So, a friend of mine wanted me to post a certain story on this blog. This is one helluva a story, if you ask me. It has gone down in the book of legends. It is the story of my last Grateful Dead show. (The horror)
Here we are, June of 1995. My roommie, Kevin and I are pretty damn serious deadheads. All we do is trade shows, go to shows, and constantly listen to shows. This run, that we are going to is in Washington, DC. It's a run of 2 consecutive nights, and we are hoping to get into both.
At that time, I was one broke motherfucker. In fact, I quit a job just to go to this run of shows. (And I am so glad I did) Personally, I have about $70 for the trip. Yikes. We forge ahead. We pack bananas and bread and peanut butter and jelly, and water. Bare essentials, folks. We set out north in the middle of the night.
I am driving through the northeastern part of Tennessee when I almost kill us. Whoever decided to put a 55 mph speed limit on a road that shoudn't have been more than 35 mph, is to blame. (It wasn't me, I swear! :) Of course, we don't die, and keep going.
When the sun rises, we are about halfway up the Blue Ridge mtns in Virginia. I am starting to get really excited! Almost there!
When we finally do roll into DC, we go to find a campground. I forget the name of the place we stayed, but it was pretty cool. We found our spot, and set up camp. We had some really cool neighbors that were all about some frisbee, and MGD, and homemade bongs. We met them and spent some "quality" time with them. They were to be our neighbors for the next few days. Then we decide to go to RFK. (which, unfortunately, no longer exists, neither does the Omni)
We make it throught the awful traffic of DC, and yes, we did flip off the IRS building and yelled "Fuck you!" Windows were open in the building so someone had to hear us. I am such a rebel!
We make it to RFK. Wow, this place is huge! We find our spot in the parking lot and set to procuring some tix to the show. It's raining, and generally a little miserable with the heat and humidity. In fact, a guy took a piss in the lake and lightning hit and and fucked him up! When we finally get to trying to find tix..... SOLD OUT. Fark! We scour all night until half the show is over, and by then we just resigned to being outside the show. The beauty of it was that we could still hear the show. Just from a bit of a distance.
Somehow, Kevin and I separated, and I met some really cool cats that smoked me down, and gave me some to take back with me. I still thank you to this day, beautiful stranger.
We are kinda bummed we didn't get in the first night. We go back to the campground after the show and hope for a better tomorrow. We party with our neighbors, and end up getting pretty fucked up (at least I did).
We wake up the next day, and have new hope. We set out early for RFK, hoping to get tix and not make this a wasted trip. Here's were we should've known better....
A young african-american approached us with two tix. They sure as fuck looked real enough. He was offering them at face value. We were so desperate that we were easily suckered. We tried to get into the show. A test that the guy did on the tix showed they were fake.
DENIED.
What the fuck? I traveled over 700 miles to not get in? I don't think so. Kev and I pondered for a bit what to do. For me, that was the last of my money. I had no choice. What I did next, I don't and never did feel right about. But I did it.
We decided to try to find a sucka as unsuspecting as us. And pass them off. We found a couple of yuppies and figured that they could AFFORD to buy another set, after they figured out the ones they got from us were fake. We found em. A young college age couple, very well dressed.
I did the deed, and sold them the tix, then hightailed it straight into a crowd of hundreds. I quickly changed shirts and even moved my car. Just in case. I felt like shit for doing it. But I had no other choice if I wanted to see the band. And well, hell, I didn't come 700 miles for nothing.
I will burn in hell for that later, I know it.
We ended up getting tix from the box office after that. It was a Sunday night for the 2nd show, and wasn't sold out. (We should've gone there first...but who knew) We're in! Woohoo!
So we enter the show, and find the sweet spot. Right beside the soundboard. That's where ya want to be if you want the goods. We are treated to an opening set by Bob Dylan. Then and interim, with Dylan and Garcia, most noteably playing Rainy Day Women 17 & 35.
EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED!
The night is wonderful. Of course, Vince Welnick sucks, but given that it was my absolute last GD Show, I am still in great appreciation of it. We got an awesome setlist, and some serious boogie on that night. What I will never forget is the encore. Brokedown Palace. Jerry's hair blowing in the wind. The sweet words cascading from him....the music in harmony with all. I cried. Somehow, I knew this was the last I would see of him. Somehow....
I don't even remember getting back to the campground, I just remember Jerry. .. Papa. Where have you gone? We need you!
As a side note, I do remember that earlier that day we had walked through a minefield of broken glass. I was barefoot, and luckily only got one piece in my foot. But I did dance in the mud barefoot all night, and never gave it a second thought. (Minor surgury was preformed 5 days later to get it out)
Imagine.....just for a bit, the breeze blowing, the sweet notes of Jerry's guitar, the burnt up voice of an old man, an old man that is our papa.
Fare you well, my honey,
fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing
are flown, except you alone.
Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and my knees,
I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed in
the waterside,
In my time, I will roll, roll roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside
I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
River going to take me,
sing me sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy
all the way back home.
Its a far gone lullaby,
sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come
since I first left home.
Goin home, goin home, by the riverside
I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river will roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well,
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
~Brokedown Palace
Grateful Dead
Here we are, June of 1995. My roommie, Kevin and I are pretty damn serious deadheads. All we do is trade shows, go to shows, and constantly listen to shows. This run, that we are going to is in Washington, DC. It's a run of 2 consecutive nights, and we are hoping to get into both.
At that time, I was one broke motherfucker. In fact, I quit a job just to go to this run of shows. (And I am so glad I did) Personally, I have about $70 for the trip. Yikes. We forge ahead. We pack bananas and bread and peanut butter and jelly, and water. Bare essentials, folks. We set out north in the middle of the night.
I am driving through the northeastern part of Tennessee when I almost kill us. Whoever decided to put a 55 mph speed limit on a road that shoudn't have been more than 35 mph, is to blame. (It wasn't me, I swear! :) Of course, we don't die, and keep going.
When the sun rises, we are about halfway up the Blue Ridge mtns in Virginia. I am starting to get really excited! Almost there!
When we finally do roll into DC, we go to find a campground. I forget the name of the place we stayed, but it was pretty cool. We found our spot, and set up camp. We had some really cool neighbors that were all about some frisbee, and MGD, and homemade bongs. We met them and spent some "quality" time with them. They were to be our neighbors for the next few days. Then we decide to go to RFK. (which, unfortunately, no longer exists, neither does the Omni)
We make it throught the awful traffic of DC, and yes, we did flip off the IRS building and yelled "Fuck you!" Windows were open in the building so someone had to hear us. I am such a rebel!
We make it to RFK. Wow, this place is huge! We find our spot in the parking lot and set to procuring some tix to the show. It's raining, and generally a little miserable with the heat and humidity. In fact, a guy took a piss in the lake and lightning hit and and fucked him up! When we finally get to trying to find tix..... SOLD OUT. Fark! We scour all night until half the show is over, and by then we just resigned to being outside the show. The beauty of it was that we could still hear the show. Just from a bit of a distance.
Somehow, Kevin and I separated, and I met some really cool cats that smoked me down, and gave me some to take back with me. I still thank you to this day, beautiful stranger.
We are kinda bummed we didn't get in the first night. We go back to the campground after the show and hope for a better tomorrow. We party with our neighbors, and end up getting pretty fucked up (at least I did).
We wake up the next day, and have new hope. We set out early for RFK, hoping to get tix and not make this a wasted trip. Here's were we should've known better....
A young african-american approached us with two tix. They sure as fuck looked real enough. He was offering them at face value. We were so desperate that we were easily suckered. We tried to get into the show. A test that the guy did on the tix showed they were fake.
DENIED.
What the fuck? I traveled over 700 miles to not get in? I don't think so. Kev and I pondered for a bit what to do. For me, that was the last of my money. I had no choice. What I did next, I don't and never did feel right about. But I did it.
We decided to try to find a sucka as unsuspecting as us. And pass them off. We found a couple of yuppies and figured that they could AFFORD to buy another set, after they figured out the ones they got from us were fake. We found em. A young college age couple, very well dressed.
I did the deed, and sold them the tix, then hightailed it straight into a crowd of hundreds. I quickly changed shirts and even moved my car. Just in case. I felt like shit for doing it. But I had no other choice if I wanted to see the band. And well, hell, I didn't come 700 miles for nothing.
I will burn in hell for that later, I know it.
We ended up getting tix from the box office after that. It was a Sunday night for the 2nd show, and wasn't sold out. (We should've gone there first...but who knew) We're in! Woohoo!
So we enter the show, and find the sweet spot. Right beside the soundboard. That's where ya want to be if you want the goods. We are treated to an opening set by Bob Dylan. Then and interim, with Dylan and Garcia, most noteably playing Rainy Day Women 17 & 35.
EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED!
The night is wonderful. Of course, Vince Welnick sucks, but given that it was my absolute last GD Show, I am still in great appreciation of it. We got an awesome setlist, and some serious boogie on that night. What I will never forget is the encore. Brokedown Palace. Jerry's hair blowing in the wind. The sweet words cascading from him....the music in harmony with all. I cried. Somehow, I knew this was the last I would see of him. Somehow....
I don't even remember getting back to the campground, I just remember Jerry. .. Papa. Where have you gone? We need you!
As a side note, I do remember that earlier that day we had walked through a minefield of broken glass. I was barefoot, and luckily only got one piece in my foot. But I did dance in the mud barefoot all night, and never gave it a second thought. (Minor surgury was preformed 5 days later to get it out)
Imagine.....just for a bit, the breeze blowing, the sweet notes of Jerry's guitar, the burnt up voice of an old man, an old man that is our papa.
Fare you well, my honey,
fare you well my only true one.
All the birds that were singing
are flown, except you alone.
Going to leave this brokedown palace,
On my hand and my knees,
I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed in
the waterside,
In my time, I will roll, roll roll.
In a bed, in a bed, by the waterside
I will lay my head.
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
River going to take me,
sing me sweet and sleepy,
Sing me sweet and sleepy
all the way back home.
Its a far gone lullaby,
sung many years ago.
Mama, mama many worlds I've come
since I first left home.
Goin home, goin home, by the riverside
I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
to rock my soul.
Going to plant a weeping willow,
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow.
Sing a lullaby beside the water,
Lovers come and go, the river will roll, roll, roll.
Fare you well, fare you well,
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs, to rock my soul.
~Brokedown Palace
Grateful Dead
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