Deadheads

I grew up with the Grateful Dead, sort of. I was introduced to them in college by these hippie-chicks that lived next door. We were friends and they always smelled like pachouli. They were cute and lovely in that hippie-chick way (that still turns me on). They were always off chasing the Dead around and at one point I was invited. They insisted I come, so I would know what it was all about.

It was a great learning experience. As it turns out, I was at the first concert the Grateful Dead had done in New Orleans in twenty years. Evidently they had been set up by the cops and busted in New Orleans, years ago, and vowed never to play there again. Rumor has it that the album "Working Man's Blues" was made to pay off New Orleans. So the Dead decided to play there again and I was there to see it.

I became a fan after that night, it was the best live music I had ever seen. I'm still a fan but this little tale isn't about me, it's about my friends on the West coast...

They had left the concert and for some reason were pulled over. They were sober but they were wearing tie-dye, so they looked pretty suspicious. They agreed to a search of their vehicle, they had nothing to hide. They thought they had nothing to hide. A copper turned up this little device that is used to squirt whipped-cream on to deserts. Evidently people can use those things to get high.

There was my buddy and his friend, they were sort of dumbfounded. One of the cops was holding the whipped-cream thingy in his hand and he said...
"This is evidence. This is evidence of drug use. If I didn't have this evidence we wouldn't even be talking right now."

My buddy D. looked at his buddy and said "Sometimes you have to grab the bull by the horns". He snatched the device out of the cop's hand and threw it as far as he could. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the cops told them to have a nice evening.

I relate this story because it is a good life lesson. When shit seems to be going just terribly wrong and you're not sure what to do, grab the bull by the horns.

I could write a book about my first Dead concert. At one point I was concerned that the collesium my fall to the ground due to the dancing, the whole building was shaking. After the concert we were locked out of our car because T. had lost her keys while dancing (attempting to bring the building down). There we were, with the cops hollering at us and threatening us, and I was the only voice of reason. There were spare keys in the trunk.

"If you open the door (to the cops) we can open the trunk. When we open the trunk we have our key. When we have our key we can leave." It was all so simple and I was tripping so hard I couldn't figure out why the rental cops were having a problem with the whole plan. It was all about the key, how much more simple can it get?

I felt like Timothy Leary talking about 'the key'. If you want us to leave you should open the door... We'll find the key, and then we'll leave. All of that finally happened.