Los Angeles-based publishing house Rare Bird Books has issued  Might As Well, the debut novel by Relix editor-in-chief Dean Budnick. The book revisits the East Coast Grateful Dead scene and, in particular, a show at the Brendan Byrne Arena—later known as the Izod Center—in East Rutherford, N.J., where a Deadhead named Adam Katz was killed in a manner that remains an unsolved murder mystery.

“I was at that show on Oct. 14, 1989, and while I had no personal knowledge of what took place, that evening still resonates with me for many reasons,” Budnick explains. “I also think that, beyond the music, when one considers the scope of people who attended Grateful Dead shows back then, it was a fascinating moment of social and cultural history. I tried to capture all that in Might As Well, which presents the perspectives of seven individual concertgoers over the course of the evening. It’s all fiction, even the hypothetical tour during which the show takes place; although I did create setlists for every show leading up to the night in question. It’s not even supposed to replicate the Katz incident precisely—it was just inspired by it.

“However, as you’ll discover, it’s not as heavy-handed as that might suggest. Like the Dead scene itself, there is more than meets the ear, as the story also encompasses miracles and near misses, the killer and the kind, doses and duds, female Muppets, the Fairy Wing Guild, the stall sisterhood, the merits of Charles Bukowski and Marcel Proust, the connections between Full House and ALF, seat surfing, scurvy, setlist games, Schoolhouse Rock, Shakedown Street, tape trees, the Philsbury Doughboy, Three Bean Monty, crock-pots, counties, custies, dog liberation, DATs, Griffin Dunne films and fire dancing. After all, the circus is in town.

“Due to space considerations, the following excerpt presents only four of the characters. You’ll have to pick up the book to meet lot sage Bagel Bob, join Zeb’s frantic mission to score a ticket and travel with Robin as she flies solo.”

Today we share an excerpt, which originally appeared in our March issue…

***

Here’s a moment early on, in which Ted arrives, along with his wife, Rez, and younger sibling, Tommy.


TAPER TED

(All right, here we go. Into the parking lot. Now the real freak show begins. You’re not going to buy a T-shirt out here, are you, big bro?)

“I don’t think so. Why?”

(I remember a couple of years ago when all you wore were those bootleg Dead T-shirts. You were buying all your clothes in parking lots. My vicarious embarrassment induced a mild case of aphasia.)

“Well you’ll be happy to know those shirts don’t interest me much these days. Back then it meant something. Those shirts were made by kids trying to support their tours. Nowadays there are plenty of tie-dye corporations out here getting rich.”

(If you say so.)

“Consider it said.”

(And what do they call the area with the makeshift little flea market where everyone rolls out their ratty little tapestries and sells kind veggie burritos laced with bacteria and other pathogens? It’s named after a song right? Shitstorm Street? Shitshow Street? I’m pretty sure the word shit is in there to reference the dysentery to follow.)

“Shakedown Street. How many shows have you been to?”

(I don’t know. Nine? Ten? You should know. You were the one who took me to all of them. Come on, you can remember how many times the Dead played ‘Hully Gully’ but you can’t recall how many times you’ve taken your only brother to see this band?)

“Well they only pulled the ‘Hully Gully’ once. Netherlands ‘81. Killer show. That night they also busted out ‘Lovelight’ and ‘Gloria.’ 10/16/81. Bobby’s birthday. That’s the only reason I can think of why they broke out both of those. The tragic story of it all is that Rez and I had thought about hitting some of those Europe shows for a belated honeymoon but I lucked into a promotion and couldn’t leave…”

(Right, right.)

“Shame on me. The Europeans understand work-life balance. When you ask an American what he does, he talks about his job, while a European will talk about his hobbies, his passions. I could have spent two perfectly lovely weeks mesmerizing strangers with a spirited challenge to the endemic mislabeling of the ‘Mind Left Body Jam.’ Perhaps I’d open up the discussion to include ‘Spanish Jam’ although that’s a little on the nose for me…Tom? Tommy? You have nothing snide to say about any of that?”

(Sorry Ted, but as surprising as this sounds, I just wasn’t listening to you. I was distracted by this guy who was yelling, ‘How much would you pay for an exotic animal? How much would you pay for an exotic animal?’ What the hell was that?)

“I don’t know, he just does it.”

(You know him?)

(Ted and I have heard him do that before. Not this tour but last summer, I think.)

(And what does he mean?)

“Mean?”

(Tommy, I don’t think he means anything. He’s just producing syllables, talking to hear himself talk.)

(Talking to hear himself talk? About the strike price for an exotic animal? Did you ever check it out?)

“Why should we?”

(Why should you? I don’t know but if I were walking around a parking lot and someone asked me how much I’d pay for an exotic animal, at the very least I’d name my price. I’d do it right now but I lost the guy. I had him in my sights and then he disappeared. I can’t hear him anymore, either. With every single car blasting a different Grateful Dead tape, it’s all cacophony.”

“Cacophony?”

(Hey, I have a college degree. It came fully equipped with vocabulary. So did my medical degree for that matter. My competence might well surprise you.)

“That’s a matter of contention. As for the exotic animal guy, I’ve run into him and plenty of others like him who are on their own trip or are just doing it to get attention. I prefer to stay in my own lane and let them pass. Your problem, little brother, is you need to get in some more shows.”

(Get in some more shows? Do you even hear yourself? Get in some more shows? You make it sound like it’s a chore or something. I mean, it is for me but you shouldn’t talk like that. As if there’s some intrinsic value to attending 20 or 30 more Grateful Dead concerts a year beyond just hanging a few more notches on your belt. Of course maybe that explains why you’re here, you could use a few more notches on your belt. Speaking as your doctor, that expanding waistline of yours is a matter of concern.)

“My future doctor.”

(I wouldn’t be your future doctor if you gave me the proper time of day for a consultation.)

“I’m not going to treat you as my doctor and I’m not going to refer to you as my doctor until you complete your residency. In fact, I’m not going to call you doctor at all.”

(That is a common faux pas. At this point in my medical career I have definitively earned the proper title of doctor.)

“Is that true? I’m asking the Bloch-head next time I see him.”

(Justin Bloch. I’m never quite sure how to take it when I’m reminded that the chairman of our department is a Deadhead.)

“We are everywhere.”

---

Steven is a high school student on spring break from an area boarding school. This prep-school hippie, who is about to attend his first show, is en route with some of his friends.

STEVEN

(Hey, Steven, change the tape.)

‘‘Hmmmm?’’

(Change the tape.)

“Right, sorry. I was zoning.”

(Well, try not to zone so much when you’re driving.)

“Nate, man, I’m not driving.”

(Yeah, right. Okay, you can zone then but not until after you change the tape.)

(And put it in the case or my brother will kill me.)

“Okay, okay. So what do you want to hear?’’

(You’re up there. Whatever looks good to you.)

“Hey, Jason, what’s this show like? It looks pretty cool.”

(Come on, Steven, you know you can’t tell a tape from the setlist.)

Oh, yeah, right.

(No, that’s not necessarily true. Have you ever heard a bad ‘Dark Star?’)

“Yeah, have you?”

(Well okay, you may be right there. But you can’t tell with the other stuff. Besides some of the ‘Star’s are better than others.)

“But they’re all basically good.”

(None of them are basic; all of them are good.)

(And how is that show Steven has in his hand?)

(Hot.)

(Well then what are you yapping about?)

(I’m just keeping him on his toes.)

“Well I’m sitting down in here so it won’t do me much good.”

(Maybe I should direct my own foot to your ass and apply some force.)

(If that’s what gets you off…)

“Yeah, Jason, just ask. I can be permissive.”

(Nice vocab. But you know what I don’t understand?)

“Fractions?”

(How to properly apply deodorant?)

“The particulars of the baby-making process?”

(What chicken tastes like?)

“New Yorker cartoons?”

(New Yorker cartoons, really? What is this, AP after-school strivers club?)

(Hey, man, let Steven be Steven.)

(Well, that’s my point. I’m happy to let Steven be Steven, as long as you can do the same, Nate. Stevie’s a big boy. You don’t have to chime in for him.)

(I’m a lover not a chimer. We’re in this together. You’re either on the bus or you’re off the bus and all of us here are on the bus.)

(Huh? What bus? This is a Volvo 240.)

(Never mind Zack, just drive.)

---

This section introduces Randy, who will be working security at the venue. His car has broken down and he’s finally made his way to a service station.

RANDY


“No freaking way.”

(Sorry, Macho Man.)

“No freaking way.”

(That’s the best I can do for you, Macho.)

“Man, is that necessary?”

(The vehicle won’t run without a clutch, Macho. You’ll need a new one.)

“It’s not my car but that Macho crap, consider my balls already busted by the broken-ass Chevette I can barely fit into that your guy towed here, which already cost me 50 bucks.”

(I thought you said your name was Randy.)

“Yeah?”

(Well I figured you for a hero. You’re big enough to be a hero. Macho Man Randy Savage all the way.)

“I don’t know anything about that.”

(You don’t know if you’re a hero? Who are you, King Kong Bundy?)

“I’m just a kid who’s late for work. My coach pulled a few strings and if I don’t make it on time, he’s going to be pissed. I’ll be cut during spring practice and never play next season.”

(Where do you play?)

“Morristown Tech.”

(So are you a hero or a villain?)

“Are you a hero or a villain?”

(It’s impolite to answer a question with a question but I am clearly a hero. Not to brag, but we’re talking superhero. You see this Citgo logo on my shirt? I’ve got pyramid power. What do you got?)

“A dick friend who let me borrow his car.”

(Well be a hero, Macho Man. Pony up the $500 for him.)

“I’m not ponying jack.”

(I’m Sal, not Jack. Where are you headed anyhow?)

“I’m working in the lot over at the Grateful Dead show tonight.”

(Security?)

“Yeah.”

(Then you are the villain.)

“Nah, I’m just there to do whatever I’m told for a few days.”

(Like keeping nitrous tanks out of the parking lot?)

“If that’s what they ask me to do.”

(Like I said, you are the villain. You know what my attitude is toward nitrous oxide? I follow Nancy Reagan’s campaign leadership and I just say NO. Get it, I just say N-O.)

“I get it, but NO is actually the chemical formula for nitric oxide. I believe you’re thinking of N20 which is the formula for nitrous oxide, laughing gas.”

(Really?)

“Not up for debate. It’s an oxide of nitrogen.”

(No, do you really need to be such a prick? I was making a joke.)

“What do you want from me, I’m a chemistry major.”

(Ahhh, a six-foot-two-inch science nerd.)

“Six-three. So you think nitrous tanks are heroic?”

(What can I tell you, I like to laugh. I once saw Nancy Reagan on an episode of Different Strokes, although that didn’t make me laugh.)

“And what’s all this with the heroes and villains?”

(Don’t you watch the WWF? Everybody’s a hero or a villain.)

“Nah. I’m just a kid on scholarship hoping to make his coach happy and earn a little scratch to take his girl out next weekend. I’m supposed to be there at five and the goddamn clock is ticking.”

(I’ll tell you what, if you promise to act like a hero, I’ll give you a ride over there on my bike. I’m headed out in 30 minutes.)

“I don’t have the $500.”

(Well, make sure your buddy has it in the morning. And don’t Iron Sheik me over there if you see me enjoying a balloon or having a puff.)

“Now why would I do that?”

---

Jumping ahead to a bit later in the book, in this sequence, three-year-old Stella makes the rounds with her mom out in the hallway during setbreak.


STELLA BLUE


“Mommy!”

(What, Stella?)

“Come here. Down here. Bend down.”

(What, honey?)

“It’s like the carnival in here.”

(I know what you mean. That’s why I like it. The people are all wearing clothes with pretty colors and smiling and dancing. I agree with you, Stell.)

“No, Mommy, it’s like the carnival because it’s like that time you and I went to the carnival and we were walking around and I couldn’t see anything because everyone was too tall.”

(Oh. Right. Would you like me to pick you up?)

“Mommy, I’m not a baby.”

(Okay, then would you like to sit on my shoulders? Only big girls do that because babies don’t have strong enough backbones so they would fall off their mommies onto the floor and splatter.)

“Mommy!”

(Sorry, Stell Belle, your mother is spending too much time with Aunt Jenny. So, what do you say, up on my shoulders? Let me carry your load.)

“Okay.”

(Alright. Up we go, one-two-three-uhhh. Whoa, you’re getting heavy, Stell. I need to talk to Grammy about sneaking you those Keebler Magic Middles when you’re at her place.)

“I like the elves.”

(They are tasty, that’s for sure. I don’t know how many of them they grind up into each cookie to mix with that gooey chocolate center, but I like my Keebler Magic Middles extra elfy.)

“Mommmmeeee!”

(Sorry, sorry. I won’t blame Aunt Jenny for that one. Okay, let’s go for a walk. Now, remember, if you want me to turn, ask nicely, don’t pull on my hair like I’m a horsie and those are the reins.)

“I know, Mommy. Hey, look over there. Look at all the people. What’s that?”

(Oh, they’re all standing around the water fountain. They’re hot and sweaty, so they want to drink some nice healthy water.)

“No, not the water fountain, over there.”

(Oh, yeah, that’s the line for the bathroom…Do you have to go, Stella?)

“Okay.”

(Yeah, I was afraid to ask. Not do you want to go but do you really have to? If you do, I’ll stand in line with you and we can wait. But if you can hold it in, we should probably go later when the line’s not so long.)

“I can wait, Mommy.”

(Good thinking Stella, we’ll go later.)

“No, Mommy, I can wait in line.”

(Because you need to or because you want to?)

“I want to because I need to.”

(Well, I can’t argue with that. Come on, let’s go. Let me put you down.)

“No, Mommy, I want to stay up here.”

(You want to stay on my shoulders?)

“Uh-huh.”

(Okay, fine, here we go.)

(Beautiful child.)

(Thank you… Did you hear that Stella?)

“That man had big eyes.”

(You’re right, he did.)

(Remember jazz isn’t dead; it just smells funny!)

“I think she smells funny.”

(Stella!)

“Everyone here smells a little funny.”

(And what do you think about that?)

“It’s funny.”

(What else do you think?)

“Are juice bags bad?”

(Juice bags? I’m not quite sure what you mean. Is that like a juice box?)

“No, a juice bag. A man over there yelled at his friend and told him not to be such a juice bag.”

(Well—haaa—I’m not so sure, I… Hold that thought, honey. Oh my god. Megan! Megan! Stella, can I put you down for a minute? Mommy sees an old friend of hers.)

“No, Mommy, I want to go to the bathroom.”

(Come on, Stella, take my hand. We’ll come back to the bathroom in a minute. Mommy wants to see her friend. Megan! Megan! Come on, Stella, let’s walk a little faster.)

“I can’t, Mommy.”

(Megan! Megan! MEGAN!)

(Alison? Alison!)

(Megan! My god Megan! It’s been like forever. How are you?)

“Mommy!”

(Megan, this is my daughter, Stella. Stella, give Aunt Megan a hug.)

“I don’t want to. She smells super-duper funny.”

(Stella!)

(The kid reminds me of your old running buddy, Jenny. Do you still see her?)

(She’s here. In fact, she should be out here any minute now. Wow, it’s good to see you. What have you been up to?)

I don’t want to talk to Aunt Megan.

I want to go to the bathroom.

I’m going to run back and get in line…