Long and strange indeed...

There is one thing that I am certain of. It has been a long, strange trip. This tribute song to Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead is like a Where’s Waldo audio/visual search for the 65 references to lyrics, song titles, albums, and culture of the greatest live performance band of the latter part of the 20th Century and the early part of the 21st Century. Not only was the amazing music produced by the members of the band iconic for those attending, the ambience and counterculture of the scene outside the arena, amphitheater, concert hall, or campgrounds was like the background of a surrealistic David Lynch movie.

On December 1, 1968, I headed to the Grande Ballroom for the first time. The Grande was located on the east side of Detroit, an area where west siders seldom went. The purpose of the journey was to see a band that I had heard about but was unfamiliar with. Not knowing what to expect, as we waited in line outside the venue, we toked some potent Vietnamese marijuana, that someone had received in a letter from a relative who was stationed in the military there. Suffice it to say, after three long tokes, I was primed for a psychedelic musical experience.

When the doors finally opened, we trudged past the nominal pat down after showing our tickets to the long-haired grinning admission usher. The atmosphere was created by black lights all around and a glowing round silver ball chandelier hanging from the ceiling. As the MC introduced The Grateful Dead, the audience burst out with thunderous applause. They obviously knew what to expect. The band proceeded to play an uninterrupted three-hour flow of songs, sounds, and segues that carried the audience to elevated levels of audio expansiveness. At that point, I was hooked. After the show I resolved to see the band every time they would return to the Detroit area.

It took less than a year to see them perform again. This time in Ann Arbor where I was a student at The University of Michigan. This was a totally different scene filled with turned-on students grooving at Hill Auditorium, a concert hall known for its world-class acoustics. Although a non-smoking facility, for some reason the entire atmosphere was enveloped in a layer of sweet flowers being burned. Frisbees were flying and the maize and blue students were jumping and dancing on their seats and in the aisles. I remember thinking, “This band is even better then when I saw them last year!!”

My next encounter with Jerry and the rest of the group occurred March 13, 1971, at Jenison Field House located on the campus of Michigan State University. Some of my close friends were students there and they scored an extra ticket for me. Although MSU was the main rival university of my alma mater, I could not resist the siren song of the music performed by The Grateful Dead, It was quite a show. Sitting on rows of wooden benches waiting for the show to start. Doobies were being liberally passed around as if everyone were close friends, a giant rubber ball, about twenty feet in diameter, was being bounced all around the arena, to the glee of all, and of the anticipation of a tremendous musical experience caused a loud roar when the lights dimmed for the MC to walk to the microphone to introduce the band. At that time the song “Trucking” was already getting airplay on radio stations and when the first notes of that song began an even louder cheer shook the room. Once again, an exceptional show with a long afterglow.

Every time Jerry and the band returned to the Detroit area, in the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s, I would get a ticket and look forward to spending money like a drunken sailor on Shakedown Street, bring my harmonica and play along with the various jamming circles that surrounded the parking lot and areas around the venue before and after the shows. Once, I headed to Alpine Valley, Wisconsin, on a road trip to watch the band perform. Then on August 9, 1995, I was on a golf course in Toronto, Ontario. Someone told us the news of the death of Jerry Garcia. I could feel a cold wind blowing out a sparkling flame. The heart and soul of The Grateful Dead was gone. Resurrection followed as the new incarnation; Dead & Company, arose from the ashes. I have since then seen them every time they roll back into town.