Monday Morning Briefing

To borrow from Monty Python, And now for something completely different

Let’s skip over Trump, tariffs, temper-tantrums from the left, and other terrors, turmoil, and tumult of the moment. Because I need a break. Last week was my fifth week in a row on the road for the entire week, and I right now I can’t even remember where I’ve been. I need to have a stern talking-to with my scheduler, which I will do tomorrow morning when I look at him in the mirror while I am shaving. In the meantime, if you need a new action figure for the next gift-giving occasion, look no further:

(The is just a prototype; I’m going to work up another one with some proper grilling accessories.)

Anyway, the last stop on my five weeks of road-warrioring (to reach for a dubious present participle) was going behind enemy lines at the University of Colorado at Boulder for the first time since Covid, and boy, if RFK Jr. knew how bad is the spread of acute Trump Derangement Syndrome there he’d double the quarantine. (I used to taunt Boulder audiences by saying the greenbelt around the city, erected for environmental “quality of life” purposes, helps conservatives enforce the quarantine against liberals trying to escape.) The annual Conference on World Affairs runs the gamut from left to far left, with me almost alone brought on for comic relief.

Would you believe the mostly baby boomer audience of old hippies still does the snapping fingers thing when they hear something they really like? I thought that went out with single nose-piercings.

In any case, I had fun harshing their mellow with an introduction on one panel (a panel that matched me with three leftists, which meant I had them outnumbered) by noting that while I am a board-certified card carrying member of the VRWC (Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy), I had also attended 65 Grateful Dead concerts. This brought a smattering of applause from the audience for some reason. Which I promptly ruined.

“Of course, I attended a lot of those with my graduate school classmate . . . John Eastman!”

Stone cold silence.

“In fact one time I had to loan him a tie-dye t-shirt because he forgot to bring one, and as you know you can’t be admitted to the show without one.”

More stone cold silence, and anxious looks.

Last month in Dallas. . .

Actually I lost count of how many Dead shows I took in, but 65 sounds plausible.

But lately when I am briefly home I have been unwinding by watching some old Midnight Special episodes that are now available on YouTube. I used to stay up late with friends on weekends back in the 1970s, and I lighted on an episode from 1974 featuring Genesis when Peter Gabriel was at his absolute peak weirdness. And the episode was hosted by the Steve Miller Band, and although they offered up a pretty good version of “Space Cowboy,” there was still no explanation offered about “the pompatus of love.” So the mystery continues.

In any case, here’s “Watcher of the Skies” from that long ago moment (and run away now if you are a prog-rock hater like Joseph Bottum):

They also played “The Musical Box,” but I won’t inflict further torture on you prog-haters out there. (Click the link if you want to see it.)

But I can’t resist adding the Phish cover of “Watcher of the Skies” at the induction of Genesis into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame back in 2010:

Now, if you’re still here, how about some memes to get your week started: