Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Dark star.”

Right.

“The, uh, song’s not about an eclipse, though.”

What is Dark Star about?

“Usually about 20 minutes.”

Nice.

“That tune is actually perfect for a dyslexic.”

How so?

“If you mix the words up, it doesn’t make less sense.”

True. You enjoying the eclipse?

“It’s magical. You know when the guy pulls the rabbit out of his hat?”

Sure.

“This is better. Like, at least three times better.”

The Dead had some history with eclipses, didn’t they?

“You bet. Phil bought one in ’91. Crashed it in, uh, ’91.”

Everyone needs to stop making that joke.

“And, you know, Egypt.”

That’s what I was talking about. There was a lunar eclipse the last night while you guys were on.

“Right, yeah.”

Did you see it?

“Well, here’s the thing. Y’know those giant lights at rock concerts?”

Uh-huh.

“They’re generally pointed directly in the band’s eyes. Plus, we were too busy playing poorly.”

You did play poorly in Egypt.

“Oh, yeah. Well, you know, it was a big show. We pretty much had a rule about that.”

No “pretty much” about it.

“I remember having a band meeting on the plane ride over discussing how we were gonna fuck it up. And, uh, damnedest thing: Billy broke his own wrist right in front of us.”

That’s dedication.

“And then when we got to Egypt, uh, he stabbed four successive piano tuners.”

Billy’s pretty much the MVP of the trip.

“No ‘pretty much’ about it. He made us buy him a trophy.”

Any final thoughts on the eclipse?

“I need someone to help me up.”