If you're a regular reader of Nakedjen, you know that I'm a Deadhead. You also know that I keep telling everyone who will listen that I am no longer on the bus. That try as I may, and I gave it quite the valiant effort, what remains of the Grateful Dead is just not the same for me now that Jerry is no longer with us. The magic is just not there. The notes that tingle my spine, that make me groove in a way that sometimes most certainly mimics my own epileptic seizures, just don't come from any other guitar. The concert is over. The song is sung.
This past Sunday, DearSweetDave, Buddha and Stella and I went to a free concert at Golden Gate Park called Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. It just so happens to be one of the benefits of living in the Bay Area. We pay dearly for living here. Our houses by the sea cost more than just about any other houses in any other place in America. But thanks to kind Uncle Warren and his love for Bluegrass, every October we're all treated and treated very well to some mighty fine music and it doesn't cost us a dime.
It goes without saying that nearly everyone and their brother shows up. And in the Bay Area, for those of you who do not live here, EVERYONE is your brother. Because we're all family, man.
It was crowded. DearSweetDave and I found a nice shady spot under a tree at the Rooster Stage where we parked ourselves with the intention of camping out for the days festivities. However, we did have the dogs. Who we left in their kennel on wheels, otherwise known as Wanda.
Now before all of you animal rights activist types go all nuts on me for leaving the dogs in the car for the day while we were attending a concert in the park, let me assure you that they had a) plenty of fresh air since the roof comes OFF THE CAR, b) were parked in a breezy shady spot, c) had toys and lots of water and d) had me walking back to check on them and let them out to play and pee. They were happy. No worries about Buddha and Stella. Perhaps they may have been a smidgen happier if they had gotten to go "into" the concert, but honestly, with crowds like that and all the OTHER dogs that were there...most likely NOT. These dogs are not deadheads. They haven't grown up on tour (like Clyde did) and they are not quite used to large hordes of people swirling and swaying about. In fact, I think Stella would have found those crowds just a tad too over-stimulating. Hanging in the shade in the car with her big fat bone was just fine with her, thank you very much.
Still, I was determined to make sure that they got pee breaks and some play time. This meant that I'd walk back to the car from our own shady spot at the Rooster Stage to check on them. This was not a "short" jaunt. All roads leading to the actual concert were closed so we had to actually park quite a way away from the actual event. But I had brought the dogs. I wasn't going to just abandon them.
After Elvis Costello and T-Bone Burnett finished their set, I told DearSweetDave that I was going to go check on the dogs and also get myself something to eat. Again, because this is San Francisco, the food vendors offered not only your usual fare of hot dogs and kettle corn, but also organic vegan raw pizza and vegetarian world wraps! Did I mention there's a reason we all pay so dearly for our postage stamp size properties here? I think I did.
I headed off and found the dogs snoozing away in the car. I actually woke them up. I let them out and after making sure they did their business and got a chance to run around a bit, put them back in the car with a few more treats (organic carrots for everyone!) and freshened up their water. And then I headed back to the concert. When I got there, I went to the food booths that were situated closest to the Banjo Stage as they seemed to have the most offerings.
I was standing in front of Lydia's Raw Food checking out the menu when I swore that I heard Bob Weir singing Jack Straw. My thought process, quite honestly, was exactly this:
"Hmm...raw vegan pizza. I wonder what that...God, that sounds just like Bob Weir singing Jack Straw. I wonder who is playing their iPod so loudly?"
It's important to remember that this concert was in Golden Gate Park. In the exact location where many, many, many moons ago I had seen the Grateful Dead play. Where I had heard Bob Weir sing.
With absolute positive proof that you can take the girl out of the Dead, but you can never take the Dead out of the girl, the next thing I knew I was standing smack dab in front of Bob Weir and he was belting into the microphone, "Jack Straw from Wichita cut his brother down!"
I honestly have no idea how I got there. The last thing I remembered was contemplating that organic raw vegan pizza. But my little deadhead feet and my big fat deadhead heart must have heard that music and carried me home.
I was completely startled from my reverie by my cellphone ringing.
It was DearSweetDave.
"Where are you?"
"I'm standing in front of Bob Weir! He's singing Jack Straw! Only, I'm not exactly sure how I got here. There's lots of pot smoke and people swirling all about! It's like a time warp! Man Bobby looks OLD. He looks like Santa!"
"Are you really right in front of him? Isn't it crowded? How did you get up there?"
"I'm not sure, exactly. I was looking at the food choices, I heard him singing and then the next thing I knew, I was standing right here!"
"Are you okay? Are you sure you didn't astral project or something?"
"No, no. I'm fine. But this is a trip. I feel like I'm flashing back. I've definitely been here before!"
"Do you want to stay. You can just come back over here when he's finished."
"Oh no. I don't need to stay. I've been here, done this. But wow. I guess you really can't take the dead out of the girl!"
And so as the band, which was definitely HOT by the way and Bob should consider playing with them on a regular basis, started playing their next tune, I found my way back to the Rooster Stage and DearSweetDave.
I had to just giggle about the whole thing. I mean, really. I'm done with telling all of you I'm off the bus. I don't think I can actually GET OFF THE BUS. I think I've got a permanent ticket to ride. And I should just sit back and enjoy it.
