Grateful Dead

Fire up.... I'll be webstreaming through nugs.tv... where's your seats? a BooBoo board will be in your inbox on return to RaChaCha.... bet you $20 you get a U.S. Blues.... summertime come and gone, my oh my oh my!!!! Enjoy the ride... they were shit hot and rocking!!!!!

So it was, and we happily let our ears partly decompress and made sure feet were semi firmly anchored to earth...these sandles were made for dancin and walking, ready set go... ...any tale of Indy would be incomplete without mention of the 009 mosaic, brought to you through and by our guide and resident local, Kurt, da Man... It seemed that our friend knew half of the folks in the house, and throughout most of the first set, half of them visited or promised to visit. Kurt knew friends from the 4th, 5th, 6th etc grades, and he and they and by proximity this cub got to hug, relive, recall, extrapolate on and other wise discuss the daze of yore and at hand. One friend John, seemed to be the senior friend from the 4th grade, and at the break, he was close at hand... ...before we could say which way, whiskers, he said, "Let's go up to the lawn, a friend of yours from the 7th grade is there." We started the long walk up the steps from the inner A sanctum, along the center aisle with the lawn on the right side and the big bowl bowels of Deer Creek seating to the left of us, passing countless deadheads and the like...turned at the center aisle of the lawn and headed up the slope...all... the...way...up...to the tip top...and then looked around for said friend...Kurt, being the more together of the pair of friends, said I dont have a clue who we are looking for, and I nodded, that makes 2 of us, of course...but John assured us we'd find the elusive buddy from childhood. Looking this way and that, no mysterious friend in site...the view was spectacular tho, and the sun was setting over the bowl and giving everything a magical glow that may or may not have been enhanced by anything in particular which may or may not have been going around in gusto... It became clear that the unknown friend had probably wandered away to do those things you find necessary at the break, and I saw the sun set, looked at the flash of color over yonder, and said, let's get back, the bands coming back soon i bet...so we did...and made it semi in time to use our nifty It's not a Bribe passes to the VIP lounge. The whole excursion was perfectly right-on...a mission to visit an unknown friend, a hike through the masses to watch the sunset from the top of the bowl, a chance to see the Whole Enchilada laid out in front of us...so thank you Kurt, thank you John, and thank you unknown and unseen friend...you made it happen... Meanwhile, back over there, a roar went up, lights went up, we lit up, and the band once again came on stage...Set 2 and the journey continues...for the music never stops...this little ditty does, tho, right here, on this Dot.

oh, so hard to concentrate on the business at hand. The rails are patched, the sails shined, provisions stocked, fresh oil and ready to roll. reports from Saratoga to follow, stay tuned

awww shucks....you made me blush. Thank you, you're not too shabby yourself.

Wooo...you boys sure do know how to tell a good story! I will attest to everything these fellows have said. Really the only thing I can add is that this just might be the best group of folks I've ever met and I wouldn't want to spend my "Dead" time with anyone else! Virtual hugs to all!

...are there two Dr Richies an da house? What are the odds of a Doctor Richie giving a miracle to a Doctor Richie? What kind of cosmic confluences and alignments have to occur for one to fly in from New Yawk, and one to cruise up from Memphis, each wandering their separate ways through the maze in a daze and end up after much twirling around and folderol making, end up face to face ten minutes before showtime, one with an extra ticket and one needing a Miracle? Dr. Richie, meet Dr. Richie...we expect miracles every day...for the cosmic confluences that occur at a Dead show are the stuff of legend and lore, the odds are perfectly in your favor, and who else deserves it more, other than you or me? The show, back to the show...for the Band Beyond Description or this 2016 version of it is on stage and we are a twinkling away from the first chords to today's Masterpiece. Cub reporting being what it is, with the pay and all being at that nickle and dime side of things, this particular version of the evening can and will not be the studious chord-by-chord breakdown of the show...sure, I could say they started with Minglewood, which left half of us wondering what the hell the song was because we are new to the scene, one quarter of us saying I am too old to remember the name of this song, and the other quarter saying I am too high to care...sure I could start that way...but the pay isn't good enough for that... Monday morning's edition of the Daydreamer Daily SunShineNews Dead-a-Gram comes gratis, as the best things in life are free or very expensive...results may differ, void where prohibited, and not available in states ending in Why.... So we left the Minglewood Blues to those still outside, and merge into the left lane, step on the gas, and roar into Cumberland Blues territory. Did Bobby sing better than John? Who is driving, please take the wheel.... Somewhere in all this, someone had thoughtfully brought some of those hand rolled thingies that get passed around so we can all share the same germs and build up tolerance...and as this intrepid reporter looked, ten thousand little glowing joy sticks suddenly started being shared between like heads, no-one missing a beat, and now, suddenly, there were no strangers, only family, and the brotherhood and sisterhood could not have been stronger if it had developed in the womb...I'm rambling now...sorry... No Wait, that's the next song! Ramble On Rose! Finally, three songs in, every living soul cranks it up and sings along with the bouncing rubber ball in the Heavenlies..."Did you say your name was?!" ... Bobby is belting it out, John, Jeff and even Oteil gets to belting it out...and in rapid succession Black Throated Wind, then Geeky's song of all songs Althea and then this silly Sailor Saint of Circumstance ditty are presented to us by a damn good band. Not the GD with John, Jeff, etc, not Bobby and the Midnites, not some take off band with a substitute lead guitar player, and certainly not the band many heard last year. This is a new band...one who has nothing to prove, one born of all silly circumstances, from an off the wall invite to play on a Late Late Tonite show. Folks, it's the real McCoy, complete with Birkenstocks and pajama pants. We have, presented for all to marvel at and party with, a real live rock and roll band that isn't shy, isn't feeling its way, isn't trying to mimic something. It is a new force, and one to be reckoned with...and those in attendance in Indy certainly did get a treat...a music journey that started over here, and rapidly ascended to about that level, then leveled off and the wooossshhh off we go into the wild smokey blue yonder...the set closer left us right at the perfect spot, as Bobby said, "we'll be back in a bit"... Come to think of it, so will I... cheers, The Break, where-in we get to do all the hikey we likey to do, the Interludes and Outerlubes of Deer Creek, and Set Two, as well as the famous Two Dollar Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, the Lot...and a Golf Cart Ride too? Who ever heard of a golf cart ride at a Dead show...this ain't the Masters..but wait...go feed the parking meter of life, let out Puppers she hasta pee...and stay tuned for the noon edition....all will be explained...and if you're still reading, the answer is 42. ...and now, a word from our sponsor, "It Depends"

...but, I digress..... The whole Indy thing fell in my lap, after a little prodding from geopleasecometodeercreekmeister and the gentle persuasiveness of Devil's Friend, "don't be a pussy and just come to the f*cking show", a line right out of Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People, I scored a ducat in sec. B row T under face, a last minute miracle, the elusive room at the Cambria, which by the way was sold out and overbooked and a promise of a ride from King George in his chariot, I took the plunge. But wait a minute....you know you make me wanna shout! Dammit, there I go digressing again....a few days before the show, a fellow head in da Buff calls and asks if I can use a two in sec B row N, same section and row as Miami n Ozark btw as he can not make the trip due to work commitments...and those tix are gratis, so who is this mongrel dog to pass up A Nice Pair...Adam unloads his seats, becomes my wingman in all things illegal, immoral and fattening in those kickass seats, 2 rows behind pit center stage... So here we are about to enter the gates of heaven and I still have one in sec. B row T, walking around the lot with Ozark and Devil's Friend by my side, I happen upon a middle aged stoner, joint in mouth glassy stare and drooling, my kind of folks, I ask quietly "who needs a ticket?' Looking up he asks "how much?" I reply that we can talk money later, so I whip it out....the ticket that is, show it to him, and say, my friend I have been blessed in life, isthmus be your lucky day, he takes one look and says c'mon is this real? These things don't really happen...I assure him it is real,it is spectacular and it is free, and you have been miracled...sticking my hand in my pants again...get your minds out of the gutter perverts, I produce a I need a miracle button, provided to me by geopartyfavorsuprememeister and hand that to him as well....he asks what he owes me, I ask for a manly hug and the opportunity to have Matt and Adam snap a few photos, and most importantly the promise that he would pay the act of kindness forward which he eagerly agreed to. He obliges as Likey to Hikey looks on in awe and endless wonder, whilst biting her lower lip and trembling with excitement she like what she sees. (Hoo hah said in my best Pacino) Turns out said miracle recipient is a professor, a PhD in English at the University of Memphis and shares my name, he is a Rich as well and at end of the festivities gives Ozark and Miami his business card which I used to later fire off an email to him along with a picture of our exchange courtesy of Adam... So Devil's Friend and I pregame with brews and some hippie lettuce as Miami and Ozark wander off to the merch table.... It's moments like this that drew me to the culture that I am proud to be just a small part of.... What was that Sarge? "I need a woman about twice my weight....ride her like a surfer, ride her on a tidal wave..." anyway, time to take old leg humper for his morning constitutional.... Happy Summer children! I NEED A MIRACLE EVERY DAY!!!!!

you might get one more pre-show story first...and we all need a miracle of one type or another. Richie, our esteemed dus briver of FTW lore and a righteous part of this Indy six-pack, had an extra ticket and is fixin on helping out someone who is need of one... He is strolling through the crowd with Adam our fearless packer of all things cold and combustible, ready to go in, and he stumbles across this gentlemen in dire straits...Oh No! Richie says, and a Miracle ensued. Lest I forget the details, or get the gist a bit wrong I will leave that part of the story to Richie... Meanwhile, the band starts strumming and we hustle to the A flank of Indy's Deer Creek, somewhere in front and under the pavilion...the other 2/3 of the Daydreamer six-pack had staked out Sector B, smack dab in the middle...as our friends take the stage and start strumming.... The Dead and Company have started to Paint their Indy Deer Creek Masterpiece! Descriptions of such a Painting would be far beyond this cub reporter's skill level...suffice it to say that on the morrow, time may be taken to describe in such inadequate terms as can be mustered, the succeeding three plus hours of musical melodies... As the weekend edition of the Daydreamer Daily SunShineNews Dead-a-Gram goes to press, rest easy...for we know the music never stopped... in this case, has found a new foundation. A band that has jelled. A band that knows what it might be capable of doing. A band that hops on the carpet and floors it...the story will continue, as the music never ends...

Don't forget your towel..as this restaurant and Dead show at the Indy corner of the universe is one that leans towards the self sufficient side... One more thing, Agent 009 had previously left nice "Welcome to Your 30-Hour Spaceship Home" gifts at our hotel. A suspicious aroma gently wafted out from one...maybe a hint of something that could create the illicit smile of song and lore...so Richie and this intrepid reporter carefully accepted said gifts and awaited the possession of our hotel room keys...upon receipt, we eagerly took the elevator to the top floor, worked our way through a maze of corridors, found our collective rooms...adjusted our tinfoil hats and opened the packages. It was no coincidence we were adjacent to room 420...mine was 418, and Sir dus Brivers was 419 as i said earlier, cattycorner and readily available for a stumble-athon. Fun ensued as we discovered our new digs and dug into our gift packages, but you'd have to buy us a cold one for that part of the story... Ok the show...Agent 009 and I strolled through Participation Row, a couple of vendor booths, found some cold ale on tap, discovered a tight ass front gate agent for the VIP lounge who said we have no more wrist bands available and are sold out. Burns, busts, bummers and ripoffs, thwarted from one of our goals. Kurt, being a local, took that as a challenge and said to the cute but stubborn guardian of the gate to cold beers and clean toilets, "Honey, you've got a whole bunch of wristbands on your arm, Shirley you cant be sold out quite yet..how bout we give you 20 apiece for a couple of those wristbands on the top...how does that sound". The little lady at the gate suddenly realized she had extras, and gladly handed us two wristbands to the coveted VIP inner sanctum...this reporter looked at her and said in his higher than a kite and quite amazed voice, "Did we just bribe you?" She smiled and said demurely, "Why no, you just bought a couple of passes, step right in".... We heard the crowd start a roar and knew a part of a band beyond description would be taking the stage, so we hustled to our seats...and the next part of the Sunshine Daydreamer story continues...

Hey Rich, Just wanted to remind you that I can't text from up here in the hinterlands of west Texiz. No cell service. Nada! I know that's so "20th century", but I try to make up for it when I get out in "civilization".