Tag Archives: jerry garcia

Time to Cry Tuesday – T-shirt Wisdom

This past weekend we went to a gathering that I would best describe as The Field of Aging Hippies. Some were authentic hangers-on of a nostalgic era, others just dusted off their tie-dye for the occasion, still others were young enough to be second (and third) generations lovers of the culture and the freedom it represented. But mostly it was a group of people brought together with the common bond of loving a genre of music.

This was Jerryfest, Long Island style. In celebration of Jerry Garcia‘s birthday (which is oddly almost 2 months ago) a group of local bands were assembled to play the sound that simply made all that were there feel good. We thought it would be a fun way to spend an indian summer Sunday with some friends and the musicians were surprisingly amazing.

One look at the crowd and you could see that life had not been so good to some of them, while others were doing just fine but still had that soft spot in their hearts for their coming of age sound. All ages, all shapes and sizes and some of the best T-shirts I have seen in a long time.

My favorite is the one above. Gotta love a kid with the First Amendment on his back. This guy looked to have been in diapers or not even born when Jerry died, but he surely embodied the spirit of the band’s culture.

This next guy wore a perfect blend of 2 passions – you have to love the Grateful Jets shirt he was wearing. Deadheads and football, how much more All American can you get?

Now this guy I like to call the Bourgeois Deadhead. The ‘I loved The Dead in College and now I summer in my beach house and listen to the Grateful Dead on Sirius/XM’ sort of guy.

And when all else fails, you can always let your freak flag fly like this guy. No matter the outfit, or the walk of life, the beauty of a day like this was a crowd of seemingly unrelated souls coming together to share a little joy.

What could be bad about that?

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Grateful Debt

Jerry Garcia AP photo

Jerry Garcia’s last home is up for sale at the cool price of $4 mil.

Ok so, I know I have 2 kids in college but I really want this house.

There was a facebook suggestion that we could turn this into the Touch of Grey Timeshare. (cool idea, Rina).

The previous owner sold many of the fixtures, including the toilet, to raise funds for charity. So if you were considering purchasing this place, keep in mind you will not be using the original American(Beauty) Standard crapper that Jerry did.

Dr. Jimmy? Chez Cortez West?

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Amy’s Pre-Grammy Day

In celebration of the Grammy’s, or perhaps because it was the last day of the exhibit and my sweet sister-in-law made sure that I would not miss something so wonderful before it was over, we went to the Brooklyn Musuem’s “Who Shot Rock & Roll” this afternoon.

I will tell you all that I am sorry the show closed today because anyone who is a true fan should be sorry that they missed this gem. (Dr. Jimmy, we missed you!) Along with some of the most memorable images of the past 50 years in rock and roll, the exhibit was peppered with treats such as a full wall of a lenticular Jimi Hendrix (this is the process like the old wink buttons where the image changes when you move around it) , Jerry Garcia and Mountain Girl, and a mosh pit shot that defied reality. Also, not to give Jimi too much weight, but there was a series of him burning his guitar at Monterey Pop that I really wanted to slip in my bag on the way out. Amongst the iconic shots like Bob Gruen’s John Lennon  in the NY T-shirt and images from rock photography greats like Danny Clinch and one of the world’s greatest photography talents, Richard Avedon, the show was more about the not so famous photographers. The men and women who never achieved great fame but shot those who did. I found their stories the most interesting.

As if this pre-Grammy day was not perfect enough, I drove home in time to hear Bob Dylan’s Theme Radio Show on XM and tonight’s theme was New York. Although I did not get to hear the whole show I did hear this: Duke Ellingtons, Take the A Train into Funky Broadway, not by Wilson Picket but Dyke & the Blazers, into a wonderful reading by Bob of Emma Lazurus’ The New Colossus (you know: Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, yadayadyada) into Lou Reed’s Dirty Blvd that parody’s that work. (Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I’ll piss on ’em
that’s what the Statue of Bigotry says. Your poor huddled masses, let’s club ’em to death and get it over with and just dump ’em on the boulevard.)
Not gonna lie, had that one cranked up to window rattling levels. Always been a sucker for Lou Reed.

All in all, I go to bed tonight a happy camper. Sometimes the week beats the crap out of us. If we can rejuice with what we love on the weekend we wake up Monday with a better attitude and the skill set to try again.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Time to Cry Tuesday – Not Dead Yet

grateful-dead

“Look at these pictures of my son, Jerry Garcia Friedman”. 

That was a comment from a women who was sitting near my friends as they waited for us to arrive at The Dead concert Saturday night at Madison Square Garden. 

Can’t make this stuff up.

There were those who scoffed at the idea of seeing The Dead sans Jerry Garcia. I could have leaned towards that camp but the desire to ‘go home again’ outweighed the purist in me. Perhaps he was there in spirit in the baby pictures of that old deadhead sitting behind my friends. Or maybe, just maybe, he was channeling through Warren Haines every so often.

Let’s face it. We all have the rhythms and melodies of our adolescence. The songs that can bring a tear to our eyes our a devilish grin to our faces. For some of us (and you know who you are Karen) it is Barry Manilow. For others (who are still friends with you in spite of that) it would be the cosmic meanderings of a good Dead song.

We are a tribe of sorts. We all went our separate ways but somehow that music makes us feel better when we hear it. And for those who are fortunate to have passed the love on to our kids, the bond gets stronger.

A few observations, some mine, some quoted from others.

“A Dead show is like going to Synagogue (fill in your religious affiliation). I don’t know if I necessarily believe, but I feel like I belong there”. That was from Dave. Very profound, my friend.

“I felt like I was eating the leftovers of a really amazing meal.” This one was from my son!! He was too young to have ever seen Jerry but he had to see what was left of the band. That 4th grade teacher had it right when she called him the happy go lucky deep thinker. Anyone steals that line and I will hunt you down. Not just because I am his mother, I think that line was brilliant.

Ok, here is the part where if you are not a Grateful Dead fan you may want to get a cup of coffee and move along.

Something that is NOT ok for a set list: Albama Getaway into Dark Star (what were they thinking?). Thank goodness they did not play that on Saturday.

Starting the second set with a 35 minute space Jam (oh excuse me Rhythm Devils) into Cryptical into Other One into Born Cross-eyed into St. Stephen was a bit too much. This was all a space head’s fantasy but this crowd was bored and talking. You can do that in the middle of set but to start, not so much. Almost a solid hour of way out there, even for someone who loves the sound. 

What has NOT changed about a DEAD show? Tie dye, old hippies, dread locks, clouds of pot smoke, girls in long patchwork skirts (where do they pick them up nowadays), taking an 8-year-old is still a bad idea no matter how much you want to share with your kid and even if you have the most amazing seats (second row on the side of corner stage) the biggest, dancingest guy will always sit in front of you causing you to have to stand the entire show.

What HAS changed: most people had to take out their glasses to read their tickets.

All in all, I would say for a few brief hours I did go home again. Like Dave, I don’t know why but I just felt like I belonged.

And in these times there is nothing wrong with a little comfort food for the soul.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Pigpen and the chihuahua, separated at birth?

cats-and-dogs_with-gd

For those who missed yesterday’s post, the picture on the left was featured there. In the comments, Dr Jimmy mentioned the Grateful Dead resemblance in this line-up, with Pigpen being the chihuahua.

Since many of you are not Dead fans, I thought I would post the inside flap of the Skull and Roses album with the picture he referenced (and so graciously sent me a link to). Thanks Dr. J – what slow day drilling today?

El Nel informed me that she cracked up when she saw the pet picture as it is featured everyday in Newsday. Being in suburban denial I refuse to read this Long Island newspaper even though it is quite good. (BTW, I moved out of the city 20 years ago.) The ad is for the North Shore Animal League if you were wondering.

Back to the photo. Take a look at the guy in the middle (Pigpen) and tell me this is not a separated at birth scenario. 

Just plain scary!

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at Mid-Century Modern Moms and at 50-Something Moms Blog where Jana joins in the election bloglove.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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