Fare Thee Well – To the Band I Never Knew
Being born in 1991, I never had the opportunity to see a show by the legendary Grateful Dead. Although my parents are very much kids of that generation, they are no Deadheads, having only seen the band a few times; plus they were far out of the scene by the early 90’s anyway, so I wasn’t catching one fresh out of the oven before Jerry’s passing in ’95. With parents born in the early ’60s, coming up in NYC suburbia, the Grateful Dead and its culture were never too far off throughout my life. I have always had immaculate respect for the band as I’ve tried to understand what they had done and who they really were, to understand what they really meant to America and its culture.
As I reached my teens, I became more and more interested in the Grateful Dead and their unique playing style, or lifestyle rather. Now in my mid twenties and with a bigger interest in all music, I couldn’t wait for these final three shows in Chicago. Santa Clara was great fun as I listened to and enjoyed both nights but I knew they were going to take this thing to a whole other level in Chi-town.
I decided shortly after the raffle that I was not going to go to Chicago, although as the dates came closer I began to regret that decision more and more daily.
I had listened, again with audio only, on the 3rd and the 4th through a quality stream provided by mixlr.com account Phishfiend, who had upwards of 6,000 listeners tuned in at times throughout the weekend, but for the final show ever I needed to buy the stream.
In turn, I sat in my backyard with some good friends, friends whom I should have been in Chicago with, and watched the band of a generation go out with the guitarist of ours, Trey Anastasio.
Personally, I enjoyed the whole GD50 experience greatly from 800 miles away. From that distance it seemed Chicago stole Disney’s title of “Happiest Place on Earth” for the weekend. The weekend’s excitement for the Dead ignited a country on its birthday and made for some extremely memorable moments with an whole ton of extraordinary people.
Nostalgia set in as I couldn’t help but feel I had missed out. The weekend in Chicago? No big deal. Rather I longed to be one of those older Deadheads who looked deeply and sternly into the eyes of modern day society and said “No.” I longed to be one of those Heads who, through music, learned that experience holds more value than anything that can be purchased. I do not mean only those who toured with the band or those who lived completely free from any boundaries; yet I couldn’t be more envious of the Head who goes through the motions necessary in life, with a smile, knowing the secrets that the Grateful Dead raised them on, knowing the power and freedom of love.
Besides the Santa Clara two and the two previous at Soldier Field, I had never been alive (and over 4) while the Grateful Dead were playing a show on this beautiful rock we call Earth. It really got me thinking deeply about life, generations, changes. Just saying it, “The Grateful Dead,” throws a tingle in my senses as I think back to what these men have witnessed, as I think back to how popular those three words are and how they effortlessly span generations. Sure, there are plenty of side projects, and I can see some, if not most, of the members perform throughout summer, but this was different; this was a chance to catch a small glimmer into what the Grateful Dead means to this country and the lovely, unique individuals who raised my generation as the Dead wrote history just one last time.
I sat with people I love, and although we didn’t make it to Chicago, practically missed the whole Dead experience throughout the past 50 years,and will never witness a Grateful Dead show in our lives, it became very clear to us throughout the weekend that the Grateful Dead lies very, very deeply in all of us, and we might not have been missing as much of them as I had originally thought.
