Saturday, September 12, 2009


From Matt Goldberg's article "Feel Like a Stranger: Why I Put on a Skirt for the Grateful Dead," in the Summer 1999 issue of Hermenaut magazine:

During the London shows at Wembley, at the end of October that year, The Family spent each intermission in a beer-splattered, garishly lit concrete stairwell, sitting in a circle with the new recruits from our student body, eating prayed-over orange slices, holding hands, and engaging in a sort of slow and subtle group massage.

Wembley crowds the head with associations: crumby (Holden, acne, Stradlater), crumbly (the topping of the coffee cake mix that comes with a plastic "mixing" bag in the box), Dombey (Dickens), Wimbledon, Good King Wenceslas, Wallace & Gromit, and the entire British rail system of the late-1980s (putt-putt jitneys churning acrid smoke).

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