I wasn't supposed to go. We all know that I was not going to Las Vegas. Sphere or no Sphere. I have been to more Grateful Dead shows than I can even count. No matter what witchery and magic they concocted inside that ball, I was pretty darn certain it was not going to conjure up anything I had to experience.
Then the phone (no really THE PHONE) rang. The best of the best of my deadhead friends was on the other end and he insisted that we had to go. He was so fired up and I love him to pieces and well before I knew it I was headed to Las Vegas. I still had pretty low expectations, I'm not going to lie. Remember, Jerry is dead. Dead and Company is, quite honestly, the best Grateful Dead cover band ever assembled. It is NOT the Grateful Dead.
My biggest surprise when I got to Las Vegas was how very many deadheads I met who have never actually seen the Grateful Dead. They have only seen Dead and Company. I also met so very many folks this weekend who were attending their very FIRST show. Mind blown. I mean this sincerely. I would hug them and welcome them to the family.
Here's the thing those of you who have not met me need to know about me: I am extraordinarily curious and I will talk to absolutely anyone. I will find out who your grandfather is and where you went to kindergarten and what kind of pizza you love best and also if you ever have visited the White House? If I find out this is your FIRST show? I'm going to dig deeper and sort out how you learned about the Grateful Dead and who is responsible for you showing up and then I'm going to try to thank that person for sharing the music with you. The first night I was in the Sphere, I met this beautiful man named Christopher Robin. His nickname is BEAR. I actually already have a friend named Christopher Robin, so I had to chat with BEAR about THAT, but also all about his life as a father, a deadhead, an environmental scientist, and the fires in Maui. See? I can't just stop at..."Hi, have a good show..." I spent time talking and chatting with the staff at the Sphere (this is something I also do at every *show*) and I thanked them for the amazing job they all did.
I won't continue to bore you with all the conversations I had over the course of the four days I found myself in Vegas, but there were a lot. I used all my words. I hugged a lot of people. I made a lot of new friends. I ran into a lot of OLD friends. I couldn't believe it. Sometimes I felt as if I was some sort of princess who had been put under a spell and woken up 35 years later. You were there and you were there and YOU were there, too. It was like I had stepped right back into my spot and never actually left.
Thursday evening found us in section 104. Unobstructed view. The stage was right there. The sound was off the charts. The graphic experience was, well, just insane. I kept thinking about Jerry Garcia and right now you're going to have to indulge me for a moment because I may have shared this story before, but I need to share it again just so you all can understand why it hit my little heart so hard.
In the summer of 1990, I had dinner with Bob Weir and Jerry Garcia. (I KNOW!!!). I sat next to Jerry and across from Bobby. (I KNOW!!!). Jerry arrived late to the dinner because he was at Silicon Graphics. I gave him a hard time for being late, but then I also was very curious what he was doing there? I asked him if he was cooking up a new guitar sound or something? He then shared with me that Silicon Graphics had put him a complete Virtual Reality suit. Jerry was giggling and his eyes were sparkling as he told me about being a LOBSTER. "Jen, I was a lobster on the bottom of the sea! A LOBSTER!! With real claws. I was snapping at fish. I was blowing bubbles. I was looking up at the top of the water. It was better than ANY drug!" I asked him if I could go do this? (Remember it was 1990!). Like the Wizard of Oz he looked at me over his glasses and said, "No way, no how! This is something special!" Then he just kept giggling. He was beside himself with glee. And I really couldn't blame him. He was SPECIAL.
So is the SPHERE. It's special. Jerry would have loved it. I kept imagining him up on stage fiddling with things and thinking to himself, "What happens if I push THIS button?!?" Not to spoil anything for anyone, but there's a visual segment where we are all together under the sea and, well, I know Jerry would have loved it. I have to believe if he were STILL alive (and we did talk about this a lot amongst ourselves this weekend) that the Grateful Dead would STILL be doing its thing. Maybe not touring extensively all over the place all the time, but playing is what Jerry (like Bobby) had to do. It was his lifeline.
The band chose to honor Bill Walton that night in an incredibly meaningful and emotional way and every person in the Sphere was included. I wandered out of Thursday night's show gobsmacked that we still were going to get to see two more.
Friday night found us in Section 205 and at this point I knew that what we were there for was a total immersive selection of our favourite dead songs played live with our entire family. What I wasn't expecting, though, was that Bobby was going to take me to church. I've sometimes explained moments of dead shows in that way and on this night, he chose to do just that. Stella Blue made me a puddle on the floor. It was damn near perfect. The whole experience soaked its way into the cells in my body and I remembered, really remembered, who I am. You guys...this was medicine of the very best kind. The woman who has been languishing really NEEDED this and I had no idea that it was exactly this medicine that I've been missing the most.
I fluffed the people around me with pizza during set break and I swear to all that is holy that they had no idea what on earth happened? None. I'm pretty certain they're still confused and wondering about that crazy lady who just appeared with the pizza and then vanished.
Later that evening...much later...we found ourselves back in our apartment and it was nearly three in the morning and I turned to TB and said, "How the fuck did we do this all the time? Do you realize that right about now we'd be piling in the car to DRIVE to the next venue? My body hurts. I can barely walk. My head is spinning like I'm Linda Blair in the Exorcist!" And TB just smiled. He knew. He knew his work was done. He had given me exactly what I needed the most. ME.
Saturday arrived and TB and I found ourselves in the middle of the Venetian trying to find our way to an art gallery show and I ran smack into Jonathan Van Ness of Queer Eye and I couldn't help it, I told him I was surprised to see him there, I hugged him (with consent) and wished him a HAPPY PRIDE. What I do wish is that I had asked him about my hair, but in retrospect I'm sure he would have had a lot to say and probably would have even more to say about my lack of skin care routine. Onward. The gallery show proved to both of us that old and new deadheads still have lots of dollars to spend on the little things (and the big things) and everything in between.
By the time I got to the Sphere on Saturday night, I really thought I had used all my words. I also did not realize how emotional I would be standing in General Admission on the floor. I was once again in awe of the amount of new family friends who were there to experience the band for the very first time in their lives. Traveling from distant shores to be standing right there simply because. Wow.
If I'm going to be at a Grateful Dead show, a proper one, I'm going to be on the floor, somewhere on the rail. Bobby is going to spit on me. It's an honor to say that.
There I was. There they were. A band beyond description. Like Jehovah's favorite choir. I forgot about the time. Saturday night at the sphere was pure unadulterated magic. Every single note, every single memory, every single emotion, every single every THING just blissed together and I will never ever be quite the same. To the other 18,000 people who were there creating that alchemy....Thank you. You are kind.
I have no regrets. The shape of my heart has changed. Better days are definitely ahead. xo
