generated stampede thing." I explained that I was the only one. He playfully smiled back with a light smirk. Still, he promised he'd look into it. Now I love Chris Matthews, but once again, I won't be holding my breath.
All in all, it was a scintillating night. I blew off plenty of steam and got my point across to the best of my ability. Will any of it matter? Of course not. But that's okay. I got to say my peace. And I wasn't even bullied by the Cleveland SWAT unit or the rooftop snipers. Seriously, the military presence was outrageous. What were they expecting anyway? An urban uprising from a bunch of 70 year old Caucasian grannies from Tyler, Texas and Juniper, Florida? What about all those neo-con policy wonk upstarts? Gimme a fuckin' break.
Anyway, mission accomplished. So it was around 2am and I decided to head down to Blossom Amphitheater in Akron for a Phish concert later that night. But I get near the general area and all the hotels rooms are booked because there's a PGA event at the Firestone course. I found a hotel but they wanted $250 for the night. Blah. So I tried to sleep in my car. After a half hour of tossing around, I just couldn't crash. So I went back to the Burgh.
Next morning I hooked up with the duo of Maximum Joy in Wheeling. Ahh, a chauffeured ride to the Phish concert. I'm not going to explain what a Phish show is. For reference purposes, we'll just call it a big party.
Snagged a ticket for $40 off a guy who just paid $45 at the box office window. Hardly the deal of a lifetime, but it gave me just enough satisfaction. I'll provide three random excerpts.
Met a confused, disoriented girl from Connecticut who couldn't find her way back to the car. She asked me, "Do you know where I'm supposed to be?" I once asked a similar question at Nelson Ledges (about 30 minutes up the road) back in 1998. Triggered an amusing memory.
Bought a really limp grilled cheese sandwich after the show. Lamest, nonexistent grill marks in the history of any Phish lot. Shame on the girl who sold it to me. You know who you are. Instead of advertising "yummy grilled cheese," she should have been yelling "American cheese food on discount Wonder."
Phish encored with Zeppelin's "Good Times, Bad Times." I honestly prefer the cover done by Nuclear Assault. A little raw, but worthy of a quick glance.
So onto the finale. Gigi and I hit the NFL Hall of Fame game on Sunday. We skipped the 76 turnpike and decided to take the back-way because the weather was so pleasant. Plus it's the same time. Slightly over 2 hours. Mostly route 30W through most of PA and OH.
We didn't enter the actual Hall of Fame. Thirty bucks to stand in a 2 hour line waiting for an autograph. We also didn't play punt, pass or kick in the virtual Fun Zone. Blaring, distorted speakers churning out Sweet Child O' Mine on endless repeat. No $250 NFL official jersey. No $10 Bud Light drafts. No $5 hot dog. We didn't spend a dime. We're definitely not the NFL prototype consumers.
We snagged a couple freebie tickets though. A special thanks to our friends --- you know who you you are.
Note the "exposed cat ass" magnet in between the helmets. We call this "frig-worthy" in honor of Elaine Benes and those she deems "sponge-worthy."
Our seats were in different locations. Technically speaking, one of them wasn't a seat. Twas an all-access pass. So we grabbed some "obstructed view seats" next to a cameraman on the last row of the upper level. Best seats in Fawcett Stadium. Nothing's worse than those old-school high school bleacher seats... when the person tromps midway through the aisle and has the spot next to you... and they weigh close to the 400 lb. range. We watched this scenario unfold and felt horrible for all involved.
We saw the parachutists. We saw the towels. We saw the flyover. We saw the pyrotechnics. We saw the polar bear. We saw the marching band. We saw enough and bolted at the end of the third period.
On the way out, we scored a "stack" of NFL sticker books (30 in total). As Gigi would say, these will make excellent "stocking stuffers" for when Santa makes his annual Sewickley sojourn.
I was a little taken aback by the NFL's gimmicky generosity. But I figured they'd make nice little throw-away gifts to our friends with grade school kids. I even reflected... what an uplifting parting gift for those who made the trek to Canton. Maybe the NFL really does care about its fans!
Today, I opened the sticker book. They give you 10 "free" stickers. And then ask you to mail a check or money order for additional packets. So here's the reality. Each team has about 14 stickers. Each sticker costs 20 cents. That's $2.80 per team. If you wish to fill the book, that's 32 teams. For a grand total of $89.60 + $2.00 s/h = $91.60.
Then I found some additional "hidden" sticker add-ons. Ones representing the draft, Superbowl 50 and various Hall of Fame inductees. And last but not least, there was a page devoted exclusively to Roger Goodell's cock and balls. I don't know about you but I would most certainly pay .20 for a sticker of Goodell's circumcised prick. I'd even be willing to get a tattoo of his ass... on my ass!
This brought the total number of stickers to 476. That increased the total to $95.20 + s/h. Obviously, the goal here was to keep everything just under the $100 mark. C'mon Man! I nearly projectile vomited into an officially licensed NFL commode.
Could I have possibly been more naive. What a fucking racket! Kind of like their new special deal for college kids --- half off the NFL DirecTV package. So instead of $199 for all those dorm rooms and frat houses, you get every game for $100. What better a way to promote frugality and collegiate indoctrination.
I'd be curious to see how much the NFL grossed from this Hall of Fame rubbish. Back in the day, we went to a couple of them. 49ers vs. the Patriots and Browns vs. Cowboys. There was little fanfare or pomp and circumstance. For the most part, it was just the season kickoff. Now it has evolved into a hoopie vacation-land and carnie-like money grab on steroids.
Is it any wonder I'm the most hated person in the history of the NFL? In no particular order....
A quarter of a century ago, I attended one of my all-time favorite concerts. Jane's Addiction played to a packed house at the University of Duquesne's A.J. Palumbo Center on the Ritual de lo Habitual tour. Around 5,000 people crammed into a basketball gymnasium. That was 1991 and I was 21 years old.
Fortunately, whoever ripped my ticket left behind the latter part of the
band's name. Hey, information can be addicting. Information spawns
addiction. At least for me it does. If you disagree with that
sentiment, you need not continue reading. The remainder of this blog
will be of little interest.
When entering a venue, they used to pat you down and rip
your ticket. Now they "wand you" and scan the ticket. I remember when
fans would beg the usher to just rip a tiny corner of the ticket. I'll assume they
wanted to
preserve the evidence for their scrapbook. Guilty as charged.
How times have changed. Just learning about the event itself is different. Back then, you stumbled across a flyer stapled to a telephone pole. Or maybe you saw an ad in the Pittsburgh City Paper. Nowadays, you do a google search and receive the details in 2-3 seconds. Modes of communication have changed as well. In 1991, there were pay phones everywhere. You'd deposit a dime or a quarter. These days, everyone (regardless of income level) has a cell phone. Since 1998, the world has changed markedly. Personalized transmission of information and wireless mobile devices are the wildcard. And narcissism is the ticket. Everyone participates but few seem willing to speculate about the consequences. Even fewer realize the role they play.
Everyone has a mobile device. Perhaps it's
already attached to your face. Someday, I imagine it will be embedded
in your body. There was a hysterical episode of Shark Tank
where this "futuristic weirdo" had a proposal to surgically implant a Blue
Tooth-like device in your ear. He may have seemed a little off but I
don't think his vision was that far off. If you seriously consider the
reliance on pacemakers, artificial limbs, boob implants... I can see
where he was heading.
Here's the Jane's Addiction set list from that memorable night in 1991:
Now here I sit, almost 25 years later, having just attended another Jane's Addiction concert. Gigi and I hit the July 10 show at Stage AE. I'd estimate an outdoor crowd around 3,500 or so.
Gigi snagged an official set list. Score!
They performed Nothing Shocking in its entirety. Killer stuff. Great concert opener: Up the Beach > Ocean Size.
I attended a couple other Jane shows along the way. Cleopatra Carmen, me and a few others hit up the Perry Ferrell solo project (Porno for Pyros) at I.C. Light Amphitheater back in 1993. It was the same night "Fugazi" exposed himself to me in an alley by the Metropol in the Strip District. They also headlined the 2003 Lollapalooza concert at Starlake. Saw that one too. They played Starlake again in 2009 w/ Nine Inch Nails, but I missed that one. Not sure what stopped me. Through it all, I've maintained an admittedly steadfast addiction and infatuation with all things Jane.
While I don't personally know the man, Perry Ferrell and I have much in common. Not the bisexuality. Not the dreadlocks. But rather, the creativity and vision. That's right. I'm comparing myself to a rock icon. Given, that's a lot of audacity. But with one major difference. My shit's more important.
Back in the early 90's, Ferrell conceptualized the entire premise of Lollapalooza. This is a much bigger deal than you'd think. At the time, there were plenty of music festivals, but nobody dared bring together all the different genres. Ferrell pushed the envelope with this societal experiment. The rap crowd, the country crowd, the indie crowd, the metal crowd. Hey, why not try it? The answer --- because nobody had the courage to embrace the unpredictability... the prophetic notion of taking a risk.
A few years back, I borrowed the "palooza" monicker for my own idea... SOAKAPALOOZA. It was all about Westboro Baptist church payback. Whenever the Topekafucks show up, you simultaneously announce an all-out water balloon fight to coincide with the festivities. You also arm everyone with Super Soakers. Fill 'em up with cheap beer. May I recommend a keg of Natural Ice? Everyone gets drenched in the crossfire. Ohh, the outlandish hilarity of fun and games. Eventually, the video footage goes viral and those intolerant Kansan bastards get a dose of their own righteous medicine. Hint: It's called being a copycat. I wrote about it in the Religion chapter of my odd oh biography.
Those same assholes just announced they're going to "protest" the funerals of the recent movie theater shootings in Louisiana. What the fuck. It will never end unless regular people step up their game. Unless society chooses to be proactive as opposed to reactive. I know. I know. Don't give them the publicity. That's how they thrive. It's what they crave. You're playing right into their hands.
Newsflash: The WBC follows the same model as the current asinine freakshow leading the polls for the Republican presidential nomination. Trumpapalooza.
Yeah, Soakapalooza was amusing. It never really panned out, but I know it has anarchistic merit.
Anyway, this blog isn't about my recollections of Soakapalooza. It's about the creation of words and concepts that have yet to emerge. Picture yourself back in 1980. Before words like "internet." Before concepts like "cyberspace." The same rules apply directly to my shit. Words like "dominipede." Concepts like an "artificially generated stampede." They just haven't happened... yet.
I can assure you of something. This stuff was around well before it just seemingly happened. The vast majority of mankind just has difficulty envisioning the future. It's always about celebrating events of the past. Holidays, birthdays, baptisms, circumcisions, tombstones, the list goes on. Few are willing to write about "that which is yet to come." Because if they try, it becomes fictional or conspiratorial or delusional. With one major exception --- the return of Jeebus... of course.
I humbly give you the definition of a "black swan" - an unpredictable or unforeseen event, typically one with extreme consequences. If there was ever a term that's google-worthy. Trust me, try"black swan."
Gigi and I took in a brief Midwest road trip over the 4th of July weekend. Considering our vehicles are a little dated (2001 Subaru Outback and a 1995 Honda Civic), we thought it would be advisable to rent a car. The prospect of breaking down in Gary, Indiana just didn't seem too appealing. So we snagged a midsize, which translated into a 2015 Nissan Altima, which loosely deciphers into vehicular nirvana.
We checked inn to our hotel, a Hampton In, inn downtown Chicago early Thursday night. About 3 miles up from the Soldier Field. Snagged some dinner at a nearby restaurant named Beatrix. Gigi had a pork shank w/ peaches. I had the braised short ribs w/ mashed potatoes. Good stuff. Took in a few drinks at the hotel hot tub and called it a night.
We checked out early (literally not figuratively) and parked at a nearby lot (Adler Planetarium along scenic Lake Michigan). All parking was $49. Not much you can do to avoid the evil reality of parking and tolls. We're gradually reaching a tipping point in American society. When the cost to park your car exceeds the cost of the event itself.
The weather was absolutely perfect - high 70's, low 80's and breezy. I snagged some exceptional beer for this road trip. Terrapin Brewery from Athens, GA seemed like the appropriate choice. Excellent stuff. A variety pack consisting of Rye, Hopsecutioner, Chocolate Peanut Butter and Captain Krunkles India Pale Ale. All four were outstanding, particularly the Rye Pale Ale.
Even the Count Chocula crap was pretty good. You just have to be in the right frame of mind. I absolutely despise all the fruit-craft beers, particularly anything with lemon or raspberry. But of all the idiot beers, I abhor anything pumpkin/cinnamon spice related. Why not just force feed yourself a tablespoon of nutmeg? Why would you pay a premium price to quaff this nonsensical Bahama Mama bullshit? Note: we did have our standard backup of MBL (Milwaukee's Best Light), but that's neither here nor there.
So we got our "hike on" and hit up some of the local sites. Then, we had a chance encounter with our friends from Wintersville, Ohio (Dave and Renea). Great seeing those two.
Those who know me, are aware that I have an extensive Grateful Dead license plate collection. About 380 actual pictures of plates taken from the lot scene circa 1990-1995. During the move to Pittsburgh, everything was disassembled from my bedroom wall. One day I'll make a poster out of them. In the interim, enjoy this fantasy set list I constructed back in 2011 for my odd-oh biography.
Naturally, I kept an eye out for some new ones, but didn't have much success. We spotted a hippie bus with a California plate (DAWHEEL), but I couldn't get it in time. Saw a Wisconsin SLPKNT which I had previously taken back in the day, but the Saab owners had left the scene. What a pity. I would've enjoyed speaking with them. I did scrounge up these two.
This one's a little on the lame side. I mean.. I guess I get it. I'm sure he's a proud father of his patchouli drenched offspring and all... but seriously, c'mon man!
This Illinois (Terrapin) is kinda weak but the guy who owned it was exceptionally cool. Apparently, his wife "used to date Bob Weir." Odd... because I always thought Bobby was closeted homosexual. His gang regaled us with a variety of classic acoustic rock songs. And their leader told us of his 1990 tour exploits at the Tinley World Music Amphitheater (among other places). Great storyteller. He also gave us some patriotic jello shots and a couple bumper stickers.
I'm normally not one who emblazons my vehicle with skulls and roses or dancing bears, turtles and the historic evolution of the mushroom. But I do like the smiley face on the grilled cheese. Maybe I'll stick it on our scrabble notebook.
Having no tickets in hand, we kinda made a deliberate decision to NOT compete with the legions of miracle seekers. It's always about supply and demand. Lamentably, the dreaded hordes of stank were inextricably on the prowl, fingers raised in abundance. We could have given it a better effort but it just didn't conform to the flow of the afternoon.
Towards crunch time, this one crazed, zany Dead fan tried to give Gigi his ticket. He acted like he wouldn't be able to cope with the sensory input overload from a rock concert. But she just couldn't accept it. We hung out with him for a good bit and "brought him back down." He thanked us accordingly for our discretion and psychiatric counseling. Then, he abruptly bolted into Soldier Field.
Having not seen any of the three actual Chicago shows, I'm won't offer a lengthy analysis of the set lists. Suffice to say, I really liked the song selections from the 4th and 5th. I zipped through some of the pay per view footage on youtube. The musicianship seemed a little slow for my taste, but that's just me. In retrospect, I'm content to leave my memories of the Dead firmly grounded in 1989-90. Everything else, I just don't take too seriously. Maybe 1985-1988.
One last observation of the Fare Thee Well tour. I have zero tolerance for these fake laminate, cardboard idiot necklace things.
These are NOT badges of honor. They are badges of shame. Why must people advertise that they're "concert newbies?" It's like those Japanese tourists relentlessly snapping pictures of the McDonald's golden arches. But duhhh, it came with the $199 VIP package. Yeah, nice job fucko! You got a dollar t-shirt, a vegan hot dog, a single plastic rose, that 10 cent wearable and a Casey Jones "high on cocaine" energy drink. Way to go. I'm really impressed.
So we bolted South as the band finished up with Help > Slip > Frank. Figured it would be best to not spend an hour or two in heavy traffic. Snagged a room at the Radisson Hotel in Merrillville, Indiana and called it a night.
Next morning we wolfed down a surprisingly tasty hotel breakfast and headed down I-65. Stopped to refuel and grabbed an extra 6-pack of Red Stripe. We hit up the Tippecanoe Battlefield Memorial adjacent to Prophetstown State Park near Lafayette. Not bad, many perished, nice restrooms, avoided the gift shop.
We arrived at the Indy Motor Speedway around 3pm. Huge line of traffic. Ironic, because we just strolled in and parked for free at a lot adjacent to the Southeastern grandstands. Why are all these people desperate to pay and park in the infield when you can just use the perimeter lots? I don't get the mindset. Must be an "Indy manners, Peyton Manning hospitality thing." The locals will patiently wait and pay out the ass... while the out-of-towners are treated like royalty.
We had little difficulty in snagging two freebies. One was a gold ticket, the other a bronze. With applicable service charges and printing fees, one was $400 and the other was $100. Ouch. People were eating tickets left and right... as if they were comfortably throwing away food at a Golden Corral buffet.
You could stand in three different areas (Bronze, Silver or Gold). If you've never been to a concert, that loosely translates to close, closer and closest. Then, we fashioned some "illegal" wrist bands to help expedite our move to the front.
Examine them carefully and you'll see the hastily taped "Marlboro Light box cigarette cut-out" enhancement. Inspired by our excursion to Chicago, it was reminiscent of the doctored Obama "short form" birth certificate. Admittedly a tad more ghetto.
I must concede... I had an unbelievably naive perspective of the Stones concert at IMS. For some reason, I thought all of the grandstands would be used for seating. And the in-field would be for standing general admission. Of course, if my vision was accurate, attendance would have been around 3 million+.
Fuck it, there's a nine hole golf course inside that place.
Turns out, they cordoned off a small section for a crowd of roughly 50,000. However, it was the biggest (and only weekend) concert in the history of the motor speedway.
The concert itself was bad ass. Far superior to the uninspired Pittsburgh performance. You can't even compare the two. The band was energized. At one point, Jagger referenced a bad joke about New England's Tom Brady which left him feeling a bit "deflated." Funny stuff.
Highlights for me were a soulful rendition of "Wild Horses" and an absolutely killer "Gimme Shelter." Another highlight --- intentionally skipping the Rascal Flatt's opening act.
Incessant fireworks following the concert. After the show, Gigi found a KOA campground and whipped out her pop-up tent. Needless to say, we crashed out in no time. Woke up early and hit the road. Stopped at Katzinger's Deli in Columbus and got some soup and sandwiches to go. Katzinger's gets my atheist Jew, godless kike seal of approval. Word to the wise, pay the extra couple bucks and get the bigger sandwich. You won't be disappointed. We weren't.
And oh yeah, we snagged a GD sign off the western chain-link fence of Soldier Field. Not a huge deal, but it did help emotionally compensate for being shut out. One of the banned items on the list is confetti! Gimme a fucking break.
And that concludes our 4-day, haphazard vacation of the Midwest. Let me put it in terms you deadheads can comprehend.
2nd set: Pennsylvania > Ohio > Indiana > Illinois > Indiana > Ohio > West Virginia > Pennsylvania.
Double encore:
Hot shower
Corned beef sandwich
If you enjoyed this dueling concert review, please consider reading either of these articles I've penned regarding the Grateful Dead or Rolling Stones solving a looming, asymmetric national security threat to the United States. It's a black swan event that could very well be the next 9/11. But don't worry so much. Just sit back, drink your beer and smoke your grass. Hey, nobody else gives a shit. So why should you care? You god-damn fucking hippie.
Yesterday, I watched some of the Chris Christie presidential campaign announcement. All in all, I liked it. I liked the extemporaneous approach. I liked the intimate "in the round" setting. And I really liked the fact that he went to his high school in Livingston, NJ as opposed to standing in front of a massive B-52 Bomber. Even better, standing on an aircraft carrier. We call that "Bush envy." They should've announced in front of a mammoth widescreen replaying the Hindenburg tragedy.
"My name's Chris Christie and I will courageously defend your blue state butt."
I'm Chris Christie and I approve of your butt." Oh, the humanity.
I think voters are finally growing wise to the excessive use of military props. Not the American flag though. Regrettably, one flag still ain't enough. You need a half dozen in a row of perfect symmetry. Hey, how else are you gonna be able to quantify their patriotism and love of country? More flags... more flags... more flags. They should hand out tiny little edible flags for the crowd. I love the flag so much, I'm gonna eat it. Then, I'm gonna shit it out and eat the shit. Truth be told, many consider the American flag a regurgitated delicacy.
Call it a hunch, but I think the "zero teleprompter" approach (ironically embraced by Trump the carnival barker) could heavily influence future candidate speeches and strategies. Voters have grown exhausted with these badly rehearsed, environmentally controlled soirees. Seriously, you gotta love the superimposed, ethnically diverse backdrop when Rick Perry hits the stage. Yes!!! Hmmm, now what do legal immigrants from Uganda, India, Singapore, Mozambique, Uruguay and Sudan all have in common? Well, they're indubitably diehard Perry fans residing in Waco and Galveston. Now THAT makes sense.
With the Republican field currently surpassing 15 "credible" candidates, the most important consideration is trying to distinguish yourself from the herd. That's NOT going to be accomplished with canned speeches at the Western Baptist church or the regional pig-squealing contest. You gotta think outside the box. Granted, it'll be a total nightmare for the damage control consultants. But the needs of the candidate take precedence. You must come across as an authentic human being. That means taking actual, real questions and demonstrating a willingness to cope with occasional backlash. And sometimes that lends itself to unpleasant realities. Hey, not every voter mindlessly applauds at the Sarah Palin rally (U.S.A.! U.S.A.!, hockey moms of the world unite, drilling for Jesus, whatever). It might sell in Iowa to the pill-poppin' Jesus freaks, but definitely not in New Hampshire.
Now this requires an incredible degree of discipline. You actually have to listen to your advisers, be able to take constructive criticism, and most important, study and rehearse. Over the long haul, a self professed know-it-all like Trump will eventually implode. His ego won't be able to reconcile the reality of the situation on the ground.
There is certainly merit in appearing off-the-cuff and flying by your seat of your pants, or in the case of Carly Fiorina, flying by the seat of your pantsuits. I'm just sayin' --- you gotta thread the needle and walk the line. With all of these candidates, you gotta incorporate some calculated risk. The 2016 race is noticeably different. You need to stay relevant and in the news. And the best way to accomplish this? Venture into unexplored territory. Try something new, something different. Much like a gift assortment of fruit syrups.
The media becomes more "tuned in" when a greater level of spontaneity lends itself to miscues and general intrigue. So you're more likely to get the attention of the major news networks. Seriously, other than friends, family and political consultants, who the hell actually watched George Pataki's announcement? Who the hell actually knows he's running for president? Peculiar... you would think a 3-term former New York Republican governor would command a little more weight.
But if it's weight you seek...
Yep... sit down and shut up! Close your damn mouth! CHRISTIE IS BACK. I'm not sure whatever happened with Bridgegate. Honestly, for the vast majority of voters, it's a distant, forgotten afterthought. Most people don't care unless they reside in Fort Lee, NJ.
I generally don't care for Christie. But if I had to place a bet. I think he has a better shot than the odds claim. Because he has the strongest niche. Not necessarily the best niche for an ultra-conservative primary, but it's still a niche. It's all about differentiation. If he can somehow miraculously survive Iowa and South Carolina... Nevada seems more feasible with his AC connections. And it's very conceivable he could play in Florida. The pundits say he's putting all his deviled eggs in one basket --- New Hampshire. Smart move. This is going to be a lengthy primary. Nobody wants to concede too early. Many envision a book deal or want to raise their coinage. Longer they're in, the better.
So here's my idea. Instead of preaching at every church bingo and flipping pancakes inside the local diner. Instead of going the typical route with visits to veteran organizations and small businesses, here's what I'd do.
Some (scatterbrained) advice.
I'd make it a theme to go outside every Target Department store in the state of New Hampshire. Do it right before every debate and USE THE EXPERIENCES TO DELIVER YOUR MESSAGE. I just met with Dale Jenkins and he told me he needs back surgery.... I just had an encounter with retiree Charlene Locke and she's worried about her benefits.
There's only a grand total of 6 Targets in the entire state so they're relatively easy to navigate. Just meet people out front and listen to their concerns. Here's why I think this would be a novel idea. First, the word "target." Any time the press mentions it, there's a subliminal inference that he's the candidate with a "target on his back." To the uninformed voter, it makes you appear as the frontrunner. All of a sudden, Christie's the one that everyone is trying to dislodge or take a shot at. Remember, at this point, it's about separating yourself from the pack.
'Ol fashioned retail politics. In New Hampshire it still counts. Plus, I think the "target" reference might attract a few confused gun nuts or 2nd Amendment fanatics. Sounds imposing. Best of all, once you do it, you own it. If anyone else from the clown car tries to pull it off, the late night comedians will annihilate them. Christie could really sell something like this. Definitely, one of the more capable, convincing aspirants (with a focus on the ass part). He puts the "candid in candidate." Note to Christie campaign > use that line. It's a winner.
Second, it's totally in keeping with his brash blue collar, populist message. Reminds me of the Gore 2000 campaign (angry populism, we can do better jibber jabber). Christie's trying to appeal to the common man. Not the elitist, millionaire Republican voter. There's already plenty of competition for the Koch-Adelson-Friess money. And hey, they're not going to back Christie anyway. He just doesn't fit the ass-kissing profile. Certainly not to the extent of Rubio, Santorum and the remainder of the lapdog ilk.
Third, what better a place to embrace his campaign slogan --- "telling it like it is." Target. What better a location? The place regular Joes and Josephines shop for basic necessities. For some reason, Target never gets hit with the anti-Walmart bashing criticism. Not sure why, but Target and other big retailers seem to get a pass. Everything's always walmart-centric. Funny how people easily make the distinction.
Fourth, since he's made a deliberate choice to go unscripted, why not TRULY go out and be a man of the people. Get your hands a little dirty. Assuming Hillary gets the Democratic nod, this makes Christie look like a champion of middle class. Four years later is a good time to recognize the "out-of touch" issues that devastated Mitt Romney. Who knows? Maybe the narrative would actually stick. Could be an unanticipated setback for Hilldog. Either way, it's the vote Christie needs if he's going to actually win the White House.
Fifth, I think Christie is a good candidate to pull off a debate zinger. He's pretty comfortable and plain spoken. Now with most of the others, that bazinga moment is going to come across as scripted and desperate. If I were in charge of his campaign, I'd have a few "spontaneous" attacks directed at the other major candidates, not just Hillary and Obama. Preferably ones that make him appear to be a champion of the common man. Stuff like, "Mitt, how's the car elevator working?" Ridicule Trump too, "How are all your lawsuits doing?" Seriously, who the fuck has a dozen simultaneous lawsuits?
Sixth, play up the Sopranos angle. Don't go overboard with it, but throw in some Italian/Jew comments and ethnic humor. Here's one --- Listen, Bobby Jindal is an national security expert just because he travels to New Dehli? Hey now, I've traveled to many delis. And specifically rattle off a list of privately owned delicatessens. Lotito's, A&S, Jerry's, Giovanni's, etc. Another winner. Nullify the weight issue on YOUR terms. Self-deprecation is a hot commodity these days, especially when your main competitor is an arrogant, prick-like fuck (Trump).
Play up the Bruce Springsteen and Bon Jovi angles too. You can even use my joke, "Hey, I'm not only good friends with Bon Jovi, I'm friends with his aunt as well. Her name's anchovy." Maybe emcee a "get out the youth vote" rally with a drunken Snookie.
And throw in some Jets/Giants comments about the stadium being located in East Rutherford. Anytime the conversation shifts to the liberal, elitist New Yorker refrain, you tell them, hey I was just at the Jets game... in New Jersey. Rock music and football sell well in mainstream America. This is how the majority of dumbshits will remember you. Not social security. Not national defense. Go for the classic drugs, sex and rock'n'roll. Minus the drugs and sex of course. I don't use drugs, but historically speaking, I have had a case of the munchies. Play up the fact that you've seen Springsteen over a hundred times. Leaves people with the impression that YOU are the rock star... or at least you speak to them on a semi-regular basis. Just as good.
Seventh, use policy to shred Trump. Call him out on all that birther nonsense. A New Hampshire crowd will NOT be receptive to that line of bullshit. Explain how a big part of politics is when there's a national disaster (Hurricane Sandy), you require normalized relations with the President, regardless of party. Lives are on the line. It's not about you. The real-world doesn't work in your narcissistic fantasy world.
Push the red governor in a blue state aspect. It's one of your best ideological attributes. And it's handed to you on a silver platter.
Explain how we might not like Obama, but he has been effective in getting things done. Getting his agenda railroaded through Congress. Just not the stuff the Repubs want done. I am Chris Christie. I have learned those tricks of the trade, firsthand. And I'll use them to defeat Hillary.
Push Sandy too. It's your environmental 9/11. Coming together in the aftermath of a tragedy. Reaching out across the aisle. Bring people together. Unity.
Also, go after Trump on a livable minimum wage. I think Christie is the only Republican candidate willing to go on record for an increase in the federal minimum wags. Ask him how a multi-bilionaire deals with cleaning the gutters or mowing the lawn. Mock the shit out of that fuck... with a smile on your face. If you're going to target any of them, go after the one who will naturally be at the center of the controversy. People love the "regular guy" who puts "the boss" in his place. Embrace the role of the underdog.
Be bold --- "Donald, Ronald McDonald, whoever... you are destroying the Republican brand! And I take this stuff seriously. Because the damage you're inflicting now, could be our demise in the general." Crowd goes "Yay." Then, follow it up with, I'm not trying to beat you guys. I'm trying to beat Hillary and put a Republican in the White House. Crowd goes "Super-duper yay!"
That's really the secret for Christie - a smooth transition from "angry, hostile" Christie to "introspective, tempered" Christie. With frequent moments of "seemingly spontaneous" passion.
Alright, lemme just say that I'm doing my part. I've been spamming the hell out of Christie on social media... so much so, that they banned me from making public comments again. Curious to see how long this one lasts. Not too concerned about it.
Governor Christie, here's an idea. Hope you can incorporate it in the campaign. It's about transparency, the truth and "telling it like it is." It's about keeping Americans safe. Every NFL stadium has 50,000 - 100,000 active cell phones. We need to explicitly warn fans that LEGITIMATE emergency evacuation orders do NOT come from their mobile devices. If something like this were to happen, it's a malicious HOAX designed to create an "artificially generated stampede."
Just some common sense, public safety info that nobody's allowed to talk about. The federal government and private industry won't go anywhere near it... unless there's a tragedy. Chris Christie, do you have the moral courage to acknowledge this asymmetric national security issue?
Ask him (or any other presidential candidate) about it and you'll likely be hailed as the "Edward Snowden of sports journalism." Great question for a town hall. Because they'd never allow it in the televised debates.
Note: I use the same spam on Ted Cruz, but I refer to him as Senator Crud. "Ted Crud... do you have the moral courage...?"
I listened to some blips from last night's Fare Thee Well tour in Santa Clara. While I am a big Dead fan (46 shows under my 36" belt, all of them 1989-1995), lemme state the obvious. It's hard to take this "hippified conglomerate" that seriously. My best advice. Try not to be a critic and just enjoy the ride. For me personally, that's an exceptionally difficult proposition. It's like purposely trying to play down to the level of competition on the dome hockey table. Not gonna happen. But I'll give it a slap-shot, or as I like to call it... LASER!
Jenn D. once did a Macarena dance with improvised lyrics.
Everybody's looking for Saf's laser. It's about effective as a dull razor. HEYYY, no more laser. Whaaa!
I had absolutely no desire to purchase the pay-per-view. I looked for a free livestream but to no avail. Having woken up and viewed the set list, allow me to qualify my decision... what a fucking relief! That first show was all late 60's. Ughh. It's the one specific era of the Dead that I've never even bothered to examine. I would've fallen asleep midway through the 1st set. Set One: Jam -> Truckin’, Uncle John’s Band, Alligator ->
Cumberland Blues, Born Cross-Eyed > Cream Puff War, Viola Lee Blues
Set Two: Cryptical Envelopment -> Dark Star -> St. Stephen ->
The Eleven -> Turn On Your Love Light -> Drums/Space -> What's
Become Of The Baby -> The Other One - > Morning Dew
Encore: Casey Jones
With the exception of the Europe 72 vibe, I'm exclusively a fan of 1985-1990 with an extreme emphasis on 1989-90. Every once in a blue moon, I'll listen to a bootleg from '92 - '94. Just for kicks as it sometimes evokes fond memories.
My point --- even if you're only a nominal or "poser fan" (I call them Ped-Heads, which loosely translates to footheads), I don't think it takes a genius to figure out the direction the band's striving for.
Captain obvious here at the podium. My hunch is the Dead are going for a "retrospect-style, historical approach" journey through the decades. Not a bad idea. Probably the way I'd frame the next 4 shows. Kick it off with the old and venture forward (kinda like Hillary).
So onto night #2. If you're big on the early 70's, 1st set Jack Straw openers and Deal closers. Fill in the cracks with a Brown-eyed Women. Second set China > Rider openers and Sugar Magnolia closers, I think night #2 in Santa Clara is for you. I'll predict a Brokedown encore in advance. Maybe throw in an Attics... although the vocals could get scary. I'd include an Eyes > Estimated... just because it's California and Weir's "Huck-Finn cut-off Levi's jean shorts" seem like a good fit for a few more higher pitched shrieks than are customarily delivered. This show will hopefully be stronger than the 1st concert and set forth some greater expectations before heading toward the mid-west.
So we're likely destined to hear late 70's, early 80's Dead on the first night in Chicago. It literally cries out for a sweaty, extended Shakedown Street. That's your obvious choice. Definitely a bad disco kinda night. Maybe Help-Slip-Franklin's for the second set.
The 4th of July should be designated for the "In the Dark" late 80's material. From an independence day, musical perspective, this would seem ideal. Because it's the time frame that truly energized and rejuvenated the band. Garcia's recovering from his coma and it's literally the epitome of "freedom rock." If I had to pick any of the 5 shows to attend, this would be the one. Duhhh... once again, stating the obvious. Touch of Grey opener. Second set maybe go with a Scarlet-Fire opener. Hell, you gotta throw it in somewhere in this 5 show mini-tour. Close it out with Throwing Stones > Not Fade Away. And I'll invoke the predictable U.S. Blues encore since it's the 4th. Fireworks all over the place.
And then the final night at Soldier Field would by definition likely scare the living defecation out of my intestines (both large and small). Seriously, if my hunches are accurate, the final send off could be a tinny, screeching celebration of Vince Welnick and the Bruce Hornsby waltzing accordion-era. Ouch. Not the way I'd choose to close things out, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Especially if you're not willing to pay for tickets.
I suppose I could piece together some actual real-world, set list predictions. Oh what the fuck. It's my blog. I'm gonna give it a shot. Not like anybody actually reads my shit. Well, except NFL security headquarters in Manhattan and Texas. Maybe some disgruntled employees in the FCC.
Even though Jerry's gone, I'll think they'll still uphold the standard Bobby > Jerry > Bobby > Jerry > Bobby song opener progression. Here we go!
Night #2 - Levi's Stadium
Bertha, Jack Straw, Dire Wolf or Sugaree, Me & My Uncle > Big River, Brown-Eyed Women, Let it Grow
Shakedown, Minglewood, FOTD, Looks Like Rain, Tom Thumb's Blues, Lazy Lightning > Supplication jam, Birdsong > Promised Land
Help > Slipknot > Franklin's Tower, Lost Sailor > Saint of Circumstance > Drumz > Wharf Rat > Around
Encore: Johnny B. Goode Night #2 - Soldier Field (they'll keep this show as "tight" as they can)
Bucket > Touch of Grey (in honor of the Bucket > Shakedown opener from my all-time favorite show in 1991, coincidentally at Soldier Field) , Rooster, Cassidy, Tennessee Jed, Saturday Night
Cold Rain & Snow > Greatest Story followed by who knows what. Go old school and then throw in some of the weaker mid-90's material towards the end of the 1st set.
It's Sunday, so you know... Samson followed by your guess is good as mine. Maybe add a Hornsby tune. I wouldn't be surprised to hear "Long Way to go Home" --- one of Vince's better offerings. Definitely a night for a sloppy Gimme Some Lovin and a soulful rendition of Standing on the Moon. Finish it out with Bobby screeching badly on a Midnight Hour cover. I'd expect to see some special guests show up on stage for the 2nd and 3rd nights. A couple Phish tunes would likely infuriate the masses, but I think it would be cool. But that's just me. I like surprises.
Another thought that just came to me: how about devote the final night EXCLUSIVELY to cover songs? The Dead have a shitload of them. Some excellent, some tolerable, some atrocious. That would be a novel way to end the journey. Kinda on a lighter note but still relatively inspired and unique. Seriously, there's no way whatsoever to even remotely pull off a Cornell 77 or Alpine 89. Why not just have a good time with it and give the "super-hippies" something silly to endlessly jabber about on the internet? Yep, just cover tunes. Think about it.
I've often been asked, "Saf, what's your favorite Dead song?" My answer has ALWAYS been the same. It's that precise moment when I get hit with the opening chords of the song I least expect to hear. With a few exceptions of course --- Walkin' Blues, Wave to the Wind, Women are Smarter... not sure why, but the Dead play some really poor tunes that start with the letter "W." With one big exception --- We Bid you Goodnight. That would be a super cool encore but I won't hold my breath.
Encore: Box of Rain (Phil should be the one who terminates this whole shindig).
So those are my general predictions. Please know that I'm not obsessed with these shows. Not like trying to prevent a dominipede, the next potential 9/11. I just wanted to throw out some scattered projections as they entered my mind. I figure something along the way will come to fruition. I spent too many years analyzing the Dead to not have a little insight. Way too much time. Was it time well spent? Probably not.
I rarely acknowledge human beings but this blog is dedicated to the unusual choice of Fuzz! His social media post got me to thinking about it. See you in Chicago. Gigi and I will be the ones out front with our fingers in the air and a sign that says God knows what. We booked a hotel 3 miles up the road for Thursday night. But not for Friday or Saturday. We just gonna wing it and see what happens.
