Grateful (as in dead)

Sometimes music is your best friend. Sometimes listening to a favorite song can take you places that you forgot all about. It's like smell....a whiff of freshly cut grass...all the long, lazy summers of your childhood....that kind of stuff, right? Music is a true friend. It always remembers and never tells. It replays the truth of a private reality which we can fully indulge.

The kids always ask me, "who is your best friend?" and while I've had and do have wonderful relationships in my life, I always answer, "Daddy." And I feel pretty grateful that after 16 years of marriage I can honestly answer that their dad is my best friend. But music, ahhhh music. That's a different matter. We all have songs that can absolutely transport us; the theme song from the ninth grade dance (Stairway to Heaven in my case...I know), first concert (Doobie Brothers), first love (Dylan....I know, I know). So of course, being of a particular age and particular time, I had a long and exciting love affair with the Grateful Dead. The thing with a band like the Dead that's been around for so long, there is always someone who was "there" at the beginning. But no matter when you connect, your memories are still sweet. I've sat on the floor of a tiny bar in Palo Alto watching the Jerry Garcia Band. And I've seen them at Soldiers Field. Small venue, large, Golden Gate Park, Wembley Arena in London....The Greek Theatre, Berkeley. Good times.

So the reason for all this nostalgia is, quite oddly, Dan picked up a Best of the Dead cd at Starbucks (go figure), and brought it home as a gift. At first I was like, "have you seen the boxes of bootlegs in the basement?" Because when you move you are forced to deal with all the "treasures", you have socked away. Between his vinyl and my cassettes, we need a three car garage. But I didn't say anything about my extensive collection, I just said, "thank you" and put it on the stereo. And something really cool happened. I remembered it all... every great Dead adventure throughout high school and college and after. How sad that I'd forgotten. I don't indulge in nostalgia much but it can be fun, and as I was dancing with the kids, I just felt grateful.

Once, when Dan was on a shoot, I flew out to LA to meet him for the weekend. We planned to relax all weekend at the Four Seasons. Dan bought Dead tickets for Saturday night. After a long day at the pool, I was racing to get ready for the show. I hurried to the elevator, frantically pressed the button, hopped into a full elevator, occupied by.... Jerry! Now I'm sure everyone has their story of "a brush with fame" or whatever, but I was stunned. Me and Jerry, in an elevator, on the way to his show....and all I could think was "hey, I'm not late." I wish I could tell you that I did something awesome. I didn't. I smiled politely and said "hi" to him and his wife, then we all disembarked to meet the valet. I didn't ask for his autograph or a ride to the show or anything but I have my little moment with Jerry. So when I'm sitting and listening to all those familiar and loved songs, I wish I would have said "hey man, your music is so happy, so comforting, so fun ... it's like a best friend."