Dear Ask a Dead,
My daughter, who I’m proud to say is a second-generation tie-dyer, has a boy friend I’m going to call “Really Stupid.” He was over for dinner — or “wasting oxygen,” as my husband likes to say — and announced that he and my daughter had been to a Trump rally. I was disgusted. Not that I’m political, but Trump’s bully vibe and comments about women and immigrants aren’t in line with a rainbow-loving gal like me. Anyway, Really Stupid says he’s going to vote for Trump and he expects my daughter to do the same. When I started to list my problems with Trump, they started to sing the chorus of “Friend of the Devil” at me! You know: “A friend of the devil is a friend of mine.” I had to excuse myself and throw up. Any advice on swaying her? — Debbi, Newton, Mass.
Say what you want about Clinton, Obama, JFK, Reagan, Bush – but they all looked good in power blue suits. Can you imagine Cruz or Trump on a stamp? Would you lick that thing?
The argument, however, about not looking presidential doesn’t really work with Trump, since he looks like a clown school escapee but still leads in the polls. So you need a strong moral point that strikes your daughter to the core.
Luckily, I have one. Here:
Once there was a man from the magical-sounding land of La Corñuna, Spain, which obviously is in Spain, not in America. And that means this gentle soul — who loved music and was named Jose Ramon Garcia — was not American. But he came to this country and was welcomed here. He met a girl with Irish and Swedish DNA coursing through her veins. And together they had a SON named Jerome, who grew into THE man among men known to all as JERRY GARCIA.
Think about this bad trip: If Trump or Cruz or Rubio had been president in 1919 with their immigrant-hating vibes, life as we know it wouldn’t be life as we know it. Jose Ramon might have stayed in wherever he was. And that means… well a whole chain of events leading to THIS VERY COLUMN AT THIS MOMENT IN TIME would never have happened.
I know. Take a minute to chill. Go ahead. Vape.
And that’s why the Nation must avoid Trump — and Cruz and Rubio — like the plague. They could be keeping out the next musical deity. Or the father of the next musical deity. And that would be the mother of all bummers.
Once your daughter hears this story, she’ll realize the error of her ways with Trump and maybe even Really Stupid. Good luck.
Dear Ask a Deadhead,
Who is Drake? What is “Hotline Bling?” And Why? — Toby, Bongville, South Stonerlinia
As longtime readers know, Dear Ask a Dead views himself as humble servant on a mission to help the greatest Nation within the greatest nation. I’m proud many of our citizens don’t know what twerking is, use cellphones with no screens, and still listen to TDK 120 minute jams. I know you, riders! Your priorities are beautiful! And Toby from Bongville — great to hear from you again — you are not alone in your confusion.
In fact, when I got the first Drake question a few months ago, I was, like, who?
Then I was like, what?
And then, I thought, this is the unhighest moment in the history of the column. How can I explain something I don’t understand?
But then I sucked it up and got online and I also talked to my sister’s 15 year-old. So I actually know the answer to this question now.
In the world outside of Bongville, Drake is a hugely popular Canadian singer/rapper who dances like a nerd, abuses auto tune and has obviously never heard “China Cat/I Know You Rider” in his life. His key talent seems to be being handsome.
“Hotline Bling” is self-pitying song in which Drake whines the whole time about a girl who doesn’t call him anymore. And can you blame her? In the video, which people seem to love for some reason, the guy’s moves are beyond LAME.
And Ask a Deadhead should know. He has seen decades of hippie dancing.
As for why? I’m gonna have to vape on that.