There’s been a lot going on in my non-Dead-related life that has kept me away from my blog. It’s been hard to write anything without my brain taking an unscheduled, unannounced, and unwelcome detour in the process.

I’ve been thinking off and on about the Dead & Co. show in Woostah. And wondering why the hell they couldn’t drive 45 minutes further and play the Boston Garden. The upside is we found a bar near the venue selling Second Fiddle from Fiddlehead brewery. Not sure how they managed that, since we never see that beer outside of VT.

Shakedown was crazy. Clearly the cops got the message loud and clear to stay the fuck away. People were selling nitrous balloons everywhere. Cool people were selling very cool-looking pipes. Guys were selling mixed drinks out of large coolers. And my daughter bought a Heady Topper from a guy who, as it turns out, she knew from Burlington, VT where they went to school. Which is cool, because he sold it to her for $5 instead of $10. Whaaaat…? And we shared a yummy plate of homemade mac and cheese, which was lucky, because there was no edible food at the show.

And the show was great. While I’m not a John Mayer fan in general, I thought he was really good. Sugaree was crazy good. And clearly, Bobby has decided that he gives not one fuck whether women still find him attractive, what with his capris and sandals. I love you Bobby, but still …

As anyone who has been shows at venues large and small, I know you’ve been surrounded by cool people, straight people, drunk people, stoned/tripping people, loud talkers, loud singers, moms, dads, grandparents. Doctors, lawyers, and accountants. Babies and dogs.

But this night, I sat next to the worst guy. I almost felt bad for him, although he was so unbelievably, incredibly, insufferably irritating. He might have been on a first date, but whoever she was, she clearly had never seen the Dead, let alone ever listened to their music. And he felt he had to a)explain the meaning of every song, b)sing/say the lyrics to her before they were sung, c)explain the prevailing logic of what the band plays at various points in the show.

But it was during Peggy-O, one of my all-time favorite songs, that I really had to control myself. I love that song. I loved it when Jerry played it, when Phil & Friends, Ratdog play it. And when I heard Bobby sing it at Lockn. But NEVER have I heard someone dissect it, saying things like “O. Everything ends in an O. William-O. Soldiers-O. ” And on and on and on. He didn’t stop talking for the entire song.

I really wanted to tell him to chill out and let her listen to the music and come to her own conclusions about whether she liked it or not. I know how it is when we want people to like what we like, especially when we’re passionate about something. But she looked so irritated. Not sure if it was him or the show in general, but she wanted out. She was miserable. I really kept hoping she would make him leave. And he kept saying they’d leave after “the next song,” but they didn’t, because the next song was always killer. So they left with like one song left in the show. Which means they left before the Ripple encore, which was awesome.

So neither one of them got to enjoy the show, and that’s really unfortunate. But, more importantly, since this is my blog and my opinion, they irritated the fucking hell out of me.

But … there’s always next time. We’re seeing both Phil shows at the Cap in March. Just hope that crazy, tripped-out, sweaty Asian dude hangs out on the other side of the venue this time. 🙂

Peace.

Love,

Meri (rhymes with Jerry)