Grateful Dead

Wonder if that's synchronicity at work? First post disappeared into the ether. I checked to be sure. Rewrote it, posted it again. Oh, well, it's the thought that counts....

the pickins' are slim this time of year! After the abundant April, what do we have? a show or two in May, France, 7/02's cool, but he's not a big fan. Yale bowl? Meh. There's some sweetness in August, but things don't pick up again until Keith hits town. That's a loooong time between celebrations - I'd be cranky, too.I'll be listening 6/21.

Maybe this will help me lighten up about Doc's dark passage... and perhaps let him know he's well-loved and we're just gonna wait to hear from him again. So after the usual preliminaries, Doc promises to send his favorite GD shows, best sound only (my request) from 67 to 74 (my request, again). And I like physical CDs so I can file 'em in chrono order on my live GD shelves. Geez, that's asking a lot, but Doc explained that his receipt of this music dedicated him to lifelong sharing without return favors. There's a Deadhead. One day a box arrives and it contains like 60-70 shows and nearly 100 CD-Rs. I almost had to strap on an adult diaper. In time, my ears get suspicious and we find that Doc has sent us 100 discs of MP3 files! Not high-rez flac, MP3s. So I call him and give him a good-natured "How could you???" He said, "Your ears can't tell." I said, "Why do you think I'm on the phone??" We laughed over it. And he promised to "make good." (Can you imagine how much work his first batch took, and what an ungrateful skunk in Colorado sounds like?) So, just based on his generosity, I obtain a pretty expensive, large-format B&W print of Pigpen in his overalls, playing harp, with Bobby in the shadows behind him taken by my photog friend, Larry Hulst, who's shot every rocker and blues-er since he came back from 'Nam in 1969. I roll it up, pack it in a triangular, not tubular, mailer and ship it off. Phone rings. It's Doc. Was that print expensive? he asks. Kinda, why? I ask. Cuz it arrived damaged, you shoulda used a thick round mailer, he said in a factual tone. Goddamn, so sorry, let me send you another, I say. Oh no, it's Pigpen and a little damage makes it even better, he said. So we're even in some weird karmic way, both having fumbled it slightly. Many months later, my listening buddy, Steve-o, and I are at his cabin in the foothills of the Rockies, absorbing yet another prime DaP. "Guess we'll never hear from the Doc again, eh?" We agree. Just a few days later, a small pkg arrives in the mail. It's a hard drive with 100 GD shows in high-res flac files, with tons of Freddie, BB and Albert King (Doc knows I love the three Kings), plus Muddy Waters; the thing is packed, all in high-rez files. The moral of the story: Doc always comes through, even for idiotic strangers like me. So tonight I'm sayin', Come on, baby, you're gonna pull through the darkness. You're gonna regain your coffee-fueled "Good Morning Rockers" attitude and our love and support is going to reach you and ease your passage back to the bright sunshine. I just hope you don't notice a couple of hot tears streakin' down my face right now.

the pickins' are slim this time of year! After the abundant April, what do we have? a show or two in May, France, 7/02's cool, but he's not a big fan. Yale bowl? Meh. There's some sweetness in August, but things don't pick up again until Keith hits town. That's a loooong time between celebrations - I'd be cranky, too.I'll be listening 6/21.

Maybe this will help me lighten up about Doc's dark passage... and perhaps let him know he's well-loved and we're just gonna wait to hear from him again. So after the usual preliminaries, Doc promises to send his favorite GD shows, best sound only (my request) from 67 to 74 (my request, again). And I like physical CDs so I can file 'em in chrono order on my live GD shelves. Geez, that's asking a lot, but Doc explained that his receipt of this music dedicated him to lifelong sharing without return favors. There's a Deadhead. One day a box arrives and it contains like 60-70 shows and nearly 100 CD-Rs. I almost had to strap on an adult diaper. In time, my ears get suspicious and we find that Doc has sent us 100 discs of MP3 files! Not high-rez flac, MP3s. So I call him and give him a good-natured "How could you???" He said, "Your ears can't tell." I said, "Why do you think I'm on the phone??" We laughed over it. And he promised to "make good." (Can you imagine how much work his first batch took, and what an ungrateful skunk in Colorado sounds like?) So, just based on his generosity, I obtain a pretty expensive, large-format B&W print of Pigpen in his overalls, playing harp, with Bobby in the shadows behind him taken by my photog friend, Larry Hulst, who's shot every rocker and blues-er since he came back from 'Nam in 1969. I roll it up, pack it in a triangular, not tubular, mailer and ship it off. Phone rings. It's Doc. Was that print expensive? he asks. Kinda, why? I ask. Cuz it arrived damaged, you shoulda used a thick round mailer, he said in a factual tone. Goddamn, so sorry, let me send you another, I say. Oh no, it's Pigpen and a little damage makes it even better, he said. So we're even in some weird karmic way, both having fumbled it slightly. Many months later, my listening buddy, Steve-o, and I are at his cabin in the foothills of the Rockies, absorbing yet another prime DaP. "Guess we'll never hear from the Doc again, eh?" We agree. Just a few days later, a small pkg arrives in the mail. It's a hard drive with 100 GD shows in high-res flac files, with tons of Freddie, BB and Albert King (Doc knows I love the three Kings), plus Muddy Waters; the thing is packed, all in high-rez files. The moral of the story: Doc always comes through, even for idiotic strangers like me. So tonight I'm sayin', Come on, baby, you're gonna pull through the darkness. You're gonna regain your coffee-fueled "Good Morning Rockers" attitude and our love and support is going to reach you and ease your passage back to the bright sunshine. I just hope you don't notice a couple of hot tears streakin' down my face right now.

Maybe this will help me lighten up about Doc's dark passage... and perhaps let him know he's well-loved and we're just gonna wait to hear from him again. So after the usual preliminaries, Doc promises to send his favorite GD shows, best sound only (my request) from 67 to 74 (my request, again). And I like physical CDs so I can file 'em in chrono order on my live GD shelves. Geez, that's asking a lot, but Doc explained that his receipt of this music dedicated him to lifelong sharing without return favors. There's a Deadhead. One day a box arrives and it contains like 60-70 shows and nearly 100 CD-Rs. I almost had to strap on an adult diaper. In time, my ears get suspicious and we find that Doc has sent us 100 discs of MP3 files! Not high-rez flac, MP3s. So I call him and give him a good-natured "How could you???" He said, "Your ears can't tell." I said, "Why do you think I'm on the phone??" We laughed over it. And he promised to "make good." (Can you imagine how much work his first batch took, and what an ungrateful skunk in Colorado sounds like?) So, just based on his generosity, I obtain a pretty expensive, large-format B&W print of Pigpen in his overalls, playing harp, with Bobby in the shadows behind him taken by my photog friend, Larry Hulst, who's shot every rocker and blues-er since he came back from 'Nam in 1969. I roll it up, pack it in a triangular, not tubular, mailer and ship it off. Phone rings. It's Doc. Was that print expensive? he asks. Kinda, why? I ask. Cuz it arrived damaged, you shoulda used a thick round mailer, he said in a factual tone. Goddamn, so sorry, let me send you another, I say. Oh no, it's Pigpen and a little damage makes it even better, he said. So we're even in some weird karmic way, both having fumbled it slightly. Many months later, my listening buddy, Steve-o, and I are at his cabin in the foothills of the Rockies, absorbing yet another prime DaP. "Guess we'll never hear from the Doc again, eh?" We agree. Just a few days later, a small pkg arrives in the mail. It's a hard drive with 100 GD shows in high-res flac files, with tons of Freddie, BB and Albert King (Doc knows I love the three Kings), plus Muddy Waters; the thing is packed, all in high-rez files. The moral of the story: Doc always comes through, even for idiotic strangers like me. So tonight I'm sayin', Come on, baby, you're gonna pull through the darkness. You're gonna regain your coffee-fueled "Good Morning Rockers" attitude and our love and support is going to reach you and ease your passage back to the bright sunshine. I just hope you don't notice a couple of hot tears streakin' down my face right now.

the pickins' are slim this time of year! After the abundant April, what do we have? a show or two in May, France, 7/02's cool, but he's not a big fan. Yale bowl? Meh. There's some sweetness in August, but things don't pick up again until Keith hits town. That's a loooong time between celebrations - I'd be cranky, too.I'll be listening 6/21.

Maybe this will help me lighten up about Doc's dark passage... and perhaps let him know he's well-loved and we're just gonna wait to hear from him again. So after the usual preliminaries, Doc promises to send his favorite GD shows, best sound only (my request) from 67 to 74 (my request, again). And I like physical CDs so I can file 'em in chrono order on my live GD shelves. Geez, that's asking a lot, but Doc explained that his receipt of this music dedicated him to lifelong sharing without return favors. There's a Deadhead. One day a box arrives and it contains like 60-70 shows and nearly 100 CD-Rs. I almost had to strap on an adult diaper. In time, my ears get suspicious and we find that Doc has sent us 100 discs of MP3 files! Not high-rez flac, MP3s. So I call him and give him a good-natured "How could you???" He said, "Your ears can't tell." I said, "Why do you think I'm on the phone??" We laughed over it. And he promised to "make good." (Can you imagine how much work his first batch took, and what an ungrateful skunk in Colorado sounds like?) So, just based on his generosity, I obtain a pretty expensive, large-format B&W print of Pigpen in his overalls, playing harp, with Bobby in the shadows behind him taken by my photog friend, Larry Hulst, who's shot every rocker and blues-er since he came back from 'Nam in 1969. I roll it up, pack it in a triangular, not tubular, mailer and ship it off. Phone rings. It's Doc. Was that print expensive? he asks. Kinda, why? I ask. Cuz it arrived damaged, you shoulda used a thick round mailer, he said in a factual tone. Goddamn, so sorry, let me send you another, I say. Oh no, it's Pigpen and a little damage makes it even better, he said. So we're even in some weird karmic way, both having fumbled it slightly. Many months later, my listening buddy, Steve-o, and I are at his cabin in the foothills of the Rockies, absorbing yet another prime DaP. "Guess we'll never hear from the Doc again, eh?" We agree. Just a few days later, a small pkg arrives in the mail. It's a hard drive with 100 GD shows in high-res flac files, with tons of Freddie, BB and Albert King (Doc knows I love the three Kings), plus Muddy Waters; the thing is packed, all in high-rez files. The moral of the story: Doc always comes through, even for idiotic strangers like me. So tonight I'm sayin', Come on, baby, you're gonna pull through the darkness. You're gonna regain your coffee-fueled "Good Morning Rockers" attitude and our love and support is going to reach you and ease your passage back to the bright sunshine. I just hope you don't notice a couple of hot tears streakin' down my face right now.

Maybe this will help me lighten up about Doc's dark passage... and perhaps let him know he's well-loved and we're just gonna wait to hear from him again. So after the usual preliminaries, Doc promises to send his favorite GD shows, best sound only (my request) from 67 to 74 (my request, again). And I like physical CDs so I can file 'em in chrono order on my live GD shelves. Geez, that's asking a lot, but Doc explained that his receipt of this music dedicated him to lifelong sharing without return favors. There's a Deadhead. One day a box arrives and it contains like 60-70 shows and nearly 100 CD-Rs. I almost had to strap on an adult diaper. In time, my ears get suspicious and we find that Doc has sent us 100 discs of MP3 files! Not high-rez flac, MP3s. So I call him and give him a good-natured "How could you???" He said, "Your ears can't tell." I said, "Why do you think I'm on the phone??" We laughed over it. And he promised to "make good." (Can you imagine how much work his first batch took, and what an ungrateful skunk in Colorado sounds like?) So, just based on his generosity, I obtain a pretty expensive, large-format B&W print of Pigpen in his overalls, playing harp, with Bobby in the shadows behind him taken by my photog friend, Larry Hulst, who's shot every rocker and blues-er since he came back from 'Nam in 1969. I roll it up, pack it in a triangular, not tubular, mailer and ship it off. Phone rings. It's Doc. Was that print expensive? he asks. Kinda, why? I ask. Cuz it arrived damaged, you shoulda used a thick round mailer, he said in a factual tone. Goddamn, so sorry, let me send you another, I say. Oh no, it's Pigpen and a little damage makes it even better, he said. So we're even in some weird karmic way, both having fumbled it slightly. Many months later, my listening buddy, Steve-o, and I are at his cabin in the foothills of the Rockies, absorbing yet another prime DaP. "Guess we'll never hear from the Doc again, eh?" We agree. Just a few days later, a small pkg arrives in the mail. It's a hard drive with 100 GD shows in high-res flac files, with tons of Freddie, BB and Albert King (Doc knows I love the three Kings), plus Muddy Waters; the thing is packed, all in high-rez files. The moral of the story: Doc always comes through, even for idiotic strangers like me. So tonight I'm sayin', Come on, baby, you're gonna pull through the darkness. You're gonna regain your coffee-fueled "Good Morning Rockers" attitude and our love and support is going to reach you and ease your passage back to the bright sunshine. I just hope you don't notice a couple of hot tears streakin' down my face right now.

the pickins' are slim this time of year! After the abundant April, what do we have? a show or two in May, France, 7/02's cool, but he's not a big fan. Yale bowl? Meh. There's some sweetness in August, but things don't pick up again until Keith hits town. That's a loooong time between celebrations - I'd be cranky, too.I'll be listening 6/21.