I had the pleasure of seeing the Grateful Dead about twenty times. I was never a Deadhead by any means, mainly because I couldn't handle listening to 125 different versions of Sugaree live, not to mention those folks trying to attach some sort of religious significance to the order of the songs and shit like that. "They went into 'Shakedown' out of 'Space!' Give me a break. I really really dug their studio albums though. They managed to be to be tight on those. They were an absolute blast to see live though, at least until people started into all that analytical bullshit. Overall the cool thing was that I was told by experts that I got to see several of THE great shows. I'm grateful for that. Back in the mid-80s I guess I saw three shows at Red Rocks.
You might wonder if I was tripping, and the answer is yes. I'd taken some black-gel acid and a big-boy dose of shrooms. I remember that right about the time I started to really get off, this guy came up with an armful of Rhythm Devils t-shirts. I looked at the amazing image of skeletons plaging xylophones and drums and stuff and I must have had a shit-eating grin on my face, because the guy looked at me and said "They're dancing, aren't they?" and I had to say yes. I bought one and I wore it until it was way past the rag bag. The strangest thing was the feeling that I was moving around when I wasn't. While I was sitting in the stands, I could swear I'd grooved my way up or down five rows of stairs every five minutes, but then I'look down and see my water and my shoes and stuff. Curious. I finally decided to get on more solid ground as it were, and I went and stood on the walkway. I was flying, but at least I didn't feel like some crazed nomad with amnesia. I found myself standing next to this huge biker guy. He was fully decked out in black leather and spikes and the whole bit, only with dancing bears on his jacket. To this day I think that was a great look.
So I'm standing next to this giant 6-6 biker dude and I'm tripping my balls off. I was seeing skeletons relaxing in the clouds and rainbows and shit everywhere and dancing bears that went to infinity, and I could literally "see" the music coming out of the PA. I was tripping hard and loving it. You might think that that might be a little worrisome, but you had to have a fairly strong mind to take that stuff in the first place, and back then most people knew that. To be able to go with the flow was rule #1.
Biker guy fired up a bowl and passed it to me. The first thing I said to the guy was "Thanks." We were practically compadres before we'd even finished the bowl. That's how it was, and I saw some truly amazing things that I still can't explain. To say that Deadheads had a strong sense of community would be an understatement.
I could tell a million stories about just those few shows, but one completely stands out. It was I believe the second show of a fhree-show set. Originally the shows were scheduled for the evening but they changed them to daytime.
Some people may wonder...was I tripping? Oh, HELL yes. Everybody was. I'd taken some black-gel acid and a big-boy dose of shrooms.
One wild thing about that day was that I was so in the moment or whatever that I couldn't really tell if I was moving or sitting still. While I was sitting in the stands, about every fifteen minutes I'd have sworn I'd grooved my way up or down five rows, but I'd look down and there was all my stuff. Curious.
After an hour or so of that business I had to get up and stand on solid ground as it were. Oh, the shows were in Red Rocks, and if you've never seen a show there, you owe it to yourself. Beautiful doesn't do it justice.
I was standing over on stage right and I found myself next to this huge biker guy. He was fully decked out in black leather and spikes and shit; only with dancing bears. To this day I think that was a great look. I got into the show much more without the crazy distraction of not knowing whether I was walking around or not.
Biker guy fired up a bowl and passed it to me. The first thing I said to him was "Thanks." By the time we'd about finished the bowl we were practically compadres. That's how it was. It was cool and I saw some things I still can't explain. To say that Deadheads had a strong sense of community would be an understatement. I was just happy to be in the midst of it all, when out of nowhere I started to cry. I have no idea why. Mucic pushes my buttons and that was far from the first time that happened, but usually it's accompanied by an intense feeling of joy and love for music, but as much as I hate to say it it was surprisingly neutral. I was just crying.
I didn't want biker guy to see me crying so I turned away a bit, but when he gently nudged me with the pipe, I looked up and saw that he was crying like a baby. A few seconds later I looked around and I swear to god at least 85% of the entire crowd was in tears. I didn't imagine that. It really happened. My friends could back me up, and I should probably call one or two of them and talk about it again. That would be fun. I looked up at the band, and they were grinning at each other like they'd accomplished what they set out to do. It was nuts. How do you explain that? A mass-hysteria-type thing? Maybe.
I wish I could remember the song but I don't guess it really matters. People told me that it had happened before, but not quite the that. Really...what could have caused that? Was it drugs? Doubtful. Was it a chord or a vocal or a melody? Maybe. Wss it Jerry?
I guess I'll never know, but it's one of the craziest things I've ever seen in my life. It was extremely cool to have been a part of something like that. That was some shit. I hope biker dude is doing okay. I never learned his name but I'll.never forget him. Or that day. I spend more time thinking about the experience in general than trying to figure it out, but sometimes I can't help but wonder. I'm glad I got to see the Dead a few times. As always, have a nice day.
