Been a long time-o

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)

 

Fare thee What? Who?

I understand that many of us have long-term memory issues, but I was somewhat surprised at the short-term memory loss that many in our extended family seem to have. But then again, maybe I’ve got that backward. Some old Heads can remember the first song of the second set played at some civic center in East Podunk back in ’72, but we seem to forget the lessons of one month ago.

Yes, folks, just one month ago we convened in what seemed to me like the largest gathering of singular intent – to share the music we love with the people we love. We were all family, whether we knew each other or not.

I know every family has the crazy uncle who gets drunk at every gathering and waxes political using the saltiest language even in front of Nana, or the annoying bratty cousin, who rats you out for smoking a joint while walking the dog, but we are family nonetheless.

Today we were introduced to Dead and Company. Yay! Some of our favorite musicians playing our favorite tunes at one of our favorite venues! What could bad about that? Oh. Phil’s not there because he’s an indentured servant to Peter Shapiro at the Cap. Oh. Phil can’t sing. Oh. John Mayer sucks. Oh. They should never use the name Dead because Jerry is, well, dead.

So I was wondering. If we, as a community, are OK with bands like DSO, JRAD, Golden Gate Wingmen, even (or especially) Phil and Friends, why are people freaking out? Again? Did we learn nothing from Trey at Fare Thee Well? Don’t we know that the music plays the band? That talented musicians playing the music we love is an experience worth having?

But most importantly, where is the love? Where is the feeling that we took from Chicago? I love that we all have different ideas and different opinions. But let’s be kind. Mickey implored us to do so, but that’s not why. We need to be kind because that’s who we are.

My daughter and I are headed to where-the-hell-is-Arrington, VA to go to Lockn next month. The lineup of musicians is unbelievable and we cannot wait. And then you’ll find me at the Cap for Halloween and Phil. We are all blessed beyond belief that we can still hear this music performed by the boys who have been playing for us for 50 years. Honestly. What is there to complain about? Enjoy the ride folks!

Peace.

Love,

Meri (rhymes with Jerry)

Are You Kind?

After all the hype, hand-wringing, and hullabaloo, I can’t believe the Chicago shows are less than one month away. Good luck if you’re trying to score tickets today! But as think back to some Facebook comments and a new comment received here just this morning, I can’t help but feel like Rodney King when I say, “Can’t we all just get along?”

There are Trey haters. Phish-lovers haters. Haters of us old Deadheads and haters of young Deadheads. Personally, I think the haters are just generally misguided. I know in my heart that true Deadheads, of any age, aren’t haters of any kind. Do I wish Jerry was still around? Of course. I know the younger Heads wish they could have seen him, and for good reason. But it wasn’t meant to be.

But instead of name-calling and nastiness, how great would it be if the younger Heads didn’t disparage the older Heads for talking about our experiences, and the older folks were loving and accepting of younger Heads, even if they never saw the actual Grateful Dead. I’m hopeful that it can be done.

In addition to the music, and my 23-year-old daughter, this community keeps me going.  I know that true Deadheads are generous of spirit and soul (and various consumables), and they rise above the noise. True Deadheads are respectful, which is why it’s so disheartening to read some of the hateful things some younger Deadheads have written to me. I will never publish them, as I won’t be a forum for haters. Disagree all you want, but do so respectfully. [and yes … I know they’re younger when they call me old. Us older folks know better than to call anyone old!]

Nobody needs to justify or quantify their love for the Dead. But what each of needs to do is follow one simple rule: be kind. That’s pretty much the price of admission to this large, disparate, crazy community.

If you’re headed to Chicago, I hope it’s in the spirit of our Deadhead foremothers and forefathers. They created something real, something different, and something extraordinary that was born from the music but soars high above it as well.

Until next time, I’ll be searching for the sound.

-Meri (rhymes with Jerry)

JRAD? J-Bad.

My daughter and I saw Joe Russo’s Almost Dead at the Paradise Theater in Boston a couple of months ago. We had high expectations, knowing that Phil basically played bass for them at a recent New Year’s Eve show at the Cap. Plus, the outpouring of love and respect for them in various Facebook groups had us really psyched to see them.

But we left the show feeling extremely annoyed. But first, I’ll tell you what we liked. They are all really good musicians. They were tight, professional, and played some great music. I even give them credit for not simply imitating the Dead, but playing Dead music their way. They’re definitely a good band.

And that’s it. As good as they are, it’s like they’ve forgotten they’re really just a cover band. I found their long, drawn-out jams to be tedious and annoyingly self-indulgent. Keep the jams short and stay close to the melody. But they wandered off into territories they should never have ventured into. I’ll follow the Dead themselves along their circuitous jam routes, but not a cover band. And I found their “teases” to be ridiculously irritating. That’s where they’d tease a few notes or riffs of a song but never actually play it.

And I was totally annoyed when in the second set, they started The Wheel but never finished it. They went from The Wheel into Terrapin, which was great (aside from the too-long jam). Since the night was drawing to a close, you’d think they go back into The Wheel after Terrapin. But then they pulled out “At a Siding”! Even the Dead hardly ever played that. And that’s when we threw in the towel. The Dead almost always sewed up loose ends. No matter how far they strayed, they virtually always finished what they started.

And last but not least, Scott Metzger needs to learn the f**in words to the songs. We were standing not far from him on his side of the stage, and he looked down the entire time whenever he sang. He made zero eye contact during his songs. And since everyone else in the place knew every word to every song, the least he can do is learn the words. This is how he makes his living. This is his job. It’s not too much to ask. I don’t care if he forgets the words on occasion, but for goodness sake. Make an effort.

I go to several Phil shows a year, and I admit that I’m sometimes a tiny bit ambivalent. I pause and ask myself if I’m really just seeing a high-level Dead cover band, even if it does offer the gravitas of the incomparable Phil Lesh. But then the music starts and it’s so good and so much fun. But that’s a post for another day. Peace my friends.

-Meri (rhymes with Jerry)