Kevin Riordan: A long, strange trip indeed

Eddie Munster's angry girlfriend took off in the Grateful Dead's tour bus and burned out the engine somewhere in Georgia.

Still with me?

Good. Because the saga of the vintage vehicle nicknamed Sugar Magnolia - now owned by Cherry Hill businessman Michael DeSimone - is a long, strange trip indeed.

A self-described collector of "weird" cars, DeSimone bought the 1965 bus last year from The Munsters actor Butch Patrick, more recently seen co-starring with Celebrity Rehab patient Jeff Conaway in a bizarre YouTube video.

Patrick sought $200,000 for Sugar Magnolia, which Munsters.com/bus.php claims "was used by the legendary Grateful Dead . . . [as] the party bus where the guys relaxed with their friends after a show." Other online stories, photos and blogs also describe Sugar Magnolia as a Grateful Dead tour vehicle.

Not entirely persuaded by this supposed provenance, DeSimone says he "paid far less" than the original asking price. He was more interested in the '60s and '70s concert posters adorning the interior, which he calls a good investment.

"I didn't really have a purpose for the bus when I bought it," he says. "And I still don't."

Eager to see for myself, I board the bus with my Deadhead pal Ted Marvel and get an instant contact high with history.

Amid the amazing posters (a topless Grace Slick?), groovy fabrics, and psychedelic knick-knacks, we're suddenly truckin' across America with a band of hippies. I can almost feel the return of the Irish Afro that once billowed around my head like a cloud. Or maybe I'm having another sort of flashback.

"It looks like my Grateful Dead fraternity in college. Everyone's room had these posters and tapestries, and that beat-up old velvet couch is perfect," says Ted, a 47-year-old Web developer who lives in Collingswood.

"The bus is a time capsule. When you walk in there, in your mind you can still see the haze hanging," says DeSimone, who's 54 and a Fleetwood Mac fan. "Even if there's no connection to the band."

Which seems entirely possible. "I'm dubious. I don't think so. I very much doubt it," says Dennis McNally, the Dead's longtime historian and official biographer (A Long Strange Trip: The Inside History of the Grateful Dead).

Noting he did not join the Dead organization until 1980, McNally nevertheless insists the band did not tour by bus. "They flew," he says by phone from San Francisco. "Their tour schedule demanded it. And so did their crew. They had too much equipment."

So I call up Patrick, a down-to-earth dude who says he was "satisfied 100 percent" that the bus was owned by a crew of sound technicians associated with the Dead. He bought it from a private owner in 1998.

"I was told they used it to transport the drugs and that after the shows it was a VIP lounge," he says. "There were 17 to 18 years worth of [audio] tapes inside, and a log book signed by all sorts of people, like Jimi Hendrix and Grace Slick."

The latter, alas, disappeared along with the girlfriend who blew the engine, says Patrick, 56. "I kept it intact," he adds. "I didn't sell it off in pieces. I'm glad it's found a good home."

Ted, who knows more than I about the Deadhead scene, theorizes the bus was most likely used by devoted fans to follow the band from town to town. It certainly feels like a shrine; "Steal Your Face" (the skull with the lightning bolt), turtles, dancing bears and other icons are everywhere.

Some of the posters are water-damaged and need restoration, says Lauren DeSimone Shippy, operations manager for DeSimone Group Inc.

Only 25, she loves the bus, too.

"I haven't met anyone who doesn't find this fascinating, even if they're not a Deadhead," she says. "It's like going to a museum."

Going back aboard for a final look, Ted and I notice a pair of Jerry Garcia-like glasses on a table, and an electric guitar leaning against a seat.

"I would love to think it's Phil Lesh's bass," Ted says.

I know what he means.

I'm totally jazzed I got to chat with Eddie Munster.