My friend on the train car turns to me and loudly wonders, “Why do these people think this is cool? Jerry Garcia is dead!” The mob would point to the shirtless Trustafarian torso and say that Jerry still lives in “our hearts.” A noble concept, but Ticketmaster doesn’t accept love as currency. The Jerry impersonator from Half Baked was waylaid with prior Independence Day plans. A Jerry hologram was planned, but couldn’t be properly brought to fake life in real time. During intermission, the field will split open and he’ll ascend in a floating mausoleum, wax mannequin covered in tie-die, exhumation costs covered by the largesse of Ben and Jerry. On most Sundays, the Grateful Dead are my favorite rock band of all-time, but this seems destined for pure farce-a Necrophiliac spectacle where the hallucinogenic ashes of Saint Jerry spike the Fourth of July fireworks. Ask me why I’m here and I can only give you elliptical answers. This is the exit for Chicago’s Soldier Field, site of “Fare Thee Well,” the last three shows for the band formerly known as The Grateful Dead. We’re clacking and lurching on a Red Line car to the Roosevelt stop.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |