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    marye
    Joined:

    This started with a discussion between Frankly and Warlock, which follows below because it's too good to summarize and sets the tone beautifully... Tell your stories here! -- ME


    Frankly

    winds of change

    what about a topic which deals with the fact that there is an evident change of DH generations underway.there are rhe seniors who are coming into their 60s(or more) now,than the middle of the road who came on the bus late 70s and the new ones who never had the luck to see the GD because when jerry passed away they were like 5-10yrs. old.wow,its in fact allready the 3rd gen. of DH and the 1st to grow up only on canned music.i am sure that the folks of all these 3 groups might have alot of interesting stuff to tell one another..:-)(-:peace to all

    Warlock

    Frankly... Frankly

    I'm one of those 3rd generations. I was born in 1980, f

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  • ls420
    Joined:
    Miami 94
    At Miami the next show after Orlando I had one of the most beautiful days ever. The weather was perfect and the lot was calm. I was still soaking in all that had happened the days before. That day my friends from Vermont (3 girls) had found out that one of them had cancer so needless to say they were drinking. My best friend on the lot had broken his leg and another got a ticket for selling t-shirts. I had such great energy following me that I set out on a quest to get everyone into the show. I got on the right attire for the mission shorts and a peacock feather. First I chased a scalper around harassing him until he gave me a ticket. Next I stayed on miracle alley until I got 5 miracles I then went and gave all to my kin. When I got back to miracle alley I saw a kid with a Metallica shirt on and a sign saying "It's My 18th Birthday My First Show And My Friend's Left Me" so I had to give him my ticket of course. The show was about to start and I had no ticket. At Miami the entrance was raised above the lot with an outdoor gate area. Out of the blue I heard someone yelling from above. "I have been watching you all day and if anyone tries to catch this ticket I will come down and kick there ass" The ticket fell right into my hands. It was a mail order. Iran for the gates. When I got inside I saw some friends huddled in a circle, my one friend had ground scored a five pack of paper lsd. He was ripping large chunks off and handing them to all of us. Well now everything was different. When I got to my seat somewhere in the first section of the balcony when I got there no seat existed for my ticket. The usher took me to an office where a manager was. I was pretty well freakin by this point. She took a good look at my ticket and new it wasn't fake just a misprint. She then wrote out a ticket for my and the usher took me there. 3rd ROW CENTER "Row Jimmy"
  • iknowurider
    Joined:
    Jeez
    HST PEACE
  • iknowurider
    Joined:
    So am I !
    Cant wait for the next installment "A cap of good Acid costs five dollars and for that you can hear the Universal Sypmhony with God singing solo, and the Holy Ghost on Drums" HTS
  • Hal R
    Joined:
    Mind boggling GRTUD
    Simply stellar synapses snapping scintillating surrealistic snapshots. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. William Blake
  • ls420
    Joined:
    orlando 94
    I had been on tour for about three years when this happened. The show was Orlando spring 94. The night before had been canceled do to billy's father passing on. The night was filled with a lot of energy the police were being quit aggressive and the kids were playing right back with them. I was staying out of all that just hanging on a lawn. When night fell the hole place when nuts teargas was flying and kids were getting dragged off. The police had put up barriers so no one could get close to the doors. My friend dave and I were waiting for something to happen because we figured no matter whether we agreed with gate rushing in the show was better than out. The right moment came and I ran for the door before I could get there the doors were wide open mostly because I was carrying a full backpack and others got there first. I got to the top closed my eyes,prayed and jumped into the chaos. The next thing I new I was inside the inner doors were shut. I ran for one. As soon as I opened it I saw friend Carrie with arms open for me. And I heard " THE BOTTLE WAS DUSTY BUT THE LIQUOR WAS CLEAN " The most amazing and powerful moment I ever felt on tour. The rest of that year was filled with miracles. Tell more later I have to go do laundry. I NEED A MIRACLE EVERYDAY
  • marye
    Joined:
    wow!
    more!
  • TigerLilly
    Joined:
    on the edge
    of my seat, GRTUD, please do continue a.s.a.p!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Was you ages and ages ago with that great cliff-hanging bat story, wasn´t it??********************************** Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you will still exist, but you have ceased to live. Samuel Clemens
  • GRTUD
    Joined:
    "Hey Man, Can I Borrow Your Ticket?"
    The painting is from Jacek Malczewski a Polish Impressionist that has been dead (unfortunately) for over 70 years, thus his work is pubic domain. I'll be right back... "The task is, not so much to see what no one has yet seen; but to think what nobody has yet thought, about that which everybody sees. ." - Erwin Schrödinger
  • GRTUD
    Joined:
    The Shadow of Wings
    In honor of the "reunion" I finished enough of this story to get started here. It's a beautiful night for a campfire. There will be at least two parts, posted as I deem appropriate (OK, when I get around to finishing the damn thing). Robert Hunter impressed me so much with his short stories, I was inspired and thought it might be fun for everyone to do a project with "cliff hangers" and such. I hope everyone has a GRATE time at the reunion concert. "... when you find you're there, remember me, my only love, my only love, my only love." Prelude ~ Meet the Beast   Terror is the first emotion; at least until we make visual contact with the creature, first hand, putting it into context of the world we associate with reality. It could be a vulture, rabid bat or butterfly but until we make the contextual identification, without doubt, it is surely the wings of Hell itself that stalks us. HST surely understood this as he navigated the Nevada desert on his way to cover the motocross event sidelined in his "novel", Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. The present day archetype of the apocalypse is making it's return, personally shedding it's own light on objects that cast shadows of doom these days; skyscrapers, airplanes, bridges and billboards. How could we have missed the meaning so easily spelled out in the hindsight of time? What next, TV's and computer monitors, as they are hurled out the windows of modernized life, onto the street corner named, Desire & Main or perhaps Madison & Wall? Poor bastards, wait 'till they see the bats...             Fungus and synthesized chemicals are something of their own dilemma. The beautiful spectacle of galaxies colliding will eventually draw too close to view in full, like our own Milky Way is now. Only the black of nothingness will shroud our view of eternity. The fad that was flavored in Kool-aid is merely evidence of grace, not of the compulsion to succeed. The horse, the water but not necessarily the drink. But what fun it was when combined with ignorance and youth! While no stone is tossed the ripple is viewed by some, as a tsunami. Sometimes they're bats the size of 747's, or high flying butterflies, I can't be sure anymore... terror is a hallucinogenic drug too, it turns out. The fractals of time and space as seen from the oblivion that frees the slave from the shackles of perspective are as delicate as the scales of such creatures. Drawn to the light of self-awareness, they fear neither bat nor bird of prey. Their wings, a delicious poison of truth and beauty like a dart frog on the leaf of a primitive fern basking in the glow of white light, spectrums hiding from view but not purpose. Here there is no Time or Space but all the same it exists in unlimited quantities. The need to monopolize quantity has no mind; therefore there is no hunger because there exists no processes. Here is “Now” and the tank never runs dry because there is no need for a tank in the first place. No parades to dogma equal the psychedelic backdrop to the scene here, man. Just allow the thing to let you go and you're gone, once and for all. No shadow here only perfectly dispersed light to read the book. The first pages turn lightly and contain only a few words but we know and dread the weight of our mistakes, as they mount with weight on every page we read. These words blare the burden of our ego which we were duped by, like the three-card Monte game that caught our eye. An easy buck, to be sure, until all was lost. A walk to the park turned into a mugging we solicited. What a fool I was to believe in such lies, but that’s the burden of being doomed, after all. Again, the shadows return and cover must be found. The creature has returned to claim its quarry.             The alarm screeched ceaselessly from the area that had, only moments ago, contained the delicate fern gully with a small steam of crystal clear water babbling over small smooth stones the color of auto body putty. It wasn’t possible that the time for work had arrived again. “Gonna’ have to invent something that cures poverty, and soon”, I thought as I twisted the alarm setting to “OFF”. Being dragged back from the brink of doom for this drab facsimile of reality, over and over again was becoming tiresome. I prefer the damn bats, quite frankly. I could take ‘em too, if I only had the time. Oh well, no time to lament, just one more night shift then off to NYC with No. 1 to take in some real culture. The Lyric Opera House show was tremendous and only God knew for how long this “second wind” would last. Lucky I’m still here to witness, much less with an adult offspring that wants to accompany me to such occasions. As I entered the great room of our home to finish dressing I over heard the audio portion of one of our “house movies” playing on the TV. “There’s nothing more pathetic than an aging hipster, “ Dr. Evil said on the TV as the “kids” watched Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. Laugh as I did, it was becoming a poignant commentary of my life, at least from my perspective. Nothing was physically working as in the past. All physical activity now caused the need for several days of rehabilitation. My allergies were the only thing that had reclaimed their youthful edge. In fact, the last several years these disturbing developments were also causing anxiety the likes of which I had never experienced. I suppose all that crap about spirituality and faith was only so relevant and supportive so long as there remained no physical sign of personal decay and death. All that teenage tripping had made the veil of time as transparent as the cold, clear night sky that greeted me as I walked outside to warm the car and load my junk for another shift at “the mine”.             I still remember the day “it” happened. The day I had my life put in perspective. No it wasn’t the day we all think of post September 2001, it was some years prior. No. 1 came home and informed me he was working on a project at school and he needed to ask some various people a question, the same question: “How would you spend your last time on Earth if you were told missiles were on their way here from a nuclear armed country?” I was caught flatfooted by a question I had, myself, been asked to think about when I was about No. 1’s age. I’ll never forget what raced through my mind as he asked the question, bristling with confidence. Terror, pure terror, was the only emotion I could feel. For more than 16 years, almost half my entire life, I had belied reality by staying busy, working full time, coaching, going to community college at nights and weekends and taking whatever side jobs I could get to pay bills and yet we were flat broke, tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt, in fact. Nearly $7,000.00 per year alone to send No. 1 to private high school and all I could muster was terror, oh and rage (plenty of rage). It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I thought. I could almost see the shadows from the “creatures” as they circled overhead. My pulse pounded my skull in rhythms of laughing thunder, mocking my defenseless state of being. How could this happen to me? I intended to be a doctor of journalism like my hero, Hunter S. Thompson and instead I was just another cog in the wheel of capitalism, a wallet with legs and now my own offspring would surely turn against me when I failed to offer an alternative to the stark, dull, parasitic reality that I inhabited. Worst of all, I feared for No. 1, as well my other children. If I had nothing better to offer, if all my efforts in life were merely measured in futility, what could the young expect from life? According to Albert Einstein, as I interpret his General Relativity Theory, a moment in time can last forever, since time is nothing more than a perception. Good timing for a person caught in the confluences of the preverbal “web” we weave in the haymaking, oat sowing days of youth, mine at least. The entertainment portion of life was now finished. It was time to “pay the piper”, as my old man used to say. “What a drag it is getting old…”   A Time Trip Backwards ~ GRTUD's Front Row Odyssey               “Hey man!”, the voice behind me said as my friend Moe, his wife and my wife handed over their tickets to the man at the top of the long flight of stairs. We were standing inside the Capital Centre, entering through one of the “portals” to descend to the floor for a Grateful Dead concert. I had never had tickets this good before, in my life. “Hey man, can I use your ticket to get down on the floor to get my gear from my friend?” I turned to look as a white “kid” bounded up to me with dirty dreadlocks and filthy khaki cargo pants and no shirt. “You want to use my ticket?” I asked, holding it up. The acid Moe and I “found” in the parking lot was taking effect. Voices seemed to take forever to get to my ear, almost like a nitrous balloon high that just kept getting stronger and stronger. The “kid's” dreadlocks were morphing into a thicket of snakes, like a male version of Medusa. I was the sucker of the group, believing the money a person asked for in concert parking lots was really needed for a bus ride home. I rarely had money to give but I always brought lots of food to share. I believed in Southern Hospitality and although Maryland doesn’t really qualify as “The South” I had always identified with the ideals represented by the notion of bringing enough supplies for myself, as well several others. Sharing was part of the fun for me. Moe was a DC cop and he had heard all the stories before and no one blamed him for becoming callous to all the sob stories that were popping up around the Dead’s scene these days. What I did blame on everyone in our group that day was having me “bring up the rear” of the group. I suppose the point man had the most risk in a situation like this one, but I could be distracted so easily, on acid. I had lagged behind the group. “You want to use this ticket… my FRONT ROW TICKET?”, I mumbled. At that moment everyone turned to look, as if they wanted to see how I would deal with this quandary. Would it be a Billy Kilmer to Charlie Taylor touchdown in the fading sunlight of an early winter’s NFL Championship game "moment" or would it be another triple overtime NHL loss to either the Flyers or Islanders? We all seemed frozen in time, looking into each other’s eyes, terrified. The Shadow of Wings melted across our faces… Don't touch that dial and stay tuned for more! "The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer." - Ken Kesey
  • culliganman007
    Joined:
    "Andy" John Andrew Vojtko
    I wish to Inform the Deadhead community that my Best Friend in the entire world as passed and any fellow heads that would know him (and there were many, many heads)should know that this happened, particularily Tony in Portland that i do not know how to contact but I saw at the 2004 show there with the Dead. Andy was a model deadhead in his belief system or principals. Jerry would of have been proud to call him friend , he never wanted to be a typical fan or hassle anyone at anytime. He was my music partner we went to so many shows together , the ones on my profile is a small sampling. His knowledge of the music and the Dead plus numerous other band community was like a library of knowledge , The vault people could of used Andy. The following is his Obit and the DEADHEADS worldwide weather you knew him or not, should heed to his passing. His story is 30 years plus and amazing. It would take more space than I'm provided to tell the story from beginning to end. I have been given his music collection , which is quite extensive in tapes as well as CD's , Probably more than 3000 pieces or more. I will be cataloging this collection of live shows and all. The following is the OBIT , My Tears have flown for three days now since I found out. Yesterday was the big day for the furneral and being with his family. I have known Andy since we were 15 years old. John Andrew "Andy" Vojtko John Andrew "Andy" Vojtko of Libertyville Visitation for John Andrew "Andy" Vojtko, 45, will be from 1 p.m. until the time of the services at 2 p.m. Saturday, June 28, at Holy Cross Lutheran Church, 29700 N. St. Mary's Road, Libertyville, with Pastor Robert Davis officiating. Born Aug. 18, 1962, in Libertyville, he passed away Wednesday, June 25, 2008. Andy had lived in the Libertyville-Mundelein area all his life. He was a 1980 graduate of Libertyville High School, received an associates degree from the College of Lake County and attended Illinois State University. He was a charter member of Holy Cross Lutheran Church in Libertyville and was employed as a cook at Winchester House for many years. Andy enjoyed music, model trains, the outdoors, various pets and cooking. Surviving are his parents, Gerald and Delores Vojtko of Libertyville; two sisters, Jane (Charles) Binning of Cornville, Ariz. and Lynne (Darren) Rogers of Wauconda; and his favorite nephew and niece, Ethan and Brianna Rogers. Memorial contributions can be made to your favorite charity. Arrangements were made by Burnett-Dane Funeral Home, Libertyville, 847-362-3009. Published in the Chicago Suburban Daily Herald on 6/27/2008.
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This started with a discussion between Frankly and Warlock, which follows below because it's too good to summarize and sets the tone beautifully... Tell your stories here! -- ME


Frankly

winds of change

what about a topic which deals with the fact that there is an evident change of DH generations underway.there are rhe seniors who are coming into their 60s(or more) now,than the middle of the road who came on the bus late 70s and the new ones who never had the luck to see the GD because when jerry passed away they were like 5-10yrs. old.wow,its in fact allready the 3rd gen. of DH and the 1st to grow up only on canned music.i am sure that the folks of all these 3 groups might have alot of interesting stuff to tell one another..:-)(-:peace to all

Warlock

Frankly... Frankly

I'm one of those 3rd generations. I was born in 1980, f

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Cliff Hangers/1974/Humboldt Co., Ca. yes, it's true-my then 3 yr. old son & I went over the cliff in a van & he was literally hanging over the next cliff, as I pulled him up to spend the night under the stars in a bed of pine needles with me. (it rained the night before & the night after) Next morn, managed to walk the hill to the nearest house 4 help. A TOTAL miracle-the van didn't blow up, didn't land on us, we lived thru it in the land of the Giant Redwoods, etc.... your story earlier reminded me about that. HT-I agree about "glorifying" LSD for the other kids to hear about. There was always someone in high school (in the '60's) who didn't come back to us (but alcohol also did the same) Not to mention what was made back then was from the Chemist, who knows what's it made from or who's making it now...........xoxoxox Gypsy Cowgirl
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So glad you made it through that one...
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seeing the string start with the Red Rocks...had to share; 77 moved out to Boulder CO sight unseen from east coast just cause I heard it was nice. Age 21 and pretty experienced and on the bus since a little after Watkins Glen. End up in framing carpentry building houses along the foothills. Lots of hippies/dead heads. My favorite bands then were Little Feat and Marley’s Wailers. Saw Dead at Red Rocks but can’t remember how many times. But I was at that 1st 79 show because now I am reminded that the next two were rained out...didn't have tickets to them but it all jogged my memory. Saw them at a great venue one summer at the Univ Col (CU) football stadium on a nice day. They cut the field in half and played to one end zone stands. Can’t remember the year…. 81?? Great day…for once I didn’t have to hassle with driving a car or not knowing where I was….Warren Zevon was the opening act and he was really wrecked…almost couldn’t function…BobWeir came out on stage and tried to help move his show along…. Saw Jerry solo at a small theatre on campus somewhere along there. Carpentry went bust when housing collapsed (just like now…I’ve been thru it all before I feel sometimes….) Had moved on to graduate school at CU and had a good regular job by 83 and so heard about SunSplash concert in Montego Bay. First time I had any money to do anything. It was a thanksgiving weekend I think…84?? Maybe not sure….so once again ventured to an unknown place…camping in Jamaica and within walking distance to concert venue….very wild stuff. Lots of bands. Went with friend Jim a carpenter also, older, long hair and beard but only so so into music…kind of a cynic but very smart. I am very straight appearance by this point (relevant later…)… Met up with guy dead head that I remember was from Wisconsin. He gave me a hit - - and I don’t really remember too much beyond. I was very experienced by then but that one knocked me for a loop. I hope Wisconsin ended up ok - I was still very very looped the next day and Jim I don’t think even bothered to go into the concert area cause you could hear it from the camping area plenty loud and he had found a girlfriend…but he was in far better shape and corrals me to catch the bus to the airport to return. Everybody smoking on the bus because the paranoia is starting to set in about the reality of going thru customs security and so might as well get rid of it. We arrive I guess into Miami to clear customs and connect to Denver. Now in airport customs area it isn’t just concert returners..but lots of everyone, business people etc. I see Jim get tapped on the shoulder and he’s taken to a private room while I’m in line – the security guy starts going thru my back pack…and I am still very looped from the hit a day before plus smoke on the bus…he’s asking me questions which I answer honestly and he asks me what I do in Colorado and I tell him the truth that I work for the telephone company. And immediately he stops searching me. Zips up my pack and tells me everything is ok. It was like the term ‘telephone company’ was some sort of code word or something… weird…. Poor Jim finally clears and really got the 3rd degree even though he never had anything except long hair……we make it back to Boulder and later unpacking I find this huge spliff about 3 fingers thick that I didn’t realize I still had !! wow. Accidental smuggler…. Anyway it is several days before I really settle down and that’s the last hit for me ever since…. I went and saw Dead at CU’s Event Center some time later…. ~86?? Can’t remember. Gym where the CU basketball team played. First time I went solo. No trip. Kind of detached. Sat in back and did not really connect like other times. I regret not moving down front and enjoying that show more. Along that time made the vow that I was never going to any concert in stadiums any more. Too big. Music quality bad. I remember Springsteen came to Denver and I didn’t go unlike all my friends because I had sworn off stadium shows. Then I reasoned that young people like young music and therefore the Dead will wear off in popularity - - start playing smaller venues - - and then I will go because I love the experience. But that of course never occurred. Totally wrong on that one. They just got more and more popular up thru Touch of Grey. Moved back to east coast in 87. On the job interview that ultimately took me from Boulder to Hartford I am returning to Denver via Chicago O’hare. Wearing a suit. Go to my gate and look over and there is Jerry Garcia standing there. I am not one to fawn or ask for autographs. We catch eyes and frankly I am so startled at the completely unexpected recognition of who he is that I just more or less just give him an arched eyebrow look that says “hey you’re…” So I go and sit down in a deserted gate area and start reading the book I was on..Naked Lunch by William Burroughs…and a few seconds later Jerry is sitting a couple chairs down from me in the same deserted gate writing into a notepad..in the end I realize he is keeping his eye on the gate across the aisle that is loading..just before the door closes he gets up and goes in..last guy on board……….
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Of course drugs shouldn't be glorified and kids shouldn't take them...but they shouldn't play viloent video games, listen to gangster rap or buy Brittany Spears or Hannah Montana Douchebag Cyrus records either. Which will destroy your brain and cause suicide quicker than drugs. Besides this is a "round the fire telling tales" location...and remember kids...this F#%@&n website wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for LSD. And, excuse me, but we are here grooving on the music and cultural vibes of some of the biggest dopers ever to come down the pike. So let's not glorify anything, but lets not be squares and let's remember from whence we come.
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My son is playing on x-box live Call of Duty,besides all the killings,he was just now eaten by dogs...now that is sick!! Smoke a joint kid and listen to some good ole GD! heehee! Peace!
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your post makes me want to finish my story. I don't want kids to do anything stupid ('cause of something I've said or done) so I've taken some time to reflect on that idea. I'd like for folks to understand me, either now or later, I don't really care but I really never intended to scare anyone and if I have, I'm sorry. I had a dream about going out to California a month or so ago and I only had enough money for the trip and once there, I had no idea what I was going to do as far as staying somewhere, eating and so forth. Somehow I found myself at marye's place and she was totally cool but I sensed she was afraid of me. It really made me think... (and her dogs made me sneeze, even though they were so lovable and playful... when I woke up I could barely breath). I think what I liked best about this scene (in real life) was the fact that I was never out of place, since that place was very safe overall and we actually were able to be with one another in the flesh... it was easier to convey our real selves. The other "real life" is quite another story, of course. Either way, I figure it doesn't matter but I wanted everyone to know before I come through these parts again and post. "The task is, not so much to see what no one has yet seen; but to think what nobody has yet thought, about that which everybody sees." - Erwin Schrödinger
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Please, please keep these stories coming...I don't know what signifigance they will ultimately have, but I feel that they are part of the foundation of a societal sea change that is just appearing on the horizon.
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I'm still trying to figure things out as at 50 I'm barely digital. A friend of mine and I have set up a facebook page, Grateful Dead Pick-A-Place-And-Go to try and capture memories of places the band played. I see there are a bunch here but we're trying to get to the essence of the places. Why were they good, why did they suck what should people know about the places who never got the chance to catch a show there? What unique and personal memories do you have about shows at those places? I loved the Uptown in Chicago, Red Rocks, the Greek in Berkeley and Oakland Auditorium Arean/HJK. What about you? Rob
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Sorry my virtual self had weird vibes, and sorry my doggies made you sneeze!
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marye... your virtual self was way cool. I hadn't been to California in over 20 years and I was so excited to be back there again... it seemed just as awesome as the last time I visited. Thanks for the accommodations, btw! The fear was all mine, I'm sure, which happens when I take leave of the familiar for me. Also, my allergies aren't your fault or those cute doggies'. Give them a big hug for me please. "The task is, not so much to see what no one has yet seen; but to think what nobody has yet thought, about that which everybody sees." - Erwin Schrödinger
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_> I want to hear some OLD school stories from heads of the 60's and 70's and what they were going through, living, feeling, loving, from crap to good. Try to tell us what it was really like back in those amazing times! What do you think?> > I've grew up sitting around some "old timers" at a bonfire or at a wood picnic table, and that's where I learned the most.......Old Timers Stories, The Stories That the Crow Told Me, Travelin Back To the Summer of '69, Campfire Stories, or something or another as a title. Just hopin people will post. > > Scotty (Canyon Critter) ___________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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I was born in 1975, therefore I don't remember The Grateful Dead before then...I love hearing the stories. It's better than the grandpa that told you about WWII for sure....Thank you in advance for posting!____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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I've been reading through these....wow, I love this stuff. I was telling Marye that I learned the most through these people. It's definately true, if this is your first show, or 390th (that you remember) than read through this stuff....you can really learn alot from people who have been there. Strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hands.____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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But I will keep this on top, until The End!____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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I am the light.....you seek fire my child!____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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I've been trying to keep this on the top of the que....yet I have to work. I bid you goodnight, but don't think that you typing that kick arse story won't stop me from reading it!!____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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I only started seeing the Dead in the late 70s and consider myself fortunate to have seen a few shows with Keith & Donna before they left the band. I know there are Heads out there who remember being at Pigpen shows but that was long ago, many brain cells down the pike. If you ever run into anybody who says "I've been to every show there ever was!" , don't believe them! The only people who have been to every show are Jerry, Bobby, Phil & Bill. Because they were the band and HAD to be there... Even when I got my Dead "legs" around 82 there was always the feeling that I'd missed the goold old days. The Good Old Days are some magical place where everything is totally groovy and the band can't miss a note or sing off key or forget a word and the sun is shining and there aren't too many people and the show is free and there is plenty of everything and everybody is sharing it. It actually never existed that way but we built it up in our mind that we'd missed some magical space & time and we were only left with the remnants. I guess what I noticed WAS the passing of the torch to a new generation some time in the late 70s. Group hugs, massage circles, massive amounts of people dancing together shoulder to shoulder in a line on the floor. A lot of public sex going on at shows in the shadows. This all seemed to pass some time around 1980, loosely speaking. Jerry and the boys just got real quiet on stage from that time on. Words were few and far between. At Kingswood in Maple, Ontario in June of 84 Wavy Gravy was EmCeeing from the stage. The Dead had played a great show, along with The Band and Wavy was kind of summing it up when he said: "These ARE the good old days". It made me think then and looking back now I can see the he was absolutely right. That whole new group of Deadheads was in place and the band was pre massive popularity and perpetually sold out shows after 87 and Touch. I think what everybody should remember is that nothing was ever perfect. Yes, maybe the new generation will never know Jerry's unique presence and licks but we're the audience and we have a lot to do with the tone of any show. If we're kind and sharing and caring we can create the space we always had and pass that along to another generation. The music will be all the greater for our effort. If you see me blowing bubbles and blissing out I won't be plugged in or multi-tasking. I'll be just there in the moment, dancing & enjoying the good old days. I hope to see you there also!
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Boreal Ridge 8-24-85 Yep, it was technically a very glitchy show. Definitely far from their best. But, it was the highest(!) I was there with 4 other friends and we got there soon enough to park along the highway in a place where we hoped we wouldn't get towed. I spent the first half of the show in the audience proper and then decided it would be far more interesting to wonder off in the woods just to the right of the stage. Of course, the fact that I had to pee had nothing to do with that idea at all...in the end I climbed up to the top of the ski slope and managed to hop on the ski lift down as the boys were rolling into Truckin'. Then, about 2/3rds of the way down the slope the lift just stopped and there I was suspended over the left side of the crowd as the band continued to play. Nothing quite like watching the boys suspended in mid-air like that - way too cool! And then, just as they were wrapping up Day Tripper, the lift took me down to the bottom and dropped me off past the crowd and i hightailed it over to our car and found my friends and we flew out of there down to South shore for a quick dip in the lake - ! What an awesome day even for a glitchy show...must have been something I ate... "when life looks like easy street, there is danger at your door"
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that was you on the ski lift?:-)
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UncleJon, That would have been awesome! I always loved making a trek up to "Boring Hill" ahem I mean Boreal to ski, and getting stuck on a lift was my specialty. Sounds like it would have been surreal! ____________________________________________________ Will you come with me? Once in awhile you can get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right!
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Field Report April 15 1977 Got up at 5:30 to go to soccer practice. Hated it. Only joined the team cause my next door roomie was the equipment manager, and he got me a spot. We were second ranked in the country, so it was a heady time to be on the team. The coach was a straight up bastard who I hated with a vengeance since high school. He felt the same about me. Earlier that week, I had arrived at 6:05 am, five minutes late, and he had sent me off to the broom closet to sweep up, and I was not at a loss for a few choice words, as I left. Well, this cool Connecticut morning, I arrived at the gym, went into the locker room, and was directed to a "cut list" that had every name on it, but mine. I practiced as usual, cleaned out my locker, and went back to my dorm room, a little chastened, but mostly relieved, to be out of that soccer gulag. I met my high school soccer buddy in my room, as per preordained plan. We had planned to meet up with our friend Tim, also, but he had class, and he had two friends up from his home town who had nothing to do, so they hung out with us. He said he had something for us, and [deleted] We walked down to (hh) room and sat around smoking and laughing. At one point he put a record on the turntable, and handed me the cover. It was something called "Aoxomoxoa" what the hell? a mirror word? But it was a by a band I liked and had actually seen by mistake in my previous misspent youth. So I was interested in what it was about. Along about the time Rosemary's baby or some such song started, and I was staring at the album cover, and flipped it around to the back. Something felt really funn..nn..nn.. y, I couldn't put my finger on it, but it felt I was losing something, and also gaining something at the same time, it was quite confusing, and I stared a little closer at this band of hooligans sitting under a tree, and something just slipped away, i felt it, and then all of a sudden I was standing under that tree, talking to those people. And then I was sitting on the bed again, staring at an album cover, with my friends, new and old, listening to this album that was in my hand, and the music isn't so much music anymore, it is more noise, and noise with shapes and colors, and meanings. And then they start playing some bluegrassy sounding song and the strands of the sounds coming out of the instruments start weaving in some heretofore unknown visual way, so that I could see the interplay between the musicians as strands in a wreath. Whew, I was tired, it must be almost night by now... No, it has only been 3 1/2 minutes since I looked up at the clock. Hmm. What was the name of that album again? Crockolocka? Something? Who are these people? They are smiling at me, kindly. Who am I? Oh yeah, that kid, I just got cut from the team today.. Is that me? I guess not anymore, huh? Who, then.. Oh we are leaving the room now, and heading back to my dorm for some unknown reason. After getting heavier clothes on, we set out from my dorm. Word had got out about something, and people were in their door ways smiling at us as we left for some reason. We crossed the busy road, and climbed the fence into the fields beyond. It was easy going for awhile, but as we got out into the pasture, the unmelted spring snow began to bog us down. Standing kneedeep in snowdrifts, one of us happened to look back at the dorm up on the hill we had just left, and said, "hey, look!" We turned to see all three floors of windows packed with my dorm mates, all yelling and waving at us, cheering us on. Cheering us on for What? I thought to myself, that is odd beyond what I, well, we got a little wigged out, and decided to clear the field , and top the hill on the other side. So, to the cheers of the entire dorm, we topped the far hill, and halfway down the hill sat down to ponder. One by one my new companions jumped up, started running down the snowcovered hill, until the snow drifts tackled them, and they went rolling laughing down the hill. I was the last to figure this little joy out, and as I sat there a red pickup appeared in my field of view. Right in the middle. It hadn't seemed to come down the road, it just appeared in the middle. I made a mental note to figure that one out later, and I jumped up, and started running down the hill, until the snow tackled me, and I went spinning rolling laughing down the snow covered hillside. When I came to a stop, and picked myself up, I saw that (hh) was balancing on a boulder on a stone wall, and Jerry and Brian were sitting on said stone wall, looking a little like that picture of the thinking ape. Well, I simmered myself down, as it appeared they were deep in thought, but I was wrong, they were just waiting for me, so we headed off a tractor path into the woods. [deleted] We ended up deep in the woods at a fenced enclosure, and when we approached and peeked through the cracks in the wooden fence, we saw.... ...wolves? in Connecticut? Wolves?? in pens?? huh? Well, we commiserated with these wolves, and as we walked down the road out to the animal barns, a dark blue Audi pulled up and stopped, rolled down the window, and a pretty face, I should say a pretty angry face poked out and said, "What are you guys doing out here?" We said something as innocent as possible, and she said, "You need to stay away from the wolves, and leave them alone." As we tried to spit out, What are wolves doing..?" she sped off. Well, we managed to find the animal barns, and went first into the cow barn. The creatures were all laying and standing all on top of each other, and when one had to go, they would just eliminate right on top of one another, And the uuuhhhhhhss of the cows, just made me make a mental note on that sort of life. hmmm. Next was the sheep pens, and the sheep were giving each other a bit more room, and what is that? Some kind of female sheep in readiness, whew, never saw that before, what is that? that little black sheep over there, staring right at me. Little guy, lots of attitude, only little black sheep with all white sheep, and he looked pissed. As pissed as me, deep down, at the whole silly world situation. Just an angry kid, like me. Just like me, I think he knows it too, he is staring right at me fixedly, and me right back at him, and we are having a meeting of the minds, "hey dude, what is UP with this world?" " I know, huh?" Well, you have a good life little black sheep, let us see how we make our way in this world. As we turned to leave the barn, a thought hit me, and I turned to (hh) and said, "hey I just remembered I have a final today" As I started to continute that idea, he quietly said to me, "Maybe it's better just not to think about that right now, we'll deal with it later." That made perfect sense to me at the time, and honestly this is the first I have thought about it, some 32 years later. At some point we ended up back at the dorm, in a friends room, packed with people, I don't know why they all were there. I was only there because for the life of me, i couldnt figure out any other place to be. As we sat on the bunks, with that top bunk like a beam through my thought, I mentioned that I would enjoy hearing some Jimi Hendrix right then, that that must sound cool at a time like this. Right then, the radio that was playing started playing "Crosstown Traffic", and the room all kinda went oooh, and inside I went ohhhh nooo, because I could tell they all wanted to think I "knew" something, to have said that, but I didnt know how to let them in on that I was at present by far the hugest fool in that room. I put it aside and tried to kind of melt in the background. There was a small telescope, and out of boredom I guess, people started passing it around the room, one to another, around the circle. As it neared me, some kind of awful anticipation began to set in, that some how I was expected to do something meaningful, some thing "knowing" with this telescope, and my skin started to crawl as it came near to me. As it was passed to me, i was filled with an utter sense of not knowing what to do, or how to please these perceived expectations of my present cohorts. Without thinking, i just reversed the telescope, and looked through it backwards. Again with the ooohs from outside, and the ohhh nooos from inside, and just as the uncomfortableness was peaking, my consciousness was suddenly and shockingly instantly shot out of the back of my head to a distance of (conservative estimate) 20,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 thousand million light years, behind my skull enclosure........WTF??????????? I cannot contain this, I thought to myself, and saw myself from the outside, jumping up, because I could not fix this in place, and I had always heard if something goes bad, just change your surroundings, so I jumped up, and found an empty chair, a kind of Victorian affair, very out of place in this dorm, but it looked inviting and from another time so I sat in it, and tried to regain some form of a conceptual bubble field that i had must have been unknowingly living in, because suuddenly I was OUT OF IT, and I didn't even know the first thing about this new thing. The cutest couple ever, thats what I always called them, both with curly black locks that they must have spent hours a day cultivating, the cutest couple ever jumped up, and sat down crosslegged in front of me, opened up their school notebooks, and said "just start talking, we'll write it down." Now that is NOT what I need to hear, I thought to myself, and as the disassociation was not getting any better, and there was no one there who I could consult with, they were either long gone, or not in possesssion of the facts that I was living under. So the best I knew to do, was..... bolt.. bolt for the door. And as I hit the door to the stairwell, I turned to make sure I had closed the door, to see all 15 people in a big trail, trailing off behind me, and I shouted NOOOO on the inside, and just made my break. I headed for the cemetery and the yellow submarine beyond it. I ended up sitting on the cemetery fence with my four goodest friends, who had somehow run to the same places, and I pressed my fingers together, it was funny. The feeling of my pressed together fingertips was no longer located out "there" where my hand supposedly was. No this sensation was no longer located there. That proved it was all true to me. We walked back to my room, where stumpy 1 withdrew his foot halfway out of his athletic sock, until it looked like a person, and talked through his sock, and kept us all laughing until the sun came up, and we all fell asleep.
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it's the knick, it was the knick when you broke it in,in 1990, it will always be "the knick" sec 2 row E seats 7,8
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17 years 5 months
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to finish my front row story but I'm thinking of something along this line as a suitable format (the names and dates are just starry eyed pipe dreams just like my life): Photobucket
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I posted an earlier draft of this monologue in the thread for the show where the events that are described took place; Park West Ski Resort on September 4, 1983. It's part of a play that I've written for my Master's thesis that's titled Waiting for the Show, so when I found this thread today, the words "The Tribe Around the Fire" hit me like a ton of synchronicity. Here's why. (The setting for the play is the sidewalk in front of the Warfield an hour before the doors open the evening of a show; the set-up for the monologue is a sudden shift from a realistic depiction of the scene in front of the Warfield to a fantasy scene where everyone one stage gathers in a semi-circle at center stage; some sit, some stand; at center, a fire is produced; all cast members enter and join the gathering; a large mirrored ball is lowered; it slowly spins illuminated by a pinpoint spotlight; sage is burned in the wings; soap bubbles are released from the wings; cast members improvise on the ritual of the storyteller and the fire; some sit transfixed by the tale, some dance in circles around the gathering, some beat hand drums, some chant, some testify, some speak in tongues; near the end of the storyteller's monolgue, all on stage respond as the crowd that is being described in the tale; when the storyteller speaks the line, “but as soon as we realize this we return,” all exit by slipping into the wings.) STORYTELLER ...tonight we were talking about life and what I didn't know about it which was everything I think...nothing I thought...nothing I knew...worked anymore...and to be honest...knowing never really worked in the first place...knowing is not the same as the way...I had to find ways to stop thinking and start doing...I've crashed and burned and resurrected myself so many times...it's an embarrassment of pissed away riches...but then I know now what it was I needed then...and it's so simple...I needed to find a way to be still in motion...like a hummingbird...did you ever see one of those little buggers...I was at a show this one time in Utah...it was at a ski area up in the mountains outside of Salt Lake City...but it was like Labor Day weekend so there wasn't any snow...just green grass and tall pine trees running up to a high rocky ridgeline and a stage set up at the base of the hill by the lodge...I was riding with some kind folks from Montana that I met at the show in Idaho a couple nights before...we hit the parking lot a couple of hours before showtime and I thought I'd use the time to take a hike up the hill...maybe up to that high ridgeline just to see the sights... (Pause) ...my ride said to stop by their car after the show if I needed a lift to Red Rocks...I said I might...and then pointed myself up that hill above where the crowd was gathering...I had been looking forward to a hike before the show but forgot about the elevation...so what I thought looked like a five or ten minute walk probably took me an hour to get up...by the time I did make it...huffing and puffing...sun scorched...and dripping sweat...to the top of that ridgeline...and turned around to see what I had done...I just about fell on my ass from the view that opened up before me...there was the crowd below...and the stage beyond the crowd...and then mountains and mountains and mountains...too many to count...too much to understand...I caught myself sitting on a rock that was there...I hadn't planned to...to sit I mean...it was just what needed to be done in that moment I guess...and that's when I felt or maybe I heard...the air moving...a fluttering whoooosh...like atmospheric tachycardia...then...right in front of me...hovering there in the air...maybe a foot from my face...a flash of emeralds...and rubies...I was seeing then realizing I was seeing...a hummingbird...and look...she's checking me out too...like time was standing still...but with that realization...it all...shifts...it was time...and off she flew... (Pause) ...that's when I notice the crowd below looks like they're...turning...I wheel around to look behind me...but there's only rocks and sage...I turn back to the crowd and...they're looking at me...why are they looking at me...I'm sitting on a rock...I have my clothes on...I haven't burst into flames...there's like a couple thousand people down there who were facing west a minute ago and now they're facing east...I turn and trace the line of their gaze...up in the sky...and there's a person up there in the sky...a person with a parachute and purple smoke trailing behind...I think...well that's just crazy...but then...I want to do that...I turn back to the crowd...and they're going nuts...woo hoo...woo hoo...woo hoo...then down there in the middle of the scene...I can see from my vantage point high above...there's a large blanket or a tarp being laid out in the middle of the crowd...a target...no way...no fucking way...I turn back to the guy in the sky...he's got a beard I can see by now...he's coming in fast and maybe fifty feet above me...and he's dancing...he's fifty no wait forty feet off the ground and he's dancing...there's purple smoke trailing behind him and he's waving something in his hand...a ticket...he's waving a ticket in his hand as he passes over me and I make the loudest sound I can...woo hoo...woo hoo...woo hoo...and the guy in the sky answers...woo hoo...woo hoo...woo hoo...I turn back to the crowd at the roar they make...the guy in the sky steers their way...a little bit to the right...a little bit to the left...a little bit more to the left...several thousand people are focused in on this thing...you can see that he's feeling it...like slow motion more or less...there's motion still and sound but it's not the same old tick...it's ours somehow...like we've slipped out of its grip but as soon as we realize this we return...like the guy in the sky has to land...and he hits the target...sticks his landing...I jump up and run all the way down that hill but it feels like I'm flying...the band is hitting the stage as I hit the rail and here we are...the miracle moment of creation...the only time we ever live in...here and now...miraculous...all the time... Dead for life. What a way to go.