The happy traveling circus know as the Grateful Dead and freinds grew bigger and bigger and bigger as time went by. A third generation of fans has recently come of age, but they missed out on the camping, which has been banned almost everywhere, and the vending, which has continued but is now carried out like an illicit street deal: "Hey, Buddy, wanna buy a shirt? Looks just like the arena ones that go for 24 bucks!" All signs point into vans at the Meadowlands and being beaten by Blue Meanies. Adam Katz. Not enough toilets and way too much acid (and it's still two bucks a hit!) It was as if the Deadheads experienced a baby boom into Future Shock.
Suddenly there was a list of venuews where the Dead were no longer welcome. Towns protested, saying they didn't want their public places turned upside down for the sake of dirty druggies who came in one day and left the next, leaving only thier trash and their feces behind them. The Dead, who had never been particularly worried about what the establishment thought, were suddenly put in a postion where they had to ask the fans not to camp out, not to scalp tickets, and not to buy or sell drugs in the parking lot. I remember shaking my head in dismay, knowing that I had seen the beginning of the end. The beast had become too big for its britches.
Jerry got pretty big, too. I remember the "Jerry in red, trouble ahead" warning that was issued shortly before he fell into a diabetic coma in the mid-80s. I thought he'd never come out of it, but he did, and even his voice go better after that. As a musical whole, the Dead shone brightly through the last half of that decade, right up until Brent Mydland died. Another shock. Keyboard player #3 kicks the bucket (Pigpen McKernan and Keith Godchaux preceded him). Makes you think maybe they cursed themselves with their name, and should have stuck with The Warlocks.
I heard some smart-alecky comments in the last several days from people who knew nothing about Jerry and even less about the band. "You call that success? The guy abuses his body for 53 years, he got what he deserved." "All of those drugs didn't leave him Grateful - just Dead." "What the hell does 'Grateful Dead' mean anyway?" Idiots. I fart in their general direction.
For those of you in the dark about their moniker's origin, lt me share it with you: As the folk tale goes, a traveling man wandedered into town, where he happened on a dead man on a cart. "Why don't you bury him?" he asked the undertaker.
"I can't," he replied. "This man is in debt and cannot be buried intil his accounts are in order." Astounded, the travler asked further about the dead man's debts, promptly paid them, and saw to it the man recieived a proper funeral.
Some time after leaving town, the traveling man was ambushed by a band of blood- thirsty robbers. From out of nowhere came a figure who helped him chase off the thieves. It was then that the traveler realized he had been assisted by the spirit of the dead man whose funeral he'd arranged.
Cool story, isn't it? The Grateful Dead thrived on folklore, and the way their numbers grew over the years is the stuff that legends are made of. Their music was deeply rooted in folk history, and their renditions of old tunes ("Know You Rider," "Cold Rain and Snow,") ensure that these great songs will survive the centuries. They also covered their (relative) contemporaries, from Dylan to Buddy Holly. Then there are the songs that will always be only theirs - "Box Of rain," "Cumberland Blues," "Shakedown Street." The list could go on and on. Jerry was a diverse, talented string player in a variety of capacities, whether it was playing banjo for Old & In The Way, jamming live with the Dead or composing midi guitar sounds for the new Twilight Zone theme.
Of course, in recent years, not even music could hold Jerry. He printed lithographs of his artwork, sold a line of silk ties and even designed scuba equipment. Talk about a true renaissance man! And if he found time to get high, too, what business is it of yours and mine? Why does it matter?
The grateful Dead were primarily about music, but personal freedoms ran a close second. And being a free American citizen means being able to live your life as you please, as long as you don't hurt anyone else. I know the drug issue is a can of worms so big you need a chainsaw to open it so I'll refrain from trying to tackle the whole problem in this space, which is supposed to be dedicated to Garcia. But I still can't shake the voices I've heard in the last few days - "I never got into the band because I wasn't a druggie." Listen, you stodgy assholes - not everyone who listens to this band uses drugs everday! Some people actually don't use them at all - never did! There are also people who no longer imbibe for personal reasons, but don't get uptight when you blow a bone in their space!
That's the bottom line, right there. Don't judge me, but respect my ability to make my own deceisions, unless I am in serious danger of hurting myself or someone else. Treat me as you would like to be treated, and your good deeds will not go unrewarded. Life is not simple; it is full of snares and traps. It is full of evil, and you may easily meet your demise in the house of a friend if you are not careful. With happy-go-lucky parties come the days after, with their cleaning chores and hangovers that must be endured. For every action, there is a reaction. It's a basic law of physics. If there's one thing Jerry believed in, it was the laws of nature.
Jerry Garcia gave us a great volume of music to enjoy. Just think of all the bootlegs out there that you haven't heard yet! He's also given us al a reason to reflect on our own mortality and collect our thoughts, piece by piece, toward a better tomorrow and better selves. I may have bailed out on seeing Dead show in the last couple years, but the music and the values behind it still mean the world to me. Thank you, Captain Trips, and may you Rest In Peace for the longest, strangest trip of all.