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    marye
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    An excellent suggestion from Hal R., picking up on a thread in another topic: how did you get on the bus? What was that moment that left no room for doubt? Probably no two stories are the same, but they're all probably pretty interesting, so tell all here!

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  • marye
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    great story fluffhead!
    I especially agree about how frustrating the hit-or-miss quality of who gets it and who doesn't can get. But the WHERE HAS THIS BEEN ALL MY LIFE? moments do kinda make it all worthwhile.
  • fluffhead042
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    Great stories!!!! Here's mine!
    First it should be known I was born in 1983 and never got to see Jerry or The Grateful Dead live...I'm a modern day Deadhead- I drive a new minivan vs a VW bus and maintain a full time job/career but still catch shows as much as possible....I always thought "The Grateful Dead" was some sort of gothic, dark music and it just never piqued my interest. Ahhhh...ignorance-not always blissful...I grooved "The Doors" and mainstream classic rock primarily because my Dad did and went on listening to a variety of music (country, rap, rock, modern radio hits) until I believe 2004...I had experimented with psychedelics in CA after high school a handful of times but none of my trips involved music, usually just exploring, walking around, watching pixar movies (another story) all that good stuff-still good times of course...3 or 4 years later-after moving to AR-I heard about a music festival in Salem, MO called "Schwagstock" (held and founded by a GD Tribute band called "The Schwag") that presented an opportunity to revisit my post-high school "experiments"...so I went...I went to a couple of these festivals without even experiencing the music...just kinda showed up, got what I was seeking (usually staying in the tent watching it breathe) -still thinking the music was dark and gothic I went home and enjoyed the party favors there...NYE of 2005 I was waiting to meet a "friend" who said he'd be there after the show to take care of my "needs"...the show ran long and I found myself waiting for The Schwag to end the show so I could get what I wanted...already in a psychedelic state of mind I finally heard the Dead's tunes...it was the very end of the set when I showed up... I remember them playing "NFA", "casey jones", and I believe "one more saturday night" to close the set...I was quite shocked...these tunes were anything but "dark and gothic"!..quite to the contrary...I had a revelation then and there...I went online when I got home and ordered a DVD-"Truckin' up to Buffalo"...dosed myself...and put it in....the rest is history...WOW...Jerry's soul on Ship of Fools and Morning Dew brought tears to my eyes...the jams on Playin and Terrapin, the variety of sounds: blues (walkin blues), country, jazz, raw pschedelia (space), love songs (LLR) it was all there...it embodied everything i had always liked in music but it was all in one amazing band!!!...I watched it twice throughout that trip alone and was mesmerized both times...seeing Jerry and Brent playing back and forth during NFA had me smiling...goosebumps...the keys on Man Smart, Woman Smarter...ahhhhhh....I was thoroughly "ON THE BUS" after that....4-5 years have passed and I've got every Dick's Pick, every studio album/live release, every DVD, I'm a self-proclaimed "vine slut", and my now GF and I work at the Schwagstock festivals hosting a wine tasting-it's a blast (imagine a hippie wine tasting)...Dead tunes just don't get old to me-it's the improvisation, the love, the community, its a package...they've opened my mind up to soooo many other bands/sounds I would have otherwise never listened to (String Cheese Incident, Keller Williams, Widespread Panic, Yonder Mtn., New Monsoon, I could go on for pages)...I am forever GRATEFUL...I feel I would have seen the light at some point (all good things in all good time) but definitely have to give credit to "The Schwag" for officially turning me on. My only problem is that I can't understand how some folks don't FEEL this music-it borders on frustration but ultimately acceptance...I've attempted, successfully and unsuccessfully to turn others on and it's literally hit or miss-the "hits" make it all worthwhile though....The GD have changed my life...for the rest of my life...I never truly heard music...I merely listened to it...The GD cost me a relationship (thankfully)-and helped me to find my current love and soulmate-we also met through "The Schwag" indirectly and my current GF truly *feels* the music like I do, whereas with my EX every song was "that same ol' shit on again"...she just couldn't appreciate the improvisation or instrumental jams the way I do-every Playin' was the same ol' song...anyway, good riddance! I WILL listen to the GOGD for the rest of my life, it's just a shame it took so long for me to allow it into my life...I totally see my current GF and I 80 years old in our recliners and walkers smiling back and forth jaws ajar when Jerry catches a hot groove or laughing when Brent or Bob drop a F-bomb-it cracks me up ;) ...The Grateful Dead and the whole community has made me a better person, added a soundtrack to my life, and introduced me to the love of my life...I am certainly GRATEFUL for The Schwag and other GD tribute bands for keeping the vibe alive and for exposing younger people to the LOVE The Grateful Dead bring to your lives and ears. This music transcends time, age, sex, color, and creed and will continue to do so forever...there will always be torchbearers...it will never die...Jerry will always be with us. "not dead...just grateful" :) THANK YOU GRATEFUL DEAD!!!!! and THANK YOU DEAD TRIBUTES!!!! "In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside I will lay my head. Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul."
  • marye
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    ah
    the old days of vinyl and killer flu in college...
  • gratefaldean
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    The Bus
    I posted this a little while back when an archive post for the Europe 72 album popped up. I realized later that it was the best description I could think of that explained how all this happened for me. There's more, of course, but this definitely was the start... Freshman year in college, my buddies were off on a trip for the weekend. I'd come down with some killer flu-ish thing and had to opt out of the trip. I had been starting to get into the Dead at the time, Live/Dead and Skull and Roses were the two albums I had and the only two I'd ever heard. I liked them, but I was a long way from considering myself a Dead freak (old-school terminology) or even thinking of the Dead as one of my favorite bands. One of my departing friends dropped off his newly-acquired Europe '72 for me to convalesce with. This was a godsend, as it was a 3-album set, so I could stack it on the record changer and listen for a long time without having to move. I threw it on the record machine, plugged in my headphones, and collapsed into bed. Aside from bathroom trips and an ill-advised venture to the commons for food, I pretty much holed up in my room from Fri night to Sun morning, wracked with fever dreams and flipping the stack over whenever I could work up the energy. Somewhere along the 3rd or 4th listen to Jack Straw, everything became clear...you know, it clicked, I got it and everything else on the record and every other thing I'd heard from the GOGD. I was definitely in an altered state of mind from the fever (oddly, I thought at the time, not unlike tripping), but the musical infusion triggered an epiphany that weekend. A tranformative time for sure....I probably haven't been quite right since -- but I sure wasn't wrong. I get amused when I read the compilation-vs-full show debates that rage with every RT release right now. Compilations were all I had to go by back then, and without this one...well, I sure as hell wouldn't typing away this long boring reverie about my favorite Grateful Dead recording...Europe '72.
  • GR8FLPT
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    Thanks Toots!
    The bus came by & I got on... Where is really began for me was my sister (I call her Toots). Why, because we would go to these huge outdoor shows & we needs a way to find each other. I would yell TOOTS in the crowd. Since no one else would respond or look over it worked for years. Anyway it was in my room, She brought in a album what is now known as the Skull & Roses album. We listened to it a bit & put it away. I was more into Yes & Pink Floyd at the time. Then in '74 I stumbled across it again but this time I really got into it. Then i started to get into Working Mans Dead, American Beauty & Mars Hotel. This is all before my 1st show a Roosevelt Stadium. I was getting into it pretty much by now. Then Englishtown rolled on in. We road tripped their bought a little gas grill which I kept till a few years ago. NOw that was the icing in the cake. 155,000 people at that show!!! I waited all day & night for that Terrapin Encore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "No matter where you go, there you are..." Buckaroo Bonzai
  • Birdsong1969NJ
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    Thanks Mary
    It was quite the day. "Circle songs and sands of time, and seasons will end in tumbled rhyme, and little change, the wind and rain."
  • marye
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    GREAT stories
    thanks for telling 'em!
  • JackstrawfromC…
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    9/29 - 10/1 1989 Shoreline
    My first shows age 19. 6 of us pile into my toyota pick up and drive from Colorado straight to the Shoreline parking lot. To see Estimated Prophet in California on various hallucinagens with my friends whom we shared a trying drive to CA and back was just unreal. then we meet some very cool Heads from the area who led us up this hill .... sorta by the beach ... somewhere ... sorry very foggy .. memory terrible ... :-) to where a lot of people camp out and we hung out there for 3 days. That whole experience was when I knew I was on the bus and in the family. It was more than just going to a concert. I was a part of a whole environment. Great memories! "And I'll call down thunder and speak the same. My word fills the sky with flame. Might and glory gonna be my name and they gonna light my way."
  • Birdsong1969NJ
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    How I got on the Bus. By Birdsong1969NJ
    Well, this is a long time coming I guess. People around here that know me, know me through The Vineyard forum topic as I am an addicted regular. I saw my first live Grateful Dead show June 30th, 1985 out of necessity. I was 15 years old and had run away from home that May. I was living in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. I was a bus boy and lived in an apartment above a pharmacy on the main drag. I lied about my age to work, and attract roommates. Well. I was a stupid kid, and one afternoon I decided to try and shoplift a carton of Marlboros from the pharmacy downstairs. To make a long story longer, I got caught by the owner (who also owned the apartment upstairs…you see now how stupid I was!) trying to leave with the smokes under my shirt. He told me to stay put while he called the cops. I ran out the door WITH THE SMOKES! (This is important, as you will see later). Well I ran clear across town and hid in a cluster of bushes until way past sunset. I basically tiptoed back to my apartment, which was also the scene of the crime. I knocked on my door and a very pissed off roommate answered the door, as I started to step inside, he pushed me back out. I won’t tell you what he said to me except the fact that my belongings were in the dumpster in the back. Luckily my belongings consisted of a red frame Kelty backpack with a sleeping bag, and assorted summer cloths, OP shorts, Van Halen Tee-shirts, maybe one pair of tighty whities, a sleeping bag and a journal. I collected my belongings and took my remorseful ass to the beach to sleep. I had maybe $20.00 and could not go back to my busboy job to collect my tips in fear of getting busted by the local police, so I went to sleep hungry that night, but I sure did have a lot of smokes. I awoke the next morning probably more scared then I have ever been in my entire short life. I had no idea what I was going to do. I collected my things and started to walk towards the highway to hitch hike back to my parent’s house in Wilmington. I was going to give up my burst of freedom over stupidity….I deserved it. I walked about 15 minutes without a ride. I remember it being a hot dry day, which was uncommon for the Middle Atlantic States on June 30th. Humidity usually prevails, but there was almost like a hot Santa Anna wind. Finally a big hulk of an American gas-guzzling monstrosity pulled over. A guy with shaggy shoulder length hair and a woman whom I instantly presumed was either his sister or his girlfriend because they were dressed very similarly in some kind of very colorful Indian looking clothing. There was a scent in the car, that I never smelled before, but I would smell it a lot that day and on into the future. (I later learned that this smell was patchouli oil; a scent worn by road weary hippies to mask the smell of their natural “musk”). The back seat was full of shopping bags and two coolers, but they made room for me. They asked where I was going and I proceeded to tell them a lie of how I was just visiting some friends at the beach and hitching home. They told me they could only take me about 5 miles until we came to the highway, because they were going south, and me north. It seemed, as they were going camping so I asked. They laughed and said, “well sort of”. They told me that they were going to catch 3 Grateful Dead shows on the east coast and then they were driving to Ventura, California. I had heard of the Grateful Dead, but never gave them much of a listen. I was big time into David Lee Roth and Van Halen. They optimized what I wanted to be at the time, a hard rocking beach bumming party animal. I loved Van Halen. Then, fate stepped in. They decided to pull over to a Tasti Freeze to grab lunch. I was starving so I spent some of my limited funds on cheese fries. They ordered cheeseburgers without the meat, which created quite a stir amongst the teenage employees. They started talking about the Dead. I was very curious so I asked questions further while wiping cheese wiz off my face. They explained they made and sold some kind of vegetarian wrap at these shows to fund going to more shows. I asked what would ever possess then to see the same band in concert over and over again. It just did not make sense to me. They tried to explain Jerry and the music in combination with the community and acceptance. I still did not get it. I asked for the third time, why would you ever want to see the same songs over and over again? Finally the woman (who was the guys wife) said; “why don’t you come and see for yourself”. The said I could ride with them to Columbia Maryland and go to a place called Merriweather Post Pavilion. They also said that I would be able to find a ride up 95 no problem, as it was a straight shot from Columbia to Wilmington. I said OK. The truth was, I had nowhere else I felt I could go. I did not want to go home so this was it for me. We showed up at the Post in the early afternoon. They (sadly enough, I never remembered their names, gee maybe I could have found them on Facebook) said that I could leave my stuff with them and that I should go look for a ticket. I had not told them I had but $16. So I grabbed a pack of those ‘Boro’s” and went on my merry way. I walked around the rolling hills of the Post just checking people out. Everyone seemed to be in such a state of happiness, and were all in a hurry to do nothing. I remember thinking later that the lot seemed like a colony of technicolor ants, all scurrying with purpose. Show time approached, and I did not have a ticket. I was not really looking for one either, but I was growing more curious about this attraction inside the fence that all these thousands of people were here to see. I started walking around the parameter of the venue (and this next part I am not proud of, but like I said, I was a stupid kid) and I noticed these guys climbing the fence behind the concrete bathrooms. They were just climbing the fence and walking in. So I tclimbed the fence, and I seriously just walked right in. No security guards were even 100 feet from me. So, sorry boys, but I scammed ya outta $12.00 for a lawn seat. I walked around the lawn for a long while. There was that smell again! I remember seeing and feeling the anticipation in the crowd. I could just not help but feel that everyone was waiting for something really important to happen. I remember hay. I was thinking that this was such a strange thing walk on. I realized that this hay was creating an immense build up of dust between my toes and on my ankles. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of the dust! I had stopped to talk to this group of people sitting on a blanket. We were just smoking and chatting and laughing. I was really starting to have fun. In the midst of this chat up came a roar from the pavilion and the folks I was hanging with just dissipated from my existence. BAM! They were gone. They scattered like rats at the 34th Street Herald Square Subway Station when an N Train screeched in. At this point it was hard to know what was going on because everyone was jumping and screaming. Then suddenly, “On the day that I was born, my daddy sat down and cried!!!!” People started twirling, pointing triumphantly towards the sky, hugging, high fiving and were generally were absolutely captured by the moment. At this point I became somewhat intimated by what was going on around me. It was an experience that was completely foreign to me. It was quite a sight to see thousands of people grooving on the same thing but all being completely SO different at the same time. It was overwhelming to me, and I kind of had to back off a little bit. I went to the back left side where there was fresh air and trees and sat myself down against a tree, lit up an infamous Marlboro and proceeded to collect my thoughts. I just sat against that tree and watched it all happen for the entire first set. As the set wore on, I felt more at ease. These multitudes of people were revolving around this music. I watched group conversations, hackie sack circles, smoke outs, busts, wandering lost souls, a naked man, again, a bust, twirling, falling down, back rubs, more smoke, a deal, a jealous boyfriend, a chase, another bust (there’s that smell again!), rejoicing, uncontrollable laughter, a heavy make out session, scared preppy girls walking rapidly towards the exit, summersaults, juggling, piggyback rides, someone sleeping, and then I heard my first “We’ll be back in a little bit”, and it all came screeching to a halt! Funny though, I was feeling kind jealous that these people were so care free and were having so much fun. How was it possible that this music (which was barley audible all the way in the back) could create such an invigorating, soul-reviving scene where people just did not care about what anybody else thought? Well I decided to see for myself. I smoked another stolen butt, and made my way down the decimated hay stack, or lawn if you will and camped out along the fence separating the “hay” from the money seats. The sun had started to go down and I started to feel that anticipation rising thought the throngs of dusty deadheads (I had learned that was the name of these people). The darkness seemed to add a whole other dimension to this scene. It was hard to see where you were or who you were next to. Things were getting a very surreal feel to them. This scene was a little piece of irony of events forthcoming in my magical evening. Suddenly a skinny bald guy with a beard, no shirt, and some of those colorful Indian looking shorts with a fanny pack so full it almost looked like an old time life preserver stopped and sat next to me. He stared at me for a second before saying hello. He was very nice, a little strange, but nice. He kept staring off in different directions as we spoke. I told him briefly my story of the day, and how I was determined to see what made this scene tick. He asked me if I really wanted to know? I replied something like “Yes of course, that’s why I all the way up here in the middle of it.” Then he fished around in that fanny-pack of his and took out what looked like a silver cigarette case. He took something small and held it out to me. I asked him what it was and he gave me a brief technical explanation and then said (and I will never forget this) “If you really want to know”. He put this small thing on his (very large) tongue, swallowed and smiled. I somehow felt that I trusted this guy (only God knows why!) and did the same thing. He hugged me and told me not get scared and he was gone. Vanished! The lights went down. Absolute pandemonium broke out. The dust became a consistent part of existence. I honestly thought I heard thunder, but it was just the opening of what I think is now was top 5 Shakedown Street. For the first time in my life, I felt bass. The sound was so much clearer and louder then my first set experience. I started to move to the music without even realizing it. ‘WELL, WELL, WELL, YOU CAN NEVER TELL!’ The final jam seemed to never end. It would gain momentum, hit a crescendo, and then fall, or change speed, and it would gain momentum again to a fever pitch. I was open mouth; drop dead flabbergasted by this music. Shakedown ended to what seemed like a drum solo, but then I got my first “feel” of Jerry when he ripped the first note of Samson and Delilah. That note injected my soul with Jerry and he is still in there today. By the end of the song I was jumping up and down pointing at the pavilion and screaming “I’M GONNA TEAR THIS WHOLE BUILDIN’ DOWN! Then a pause, and then some tuning. Then a very familiar riff. I just knew the song, but couldn’t put my finger on it, but boy I was shaking my ass to it. “Well, my temperature's rising' and my feet on the floor, Twenty people knockin' 'cause they're wanting some more, let me in, baby, I don't know what you've got, but you'd better take it easy, cause this place is hot. I’M SO GLAD YOU MADE IT! It just all started to really make sense to me. What was making sense, I had no idea, but I started understanding something. Lost in the music was this little thing the skinny guy and I lunched on about 30 minutes before. I had really forgotten about it until I started laughing hysterically during He’s Gone, because I really thought the lyric was “Steam Locomotive, FLOATIN” down the track”, and I was actually seeing a brilliant steam engine locomotive floating above the crowd under the pavilion! The funny thing is I remember not feeling surprised by this. I just went with it. Not surprisingly the rest of the show is really foggy, and I honestly have little recollection of anything after drums. The show ended and I know that I found my way back to the car where my pack was because my next memory is walking around the dark lot with my pack and a beer in each hand. It was a chilly night and while I was walking around the raucous campers and coming back to Earth after my first Grateful Dead inspired space walk, I noticed that I was starving. I had had nothing but Tasti Freeze cheese fries in the last 24 hours. I rounded a corner and came upon a campsite. Two guys were sitting at a picnic table talking and drinking beer. On the table was this enormous spread of bagels, cream cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes and other assorted goodies. I thought about asking if I could buy a bagel off of them. I reached in my pocket to see how much money I had left. Much to my dismay I could find nothing. I looked all through my backpack, but the only thing I had that had any monetary value was 8 packs of Marlboro’s remaining from the carton I jacked. I mustered up the will to approach these guys hoping they smoked, and needed smokes. I said hello. They turned and greeted me in a cheery fashion. I remember telling them that the spread on their table looked so good and I would love to trade them some smokes for a meal. The guys looked at each other and one of them told me that neither of them smoked. I started to turn away when one of the guys stopped me and invited me back. I joined them. A full beer and an empty plate were put in front of me. They told me to dig in. I spent the next hour eating, drinking, and talking to these guys. They were college students from the University of Pittsburgh. I told my story. When they understood I had no place to go, they invited me to spend the night with them. First they led me to a water source because I was brown. I had a layer of dust on me that must have been a quarter inch thick! I washed up, they gave me space in their tent, and I passed out. I do remember it being a very restful sleep. I ended up spending the whole next day with them, and getting a free ticket from a friend of theirs. We went are separate ways for the show. My memories of that night are not nearly as vivid for me. I remember being completely comfortable being one of those people I was jealous of the day before for having the freedom and comfort be whatever they felt like being. What a feeling it was to be one of those people. After the show my Pittsburgh friends would not hear of me trying to leave that night and they fed and took care of me again. As a matter of fact, they invited me to ride with them to Pittsburgh the next morning for the final show of the East Coast summer swing. And so I went. I ended up hitchhiking back to good ole’ Wilmington after the Pittsburgh show and sucking it up by going back to my parents, but I was well on my way becoming part of this community. For the first time in a long time I fely like I belonged. In 48 hours, I had been shown so much kindness and generosity, while having more fun then I have ever had in my life. I had also challenged my own mind and perception of reality and came out on the other side smiling. I felt like I was an explorer at the beginning of a voyage. There was so much yet to see. I was home. I think back on how powerful this experience was in my life, as it really has defined me. 6/30/85 defined where I have ended up. It defined who my life long friends are, and it truly defined my journey in life. Just think, how shoplifting .a carton of smokes changed it all. What a day. P.S. Being a parent now, I realize how bad this story may make my parents look. Well, it was pretty bad, but I was no joy to them either. We are all tight again now. Being a kid is hard. The morale is: try your hardest to make your kids feel accepted and loved no matter what. Love will prevail! "Circle songs and sands of time, and seasons will end in tumbled rhyme, and little change, the wind and rain."
  • Anonymous (not verified)
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    Gos Save The Freaks!
    I read Tom Wolfe's book The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test in 11977 and I was on the bus. I dropped acid for the first time in 78 and found out the bus was me & I was the bus! What got you on the Bus? Kind of brings you to ask the question "What does being on the bus really mean?" A lot of deadheads use it as a metaphor for getting hooked on the Dead. But "The Bus" is a bigger concept than that, in my mind. It means tuning in, turning on and dropping out of your "typical city involved in your typical daydream." Which is saying, like, how did you get deprogrammed from the bummer of middle-class oblivion? How did you find alternative ways of thinking and doing things? If you went back to the plastic mightmare and got caught up in accumulation (he who dies with the most toys wins!) then you got off the bus! At least, thats what it means to me... Kesey and the pranksters put an ersatz bus in the Smithsonian and then took a wild, wild freshly painted one out on tour some time around 97. I caught up with their act in Ann Arbor and it was just like in the book. Hangin' out, blowin' bubbles. Totally comfortable with being a freak. What did Hunter Thompson say in Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas? "Just another freak in the freak kingdom." Like the bumper sticker says, God save The Freaks!
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An excellent suggestion from Hal R., picking up on a thread in another topic: how did you get on the bus? What was that moment that left no room for doubt? Probably no two stories are the same, but they're all probably pretty interesting, so tell all here!
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I saw the two shows at the Electric factory in Philly April 1968. I do not remember much of these two shows. Then in May at Central Park in NYC they only played MORNING DEW.The boys were in great form PIGPEN was awsome sure miss him. @ that point I was on the bus and had just so many great shows with the DEAD family around. I am still excited and am now waiting for the 2 FURTHUR shows in Eugene OR. I am always the person walking and shaking hands to "welcome home" to the dead family. Saw shows in the 60's 70's 80's 90' 00' and now still on tour in 10'. Thanks for all the good times with the family.
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I wanted to let you all know that we are hosting a special show on Deadvids.com on Wednesday, November 17th, 2010, from 9:00-11:30pm/ET called My First Grateful Dead Show: International Edition. Each month, Deadvids.com hosts a new series called My First Grateful Dead Show. I host the show and each month a member guest hosts with me and we listen to their very first Grateful Dead show that they attended, and I interview them with 20 questions. During the interview, others that are present can ask additional questions of the guest host. We've been doing this show since late July 2010, and it's been catching on as people get to understand what it's about. We've found it really interesting and inspiring to hear each person's unique journey into this community and how it has impacted their lives. So far, it's always been an American/US-based deadhead that is my guest host, but next month we will have our first "international" guest host - a deadhead from overseas. I can't tell you who, or what show (we try to keep those under wraps until show time), but I would like to invite all of you, US-based and those living outside the US, to please join us! I thought the topic of this thread might be full of some folks who'd be interested in attending this online series. If you cannot make it, we post an archive on Deadvids.com of all the past shows so folks can see whose show it was and the link to archive.org for that show. You are all most welcome! Please stop by the Deadvids chat room to fully participate in the interview discussion. For more information, please check out info on the next show here: http://gdvodcast.ning.com/events/my-first-grateful-dead-show-5 And info on past show archives here: http://gdvodcast.ning.com/forum/topics/my-first-grateful-dead-show-1 Hope to see you all on November 17th!
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You must know that I hopped on the bus in May 90 at Dominguez Hills and had a Dervish flashback meltdown. Epic folks, epic. Got my halo and was an official twirler. Not the kind of twirler (post-Touch 87) that fought for space. I created space, or space came to me... How to put it? Doesn't matter. Hopped on the bus and did the entire summer tour. Lucky, lucky a Mob Mama like me caught the boyz on a good year. Course, the first part of the story ends at the Polo Fields In Nov., 91 West LA Fadeaway indeed! Been chipping up rocks from dawn till doom While my rider hides my sawed-off in the other room
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Hey Now...Just a reminder that www.deadvids.com is hosting another My First Grateful Dead Show this Wednesday evening from 9:00-11:30pm/ET. This will be our first in the series to showcase one of our "international" Deadheads so it's gonna be a really special show. Please do join us in the Deadvids chat room (http://deadvids.com/dv) to participate in the interview. We're bound to cover just a little more ground! Peace...
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sorry this is so long, I won't do it again. BTW, I am functionally illiterate. thats OK though right? eventually I do get to jerry. I don't know if my story will be welcome here. It is not something I usually share. if you read this you will probably see why. I don't know what is going on, what this "on the bus" thing is all about. I feel I have been contacted and jerrys involved somehow. perhaps it is uncool for me to try to speak so literally about it. it seems when I try no matter what, it comes out wrong. the story is just what it seemed like at the time, I don't really know what is going on, maybe I am insane. Oh, well. I hope I don't offend anyone. I see a psychiatrist for this condition which involves hearing voices in my head and in the past have taken some very hardcore antipsychotics. jerry looking at me and singing to me personally in a huge crowd is part of my delusional state, or is it? although after years of treatment I just finnally mentioned Jerry, I think the doctor thinks I'm kidding. I did tell him about hendrix long ago. (((((((before my first jerry show))))))) I have a darkness in me, I am told you can see it in my eyes (like in "hell in a bucket"). I am agoraphobic, I have heard voices since I was 18 (1980). like I said I see a doctor now for my condition and have taken antipsychotics in the past. I am a guitar player, since I was 7 yrs old. I was a hard rocker and liked bands like led zeppelin, black sabbath and Hendrix. I didn't really like the grateful dead, to me they sounded dated, hokey, and very uncool, with bad vocals. Like I said I am agoraphobic and have made a art out of avoiding human contact. when I was 18, before I started hearing voices I thought my Hendrix records were talking to me personally, I didn't ever think Jimi Hendrix was talking to me, I knew he was dead. I didn't know what it was, all I really knew was that it had something to do with Jimi's music and there was something very different about Hendrix. Shortly there after the auditory voices came. The voices I heard were clear and yet hard to understand or pin down. They voices never gave a name, though I did ask. whatever it was/is seemed all-knowing, like it was a conscious part of a bigger plan, friendly but stern, it seemed to have a implied sence of morality yet somehow still responsible for the darkness, whatever it was that was contacting me seemed playful, (it would play tricks on me, verbally and in the real world) interestingly enough it seemed to have the exact same sense of humor I would experience later as "some presence?"" at the "jerry show" during the time that jerry was communicating with me by looking at me and singing. (very similar to how the Hendrix records lyrics were meant for me right then.) I set out trying to make a deal with the devil (give me a break, I was young and alone) all I could figure is these voices (maybe just one voice at this point, I have no idea, it's just strange.) were something to do with what the rolling stones or jimmy page were talking about. not the devil as in the bringer of floods but more the cigar smoking man of wealth and taste from the stones "sypathy for the devil", at least that what I thought it must be. I practiced and studies ritual magick, in private. trying to figure out what was going on. I stood at the croossroads at midnight alone in the woods playing blues licks. (I think I was naked for some reason) I took an magical oath in front of an alter with a hendrix record on it (ie a bootleg with johnny wonter and morrison titled "woke up and found myself dead". what I getting at is so strong was this feeling of being contacted that I searched high and low and low and low. I was torn between two wolrds, the world of love and hendrix and my hippy friends, and the world of commersial heavy metal and my criminal friends. the heavy metal, aphetimines and the ego won out and I spent most of my life as a bad person and a criminal, I (me and my bands) have complelty destroyed many peoples private property, several houses, a whole apartment complex, I am not bragging I am ashamed and sorry. I/we inflicted violence, miss-treated women. children and family members. all to act like big men and cold-harted rockers. I not only went along with the others but am guilty myself. I could go on forever, LETS GET TO JERRY. I have had this freind since 1980, his name is jim and he owned the dog in the touch of gray video (other dark storys about the dog (jed) happened at my house, made the national news if I remember right). as long as I talking about dogs, what in the hell is the deal with the dogs, how do they fit into this whole picture? the voices told me I could measure in dogs. measure what? my life? a carreer?, anyway the voice said I get three dogs. I was sure I was on my last dog but now I've lost count. a year ago I thought I was putting my last dog to sleep and what do you know, I didn't die!, I did however become paralized from the waist down the next day. I need another dog. I can't really love people, maybe someday. my dogs and all dogs are not my pets or property they are my friends and I try to treat them as such. anyway----- this guy jim, is not like other people I have known. for instance I never ever remember him lying in any way at all, not even white. when he was around I always felt dirty, although he never tried to make you feel that way. if he saw a hitchiker going the other way he would turn around, he would stop at nothing to help others, it may be the ONLY thing he did. it was absolutly irritating! if I was to make a joke it would be that the grateful dead have been following me since I was 18 though this pure soul named jim, we somehow get toghther again and again in different states though what apears to be fate, I guess. blow my mind. it's like he's following me somehow. I meen it doesn't seem possible. anyway he drags me kicking and screaming to this jerry show, I don't want to see this hokey lame ass folk shit (remmember I am a metalhead) besides we had no money, gas, loggings, tickets or anything. I did not want to get in a car and drive to the bay area. but I did. the whole way there I felt the world around me knew what was happining to me. I didn't know but it seemed something was happing. don't ask me how but we got all we needed, jim allways got all he needed, the world colapsed around him (he brought very bad luck also) and he just kept on going with a great big shit eating grin and created more luck as needed, but what in the hell am I talking about. this is a dream not real life. anyway I went into the jerry show on church street and the band started. jerry sang many song lines looking directly at me, they were messages to me. I remeber he was telling me I was OK, not in so many words. he was saying the darkness in me was OK and he loved me. and I knew in my heart if could just get up and dance, this apparantly egoless hippy dance, if I could just do that then I would strat to heal or heal a little I don't know. one line I remember was the beatles song, "dear prudence" "....................................it's beutiful and so are you so are you, dear prudence, won't you come out to play." was sung directly to me from across the hall full of people. I was going to stand up and dance, I summoned all my courage and jumped up spilling a full "big gulp" soda on the couple in frount of me. they got soaked, I'd know that sence of humor anywhere! that the same voice thats been talking to me all along, I guess it wasn't evil. I was so moved by the show I was fanatic I think I may of said god was there or something stupid like that, I told everyone, they were so moved by my passion at least 10 of us got into a van (fathers, mothers brothers, friends all who did not like the dead) and went to eugene oregon to see dylan and the dead, I told everyone what was going to happen. nothing happened, nothing at all. it was hot, the sound was bad. i wanted to leave. about a decade ago I had a mental collapse and completely withdrew, quit playing guitar, saw no one and started seeing a doctor. the voices went away with the anti-psycotic drugs. but I was nothing, not a man, just a shell. a cage without a bird. my dog dies and I became paralized from the waist down. it's been a year, I can walk, it's hard though. my old heavymetal frtiends keep calling I never even answer, yet they keep calling wanting me to come play. they just called to tell me my arch enemy just died, the one who swayed to band to the dark side. I didn't answer of course but I did do a little dance. I'm hearing voices again, they are, as usuall telling me what to play , when to play, turn off the wa wa they say. they want me to keep going, keep trying, why I have no idea, I can hardly stand up. it seems pointless. I am working with dark modes now, darker than used in popular music. I am trying to know and understand them. what each interval meens, what emotion it invokes. I plan to start writting a peice that will hook into the darkness inside people, make them like what I am playing for bad reasons and then drag them into the brighter tonalitys ideas. why I have no idea, why try, I can't even go outside. I don't want to play in a band or be around people. what other choice do I have. I guess I better get another dog to love it seems I'm being called to some kind of service again. but why i did nothing except bad deeds last time I feel the rapture coming, am I being called? I am not even a good man, what does it want? I think in my heart I know exactly what it wants. my ego is not dead but it is definatly dying. I am sorry if I have offended anyone, I am a recluse and rarely communicate with people. I really have no idea how to act. around others. rodent.
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Have you ever heard a sound so powerful that you literally felt it deep within your chest? Each note resonates your inner core. Your natural reaction is to leap your feet and meet the sound on its own terms. Your body just flows with the music. You become lost in the sound. The very fiber of your being reacts to the notes. They cascade over your ears and penetrate your brain. By the way this was achieved without the aid of any mind altering substance. Listening is the only requirement for the music to transport you. My first experience with this feeling came on a warm, sun splashed Satrurday in early June , 1973 in Washington, DC. The precise location was about the 40 yard line in the middle of the football field in RFK Stadium. The smells of BO, incense and marijuana alternatingly nauseating, pungent and intoxicating teased my senses. I sat cross legged on the turf surrounded by 70,000 of my closest friends. We had travelled approximately 6 hours the day before and stayed 6 to a room in a Holiday Inn in the wrong part of town. We came to see the Grateful Dead and The Allman Brothers play a 2 day concert with the Dead opening on Saturday and the Allmans on Sunday. Saturday afternoon the first few notes of Morning Dew sounded like a volcano erupting. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. I was entranced by Jerry’s hypnotic guitar runs. I felt energized by Bobby’s strong downbeat rythym chords. Phil made my hair stand on end with his thunderous bass bombs. I felt that thump in my chest and it is there to this day. Licks traded by Garcia and Dicky Betts reverberated in my head for nearly 35 years. It wasn’t until I stumbled across a soundboard recording from this concert that I was able to satisfy my yearning to hear it again and again. Even the recording gave me that good ol’ thump in the chest. It was then and is now the best concert I have ever seen or heard. OK, Traffic in Chapel Hill might have come close but that’s another story. I saw the Dead (and Jerry) 6 more times over the next 2 years and they always came through. As time blew by it was either the job, family, or just too busy that kept me from seeing them again. Perhaps I had grown up. I was almost embarassed to admit being a deadhead. However finding that soundboard re-ignited the flame. These days I catch an occasional Ratdog or Phil and Friends concert. I am often accompanied by my 24 and 22 year old sons who have come to appreciate the Dead as well. Their Mom is a different story. She has seen them twice, first in Charlotte in the late 80’s and then in 2009. Her perception of the Dead... “It’s just the same songs over and over again.” She doesn’t buy into the “snowflake theorem” that each concert represents a different version of the song and no two are exactly alike. She describes the extended jams... “They’re lost again and they have no clue what they’re doing.” No possibility they are exploring the outer limits of their instruments and equipment and tonal improvisation. No doubt appreciation for the Dead is an acquired taste but once it’s in your head you will never get it out of there. I still explore the annals of the internet for audience recordings (I gave up on soundboards). I look for concerts on those nights when the boys had the X - factor working. You know, Jerry’s bouncing on his toes and grinnin’ from ear to ear. Bob’s singing with his head over top of the mike. Phil’s bobbing his head and pacing in time to the beat. Meanwhile, Billy and Mickey explode beads of sweat as they pound those heads. It’s those X-factor nights that keep me searching. It reminds me of looking for shark’s teeth on the beach. You don’t find one very often but when you actually see one and grab it you’re so excited you can’t stop looking. The Dead aren’t necessarily unique in the channeling of this X-factor feeling.. In bluegrass music it’s known as “the high lonesome sound.” I have felt it from Widespread Panic and Traffic as well as the Allmans. It is just more intense and deeper with the Dead. The Dead live on, or at least some do. Even after suffering the tragic losses of members over the years, the guys that are still here push on. They seem to be hurtling at lightspeed toward the impending apocalypse with axes in hand. I’ll close with the simple truth of all truths: There is nothing like a Grateful Dead concert. The dude abides.
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great read i couldn't have explained my first show (it was in 89) any better...during set break i was talking to people and told them it was my first show..they asked what i thought i said i am going on tour in the summer and did..dude53 if you are looking for a certain show drop me a line... hugs to all
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In the spring of 1995 I was 17 years old and in my senior year of high school. I had met a group of musicians in my hometown about 5-10 years older than myself ( I play guitar.) Our bass player had a roomate who was a huge Head. We'd be hanging out at his apartment and the roomate would bomb in the door from work, grab a shower, crack a beer, pop in a tape and turn it up to 11, air guitaring all the while. And I HATED it. I used to say "Put on some Hendrix." or "Got any Zeppelin?" I didn't GET it. Few weeks later I hear 'Scarlet Begonias' on the radio. LOVED it. OK, one song cool. Didn't get the live stuff. Then I'm at my bassists house again. He's jammin' some Europe 72, and I think "I've GOTTA HAVE this." And that was it. I was off and running. Got Workingman's and American Beauty soon after followed by Skullfuck and Without A Net. My first foray into 'unsweetened' live stuff was One From The Vault. I haven't looked back. By far my favorite band, the only band I really 'go on a bender' with (Zappa sometimes, but much rarer.) Thanks to the fellas (and lady) for making this great music and having the foresight and diligence to document it. It is our collective gain.
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appreciate your kind feedback. I must make a correction though. Sat afternoon session began with Promised Land (not Morning Dew which was Sunday night's opener). The effect was same/same though. Wish i could have hung in on that swing a little longer. They ended up in Watkins Glen with ABB's and The Band. Caught em again on the southern swing in Williamsburg, Cameron Indoor, Chapel Hill and Charlotte. Great memories when and if they decide to bubble up to the surface. The dude abides.
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Since it fits in so well with the topic Blair just posted. Enjoy. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. William Blake
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When I was growing up, I got my first stereo, joined record clubs that introduced me to groups like Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd, Steppenwolf etc they were great but no emotional connection. My neighboor Victor used to play amazing music and our mom's were good friends, his sister and I hung out and we used to hang out our windows sharing what music we found at the monent. One day I was ordered by my mom to clean my room or the wrath of God was coming down at me very quickly. As I cleaned I heard the wonderful sounds coming from Victor's window. Going over I heard Franklyn's Tower. I stopped in my tracks and was just blown away. I asked him to make me a copy,which he did. Next morning it was in the plastic tape case in my mail box. I played it so much that the reel to reel tape did not last two weeks. When I got my allowance I bought the LP. The album was the best thing I ever heard or enjoyed. The Album was Blues for Allah. I finally got to go to a live show and see them live. It was more than anything I expected. January 9th 1979 I finally came home and saw the dead. It was like my eyes and sould did it before and it was natural. Danced my butt off that night and enjoyed everyminute. Then I heard what is still my favorite Gratefull Dead song Box of Rain. When I got home I shared with Victor and his sister Joanne everyminute of the fantasic night and how special it was. Victor got my message at once. I still think of Victor everytime I hear Franklyn's Tower.He died in 1901,he was one of the pliots who was killed, his plane was the second one tht hit the towers. I still talk to Joanne when I see her and we still listen to the Dead. Somewhere he is dancing on the stars and still listening to music in his sould. RIP Victor.
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It was a great concert but I had the date wrong. I also heard a friends albums going home and heard even more music then. Sorry for the error.
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Winterland 10-18-1974 my 1st Dead show. So I am looking forword to the movie showing.I started listening to the Dead when I was 12 years old. My friend had a sister who wasn't around much,but when you saw her she was walking and you could tell she was hearing music in the wind. This was around 1969. She turned us on to the Dead with Anthem of the Sun and then Wake of the Flood. That was it. Wake with Sunshine was so cool. We would go to the stereo shop and in the speaker room put on Skelaton (Bertha) and play GDTR and NFA very loud. The stereo guy liked it to so we tried all kinds of speakers. It was a blast. I grew up in the Bay Area so I went to the shows before there hiatus.10-18-74 was my 1st and the rest of the weekend I will never forget. Friday nights Sugeree just blew me away. I remember passing out waiting to buy a donut and Coke in line at Winterland. It was so hot inside there. I was taken to the Haight Ashbury Free Clinic that was there in Winterland for the shows. They gave me some glucose and I was on my way back to the front! By the way I had put my dollar for the donut and Coke but never remember anything after that! Only $1.00 for a donut and Coke. The show was $5.50 The Sounds of the City on Tuesday nights that next summer of 75 at Winterland were fantastic $2.00 and I saw some great bands Sons Of Champlin among others and the Dead played and it was billed as Jerry Garcia and Friends. I just have the fondest memories of tripping all day at the beach and closing out the night with Grateful Dead concerts. Those were the days.
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he smoked me out before my first show (9-26-69 - i was working on the sound crew). i'd never seen anyone smile like that before. i knew i need to learn how to be that happy!
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My friend Tom dragged me onto the bus in the Winter of 73. I had just turned 18 a week before the show on Feb. 9th. I had been listening to a cassette of American Beauty that I bought from a sore called White Front in Redwood City.There was no turning back after the Maples Wall of Sound show! Such a great time for music in the Bay Area...we were able to see Old and In the Way at the Boarding House, Jerry at Keystone, Kingfish at a park in Palo Alto, etc.
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I suppose, in all fairness that I first arrived at the bus stop the moment I first smoked a joint and heard the Beatles' White Album. I was probably 15 or so, it was the mid '80s and I had been heavy into the Beatles for a while before I ever Turned On. I had grown up with my older brothers' taste/influence in music, Led Zep, KISS, Van Halen, Nazareth, etc. The Beatles were quite the musical revelation when I first "discovered" them. I was mostly familiar with their early stuff at that point, but loved it all. Then I turned on to pot and heard the White Album for the first time. Everything Changed. Suddenly, I was reading, watching, and listening to everything relating to the Beatles (and really, the Sixties in general) that I could get my hands, eyes and ears on. 70's rock was great and all, but this was a whole new world. I just started really grooving on the whole cultural phenomenon that had occured just before my birth. Now, being a "Hippy"(because in my head, all I had to do was smoke weed, put on some sandals and love beads and Poof! I'm a Hippy now:)), and thinking the Beatles were cool, was NOT cool in my neighborhood, my friends & family thought I was really wierd. I became the school's token (& tokin') flower child. I really thought that I knew what the 60's and hippies were all about. I started listening to other psychedelic stuff, Hendrix, Cream, even relatively obscure stuff like Moby Grape, 13th Floor Elevators and so on, but somehow the Dead stayed just off my radar. I had read about Haight Ashbury, the Pranksters and the Dead and all, but I just kinda thought that all of that was ancient history, ya know, I'm sixteen and that stuff had happened nearly 20 years earlier. It's really a trip, now that I'm 40 and writing about these events that occurred 25 years ago to realize how fresh the 60's must have still been in many people's memories at that time. Anyway, eventually I actively sought out a source for this Mythical LSD the had been the catalyst for the whole thing that was so intriguing and attractive to me. I had read Huxley, Castaneda, Ram Dass, Kerouac. I needed to find out. I finally tripped for the first time in '86. My dear friends Mom (& my pot connection) Sara, was a real Head,not a Deadhead, but a true freak nonetheless. She agreed to provide us stupid kids fine quality acid, as long as we tripped with her and she could babysit. I dropped a whopping dose of some of the cleanest, strongest acid that I have ever been blessed with to this day. Beautiful. The next morning as the sun was rising, still tripping hard, Sara's boyfriend Jay stopped by. when we were introduced, he said "KC huh? Like Casey Jones?" Blank Stare. He goes "You know like the Grateful Dead song...?" I honestly had no idea what this dude was talking about. Well, he figured that this would be the perfect time to dig out a dusty old record called Skeletons From The Closet. (see? I told you they weren't Deadheads:)) Well, he played Casey Jones for me, and that was cool and all, but really a different song on that album was what caught my ear, St Stephen. Everything Changed. Again. Skipping ahead another year or so, I had added a few Dead albums, (mostly early stuff Anthem, Aoxomoxoa) to my large collection of 60's rock&roll, but still didn't quite "get it", I thought I did, but still sort of assumed that the Dead was a "Sixties band" Then out of the blue, Here comes Touch of Grey. Totally Amazed. I remember thinking "Fuck Me, the Dead are still around? How could I have missed this? I mean, I literally had never heard of Deadheads, much less seen one, never heard Truckin' or Casey Jones on the radio, (or if I had, I didn't know who they were) And now all of a sudden here is this band that I thought was this cool, obscure 60's relic all over MTV and the radio. Needless to say I was pretty confused but stoked, That summer the GratefulBobDeadDylan tour rolls within 100 miles of town. I made the mistake of asking my Mom if I could go, Her response? "Bob Dylan? Who?..NO! I said "not The Who Mom, the Grateful Dead!" Anyway, it was not to be. My first Show turned out to be Autzen 8/28/88, 1 year later. ( I was still living at home, but didn't bother to ask permission this time.) I just scored three tix, told my buddy Alex (who was pretty punk rock) and the weird older guy, Blaine, who we partied with (& bought our beer on the weekends) That we were going to the Dead. We road tripped down to Eugene the night before the show, the psychedelic journey began approximately halfway there and did not end for days. This post has already been too long for me to begin to describe our many and myriad adventures that fateful day. However there were a couple of particularly memorable moments. Looking all around the stadium for my friend Colin, who I knew would be there with some amazing weed. At last I gave up any hope of possibly locating him amongst the wildly undulating technicolor crowd and returning to my bewildered and heavily tripping friends' seats in the bleachers, only to have Alex say "Hey isn't that Colin right there?!" 2 rows directly in front of us! Alex, with his Combat Boots, Mohawk and rolled-up jeans Moshing all by himself to Truckin'! Then The Defining Moment. I had purchased Terrapin Station a couple of weeks earlier and loved it, but had no delusions about them actually playing this"old"&"obscure" tune. Sure enough, second set, Terrapin Station! Un-freaking-believable! I literally had an out of body experience, watching Autzen Stadium turning to and fro a mile below myself dancing in the sky&crying tears of joy! And then, out of Drumz... The Other One! Again, I could not have possibly guessed that Jerry and the Boys would rip out this psychedelic gem to feed my head!! "The Bus came by and I got on, thats when it all began! Overall, I swear, the imagery that is found in the tune The Music Never Stopped, It All happened just like Bobby says on that beautiful day! Thanks, Folks, for sharing your wonderful stories. Love, KC
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Listening to the live broadcast of the Capitol Theater concert on 4/27/77 over WNEW FM in New York on my headphones in my bedroom on a school night. I was sixteen. That spring tour was epic - and this was the show that hooked me... I went to see them 3 nights later on a Saturday night at the Palladium in NYC's Greenwich Village. We scalped $7.50 tickets for 12 bucks and our friends thought we were crazy to pay so much... Times have changed, but thank goodness the music history is preserved in the vault and lives on today with Furthur...
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rpdugonoi, That Maples concert was my second show.The first was NYE '72 at Winterland. I was 16 and it was an amazing experience. I really felt as though I had found a home and I guess I was right.
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Significant in many ways: Pigpen's last show, the New Riders opened, I had just graduated from high school, and I was peering through a very clear windowpane during the performance. Powerful waves of pleasure/pain: the Bowl had hired some muscle-bound goons for security, who wore "Peace Power" t-shirts, and they really thumped some folks who jumped the rail from our section trying to get closer to the stage. They laid the boom on a few people right in front of us. This foul flailing happened while the music was flowing most fine. I'd listened to the Dead for a couple of years before then, but that first show sealed the deal, and the dealing has never stopped.
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I know you wrote this many years ago...but I just read it now. I was there the night Jerry and the boyz blew a whole in the sky around the collisium. You told the story so well. Thanks for the memory!
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RFK Stadium in Washington D.C. In particular the second set Eyes of the World. I swear Jerry made his guitar sound like a pedal steel. This show continues to amaze me after of 40 years of continued listening on cassette and cd's. It's just the best!!
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I grew up in a small country town in Australia. I always liked music, but the radio was really hit and miss, and there wasn't much in the way of concerts to go to…So…Myself and a few friends read magazines and tracked down albums (remember those). My cousin turned up a copy of Live/Dead when it came out, and I was intrigued. I wouldn't say I liked it a lot, but it kicked something over in the back of my brain…Particularly Saint Stephen. After that we got Skull And Roses etc. Mix this up Hendrix, Cream, CCR, The Stones, The Allman Bros etc., and I was away. Live/Dead was one of those albums that is like a lot of my favourite music now…It didn't grab me immediately, but just kept 'nagging' at my consciousness, opening up a space where other options I might not have considered were alowed in to start to work their magic in turn. The Grateful Dead stuff was always a little more adventurous, the lyrics a little more oblique, and there was a sense of 'inclusiveness' about their scene that always made them stand out to me…And always worked well as a background to sort of lifestyle I chose. To be a 'hippy' there / then was a bit of a tight scene; you could tell just by looking, so it was easy to hook up with people. After I left home, went to uni, moved around, went back to uni, there was always music in the places I lived, and always a bit of Grateful Dead. I gradually ran into copies of Workingman's Dead, American Beauty, Europe '72 etc.. I've always collected music, and it has turned out after 40 odd years since Live/Dead, that I have more of the Grateful Deads stuff than anything else, and probably listen to them more than any other band…And…I still like St Stephen (though probably not as much as Row Jimmy). Not being from the US, I've never had a chance to see them live…But…As I stated above, there is a sense of inclusiveness with their music / scene that is appealing, and adds an extra dimension to just listening to the CD's than is the case with most bands. I still collect music. At the moment, my wife son and I are in Vietnam, where my wife comes from. We spend a fair bit of time here, and I've been tracking down some good Vietnamese music…But…I just realised today I have been listening to the Grateful Dead (with a bit of Jerry Garcia thrown in) on the iPod for the last 3 weeks…You know how it is. I get on Dead.net sometimes, and thought I would join up today, and "What got you on the bus" was one of the first things I looked at… …So…Row Jimmy!
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And since you're in Vietnam, you might consider posting in the Deadheads of Asia thread to see who else is out there and tell your stories.
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Riverfront Coliseum 1989 Eyes of the Word.I was mesmerized,I needed to see/hear more,I was home,I was on the bus!

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but I nuked a spam post and in the process a nice new post disappeared, about the long strange path that led one of us here. SO sorry, not sure what happened, but please post it again!
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I went to Saratoga in 1985, had seen the Dead & JGB prior but that show was hook, line and sinker for me. Wherever they where it was the greatest party on earth that day and I had to be part of it when I could. Richmond 85 did not hurt either.

my earliest memories of the GD are mainly about the artwork. Based solely upon that, I thought they must be a dark, heavy metal band like Black Sabbath (another band it took me a very long time to 'get'). All those skulls!

At some point early in high school ('81-'85), I picked up Skeletons in the Closet. Definitely NOT dark heavy metal! but also too weird for my top 40 ears to fathom. I do recall thinking Mexicali Blues was ok.

Then in the summer between my Junior and Senior years of high school my friends and I were presented with a choice one night: attend a high school party at a guy's house, or go downtown to listen to a Grateful Dead concert from the park right next to the sports center where the band was playing. I was incredulous; why would anyone want to go sit outside of a concert? So we went to the high school party. That was 6/30/84. Oops!

After high school I went to a small liberal arts school in a small Ohio town. There was a large contingent of East coast former prep school kids at this place, and a whole lot of them were deadheads. This was in the era when CDs were just becoming the new thing (I remember being amazed that an upperclassman I sort of knew had 40 CDs. Forty!) I just happened to be visiting an off campus house when a couple of friends came in with the newly reissued on CD Europe '72. I had never heard of it, but they were excited. They got everything just exactly right for the listening experience, and we spent the next three or so hours pulling tubes and listening to the whole thing front to end. By the time we reached the climactic end of Morning Dew, I was on the bus for sure.

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I never had the privilege of seeing The Grateful Dead in concert. A friends band was playing at a venue where there was a Dead tribute band. I hung out, enjoyed the music and never stopped. Now, I make it a point to see all the bands I can, while they are still with us.

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In 2017, my dad took me to my first Dead & Co concert. He was a Deadhead but lost the passion after Jerry’s death, but when he saw Dead & Co would be coming to the venue only 5 mins from our house, he wanted to give them a try. Thank God he did. I did not know any of the music, but the atmosphere was intoxicating. Since then, I have seen Dead & Co eight times (seven with my Dad) and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Thank you Deadheads for being the best fans in the history of music. Our love, acceptance, joy, and kindness are needed more now in this world than ever.

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In early 1971 I was listening to my new discovery, FM radio. Most radio stations were just so-so, not really interesting, "adult-type" of so-called easy listening. AM radio on the FM. Then I tuned in to a distant one just above (or right of) 92.1 it was at 93.3 and the calls were (and still are) WMMR Philadelphia. I wasn't too sure what I was listening to, but I thought it was another Steppenwolf song, I liked the organ but the whole song was a slower tempo and I liked it, then the announcer came on and said "... Truckin' by the Grateful Dead from their new album American Beauty."
The hook.
Backing up a bit, back to 1969 and Woodstock, I read about the event in Life magazine and enjoyed the photos and read the list of bands who were there. Some I heard of, others I did not hear of (yet). The Grateful Dead were listed. The name stuck in my memory. What sorta music did they play?
When the triple album was released in 1970, I didn't have the money to buy this cool thing. The Grateful Dead were not on this album. I heard about the movie, but the GD were not in it.

A little bit later, I heard a shorter version of Truckin' on my local top-40 AM station. The sell.
I went to the record department at my brand new local department store and I saw the big American Beauty album and the price tag was too high - $3.98, then I went over to the 45 singles rack and found Truckin' backed with a song called Ripple on the B side. 49 cents - the buy!
Not too long after that, I bought American Beauty with earnings from my new newspaper delivery route job. Later on, I bought Workingman's Dead.

My 1st rock concert and my 1st Grateful Dead concert was June 10, 1973. But that's a whole other story.

Looming above the Grateful Dead in favorite bands at the time were The Beatles and The Who - they were more important to my interests at the time.

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....not really, actually it was a process, but that sounds better, lol.
Knew of the Dead a little like most kids in the late seventies, but not very well. I was really into Hendrix and Zeppelin, and had already been exposed to The Beatles. They were the first Band that we really got to know. Frampton Comes Alive was the first album I ever bought, but by late Jr, High I was way into Zepplin and more so Hendrix. Meanwhile, my best friend John’s sister was dating this Guitar player Dave Homel who played in a Dead band. He started indoctrinating John and I, probably late 77, feeding us bootlegs and sitting us down for “sessions”. About that time Terrapin cane out and we heard that, and that was so weird and different I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I remember playing some of that song for my folks cause they were into classical, and they really liked it. I was still more into Hendrix/Zepplin, but the Dead were becoming more important as the months went by and we listened to more tapes and albums.
At school there were only literally a few actual Dead Heads, but I was getting to know them at parties etc, and because they were different and didn’t care what others thought etc, so that misfit/outcast thing resonated with me big time, these folks were pretty cool! So all this socialization combined with increased listening got me where my top three were Jimi, Zep and now the Dead, but the lightning bolt hadn’t hit yet.
In those days we’d go to almost any concert we could, Rock and roll at least....so I’d seen many shows but the Dead hadn’t come around locally to Buffalo yet, and my parents wouldn’t let us go to Rochester yet “all that way for a concert?”, so I didn’t get to see them right away even though I was really itching to finally see what all the fuss was about. Then three things happened, the first being I started to learn guitar and Dave was showing me some Dead tunes, so I started to see how different the Dead was in a really musical way. The second thing was the first lightning bolt.
I was at John’s one Beautiful sunny April day in 1978 and we were listening to Skull Fuck, and all of a sudden Johnny B Goode just hit me! It was a favorite that I knew because everyone played it, and of course Jimi crushed it. I’d heard this version before, but for what ever reason that day it just blew me away. I made John keep playing it over and over. So now I really had the Jones, “I’ve git to see this band”, but alas, still no local shows,
Finally, one day after pops picked me up from Skiing I just barely heard something on the radio about the Grateful Dead and turned it up just in time to hear something about them coming to Buffalo? So immediately after we get home I call John and because of Dave he’d heard about the upcoming show at Shea’s Buffalo Theatre of all places and filled me in. Everything was word of mouth back then, there were no cell phones or internet, and the Dead were truly “underground” as they used to say.
So I was supposed to get a ticket via Dave but they couldn’t get me one because they had to get tix for literally like a whole row of folks, all in the balcony, so I was crushed. But as would become a repeating X factor of serendipity in years to come, I managed to score a third row ticket from a guy at school. Tickets were probably less than five bucks but he wanted twenty because it was third row at Sheas etc which I gladly paid. Not sure how many driveways I had to shovel but no way was I not going! It’s funny decades later the guy who sold me the ticket was still apologizing for scalping the ticket as he became a “full” card caring Deadhead himself. Of course the show was worth every penny, but the added bonus of busting his balls and joking about it all the decades later were worth every cent!
So finally on 1/20/1979 I fully was on the bus, and 41 years later I consider it one of the greatest days of my life! Seeing them live was like turning on the proverbial light bulb, like “oh, now I get it!” Great show too, Dark Star and TOO, a little Serengeti like drums. I remember they played a lot of songs that were on Steal Your Face that I knew well by then. That and Skull Fuck were huge influences. Oh, and typical Dave, “hey buddy, you want to sit up here with John and everybody, I’ll take your ticket and you can sit up here?”.......yeah, thanks Dave but I don’t think so, I think I’m just fine in the third row, lol!
I still like Zepplin a lot, and will always dig Jimi, though perhaps not as much, but no one will ever come close to the Dead for me. Was fortunate to see 109 Dead shows and dozens of solo shows over seventeen years before Jerry passed, and still go when it’s convenient all these years later, but nothing will ever compare to that first one! Nothing!
Thanks to the boys for all those wonderful years/experiences etc, all of it incomparable!! Truly a band beyond description! And thanks to Dave and that whole gang for teaching us, and thanks to Chuck for that $20 ticket! It all rolls into one, and melts into a dream” and what a dream it’s been!

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What got me on the bus was a friend didnt have the ten bucks for the ticket he promised he would pay for so I was asked if I wanted to go and buy his ticket with ride to the show and back - I said naw , I like van halen and led zeppelin , they said it will be a party if nothing else, I was 8 days from 17 and thought why not its ten bucks - it was an afternoon show and the forecast was rain, it poured all morning - but it cleared right before showtime and the parking lot was allright and the show was hot best ever for me 7-2-87 up tempo, and tight - unfortunately it won't go down as a special show because high humidity and rain the recordings are only so good - the best version is on youtube as a local tv station filmed first 4 songs - there was a step back there was a phil zone with signs and chanting jerry even addressed the phil zone and broke the fourth wall , and a mexicali hat dance warm up by jerry that show if you use archive .org try the unmixed version the crowd is louder and the crowd played the band all that pent up emotion wondering if the thunderstorms would pass in time it was real bad that day before the show rain thunder lightning whew the hydroplanning on the thruway - I was deadicated that day

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My first show was 6/17/75 at Winterland. Thought the Blues for Allah was a bit spacey, but by the time Sugar Magnolia came around I rose outta my seat , started moving my feet, and clapping my hands. 11 shows later I had Thee Profound Revalation again at Winterland on 10/21 78. With more fun than a frog in a blender, I realized during Ramble On Rose that This Song, It Ain't Never Gonna End. I was a Deadhead for Life, and proud of it . Gonna see DeadCo in June, and Wolf Brothers in Feb. Looking forward to both.

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Guy across the hall freshman year 1975 at Colo. State was from Cali and wise in the ways of The Dead. Bought some albums, heard some tapes but didn't have the bus come by until 7-8-78. A legendary show and not something you can just dip your toe into. Enraptured by Jerry of course but the sheer power of the band and the sound in that setting was transformative. Only got to eleven shows and missed some key opportunities. Found taping in the early '90s thanks to David Gans GD Hour show on radio which really added fuel to the fire. Thanks Deadnet for keeping it alive.
Cheers

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Got on the bus June 26, 1974. Never got off......................

Experience is a revelation in the light of which we renounce our errors of youth for those of age......

Rock on,

Doc
Revelation and the nature of truth must be viewed in reference to the structure of language.......

I got the first LP from my Pop...he worked at a record wholesaler and label salesmen would come by and drop off boxes of promo LP's with the corners notched...Instantly grabbed by Viola Lee & Good Morning Little Schoolgirl...still too young (according to my Mom) to go out at night for a gig (I was 16)...so mid September (the weekend before my Senior year in high school began) one of the neighborhood kids ran over to my house to tell me that the Dead and Jefferson Airplane were doing a free park gig in Elysian Park...we convinced various parents to let us go and one of my friend's Mom dropped us off...we had her drop us off about a block away from where the concert would be happening, we didn't her freakin' on the freaks....Pig killed it...Grace was an Earth Mother Goddess...And Away We Go! My last shows would've been the December '94 run at the LA Sports Arena...what a dump...

Early 1967, high school buddy Charlie and I heard about the first Human Be In and decided we should host one for our high school peers... the music video we saw of that growing scene included Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead, Quicksilver and Country Joe. Acid had not been made illegal yet but being 14 years old, we had no clue, just wild, observing the emergence of SF counterculture from our east coast suburbia. Jerry had been given the nickname Captain Trips. When the first psychedelic albums appeared that spring into summer, we devoured Surrealistic Pillow, The Dead, then Sargent Pepper's and Are You Experienced. The Dead's album stood out, as it still does today, prototypical, iconic. Never missed picking up asap everything else, still have original vinyl. Was fortunate to have a number of friends into music as much as I was, constantly refreshing what was coming out, the latest records. First real concert as previously noted, my father had to drive us down to the Washington Hilton March 1968 to see Jimi Hendrix and Soft Machine.

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My first show was on March 10, 1981 at Madison Square Garden. My father knew someone at Sports Illustrated and he got me maybe 4 tickets in their club box which was high over the blue line on the left side of the stage. Maybe 4 of us drove up from NC and wandered into the box where there was beer in the fridge, a bathroom, couches, and bar seats at the opening into the air of MSG. This was before the days when they put plexiglass between you and the air. It was a bizarre introduction but it sure was comfortable.
We were all thoroughly dosed by the time the lights went out and the Dead shambled onto the stage, a far cry from other concerts I’d been to where the entrance of the band was full of fanfare. They opened with Mississippi Half-Step which, within 5 minutes, exploded something through the speakers, startling everyone, especially the band as they stopped and took a second to re-group, and then entered into a groove that I still remember as one of the most enticing and relaxing things I’d ever heard. I learned later that we’d entered what I consider the beauty of the Dead within the first song.
Somewhere in the first set, an adult and his two college-age kids came in. I ignored them until the intermission when I got the fear that they knew my father and my condition was not reportable. But he became much more concerned about his sons who couldn’t understand how all of us seemed so messed up but without even touching the fridge full of beer. They proceeded to try to get on board and by the end of the night were puking in the bathroom. We paid no mind. There was so much amazing music enveloping us.
I can still hear the songs. “It Must Have Been the Roses,” “Scarlet/Fire,” and “China Doll” are particularly vivid sight and auditory memories, what I call “lean-in music.” I was leaning in so far that I overheard the man ask one of my friends if I was going to be alright because I was leaning so far into the space of the Garden, trying to absorb every note.
I recall the drums taking us down and down and down into a hellish fire of red and orange lights. I wasn’t sure we would make it out.
The double encore began with “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” which I listened to many years later and found to be horrendous, but at the time I was far too preoccupied with the giant black swirls of material flying through and filling the air. And the bats. I was amazed and a bit concerned, but “Brokedown Palace” relieved every concern and left me wanting nothing more than to see the next show.
Of course I still had to get home and that involved heading into some nearby bar with my friends and becoming certain that the floor was flooded with several feet of water and why wasn’t anyone more concerned?? And then having to wait for a bus in Grand Central and having the driver threaten to kick me off if I blew the bird-water-whistle I’d been playing with. Eventually I got to Providence and decided I couldn’t deal with the wait or the bus anymore and so I got off and hitched the rest of the way to Cape Cod where I tried in vain to tell anyone who would listen how different and amazing the show was. To no avail. But I was on the bus. Hundreds more shows, but that one was something.