Jeremy Bitner had pulled over Kevin Montoya for a traffic stop early Monday morning. Both were hit by a suspected drunk driver and Bitner passed away later that day.

Montoya is now out of the hospital and resting at home, recovering and also requesting privacy as he gets better. Montoya’s family said they plan to attend Bitner’s funeral.

At the Englewood Police Department flag were flying at half staff in memory of the first officer killed in the line of duty in the department’s history.

[worldnow id=7346355 width=420 height=278 type=video]

“You’ve got these kids, 9 and 7 I believe it is, who have to grow up without their father,” said Mike Adams, Montoya’s cousin.

Bitner was not only a father of two, but a husband. And now he’s a man that Adams will think about daily.

“I’m so sorry about ya’ll’s loss,” he said.

Kevin Montoya (credit: The Montoya Family)

Adams said in a matter of seconds one crash caused three families a lifetime of pain.

“He was just trying to do his job and someone made an irresponsible choice,” Adams said.

Montoya was being issued a ticket by Bitner while pulled over on sounthbound Broadway. Both were standing near the patrol car when police say Conner Donohue, 20, hit them. Police say he was drunk.

Conner Donohue (credit: Colorado State Patrol)

“The kid took off and didn’t even stop,”said Robert Hunter, Montoya’s uncle.

Hunter was in Montoya’s car at the time and witnessed the crash.

Montoya’s grandmother, Val Kermmoade, believes there are other people who should now be part of the police investigation.

“Someone contributed that kid some liquor somewhere. He got that liquor somewhere and I think they need to find out,” Kermmoade said. “There is a third party out there responsible for this as well.”

“He was a class act, and a fine officer,” Englewood Police Chief John Collins said of Bitner.

Fellow Englewood police officers are wearing memorial bands across their badges for Bitner.

Adams says his family plans to attend the services and meet the officer’s family left behind from one crash that took only second to change so many lives.

“I can only imagine the pain that the kids and the wife are going through,” Adams said.

“Kevin feels bad about everything too. I told him, ‘Don’t blame yourself, it’s not your fault,’ ” Kermmoade said.

CBS4 has put in numerous requests for an interview with Donohue, who is still in jail. He’s declined all the requests. On Friday Donohue’s charges will be upgraded.

Services for Officer Jeremy Bitner will be June 1 at the Denver First Church of the Nazarene, 3800 E. Hampden Ave. at 1 p.m.

Following the Church service the Police procession will travel to the Fort Logan Cemetery for the 3 p.m. interment.

A Memorial Fund has been established for the Jeremy Bitner family, for those who wish to make a donation please forward to the following locations:

The Officer Jeremy Bitner Memorial Fund
The Belco Credit Union or any Public Service Credit Union, account number #591654637.
Donations can also be mailed to:
The Belco Credit Union
c/o Officer Jeremy Bitner Memorial Fund
P.O. Box 17000
Denver, CO. 80217-7000

O is for old loves.

P is for praising the Lord, which is what Donna does a lot of now. She is a Southern Girl, and when one of them goes astray–and allowing Keith to timorously mount her from behind (it was always from behind; Keith would get all sideways on you if you tried to go face-to-face) is the definition of going astray–she goes back home, and  back to Jesus. Exactly how mired in sin she has become is measured by whether she gives Jesus a loving hug or just tackles the fucker like Ray Lewis. Actually, think about the actual Ray Lewis. Actually. For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction, right? So, the way that woman loves Jesus now, she must have gotten up to some Billy-level bullshit back then.

Q is for quality, as in this ten-minute plus Casey Jones from 10/2/77 at the Paramount Theater in Portland, OR, where Garcia pulls a Bobby on the lyrics and just tells the lyrics, “Fuck you, lyrics: I’m Garcia,” and then he goes and Garcia-s all over the place for five minutes or so and he realizes the sheer volume of Garcia he’s placed around the room and just goes, “Keith, take one.” Garcia was the most interesting man in the world.

R is for Robert Hunter, who put the words in the right order. Even his goofiest, most floweriest poweriest songs show a love of and fascination with myth and America and Miss America (people got paid off) that all other ninny chants of the Bay Area lacked. The Dead’s first genius move was Hunter, by the way. They realized the commonest way of assigning the songwriting-singer writes the words–had a whole bunch of fairly self-evident flaws. James Hetfield sings for Metallica, and thus writes the lyrics. He once wrote a song called Trapped Under Ice, which you might imagine is a metaphorical snapshot of a man under strain, under pressure. No, he is merely and only under ice. There has been a winter-related accident and now a man is literally trapped under actual ice. The Dead chose to hire a poet.

S is for soup, which was a sacrosanct moment in the Dead’s working day. Soup, it was believed, kept you hale and hearty; never a day would pass without the bowls being passed. Every day, the bowls were passed. Bean or pea-based, chowders of all sorts. All locally sourced, far before hipster weenies who live next to Santa Claus thought of it. Each of the band and crew had their own spoon. The spoons cost two grand apiece. Every day, the bowls were passed and life would slow down, slow down for soup.

T is for transitions, such as this China>Rider from 6/22/73 in Vancouver, which is the capital of Canada. At 7 minutes in, Keith softly pads the Uncle John’s Jam chords that were the hallmark of this greatest of all Dead transitions. Those ethereal, infinitely descending chords and if you were lucky, Garcia would top the whole thing off with a little I’ve Been Working on the Railroad. Going northbound, I suppose.  In his invaluable book, Dead to the Core, Eric Wybenga* notes that one is either a Scarlet>Fire  or a China>Rider and, as you might guess from the title of the book, he declares himself the former. Not me, but his theory reminds me of one of my own..

U is for UnSub, which is a word on those creepy murder shows that women seem to love. A theory: all people are either serial killers or spree killers. Serial killers kill people in secretly for years. Spree killers lose it in a Sports Authority. Garcia and Bobby were serial killers. Mickey was spree, but Billy was serial. Phil was the definition of a spree killer.

V is for Vince, whom no one liked. The others were unkind to him, reforming as “the surviving members of the Dead” without him. A few years later, he would prove them right, but with all due resquiet in pace, the guy wasn’t very good. Prone to high-end tinkling, not particularly adept at soloing, emasculated from the get-go by Hornsby’s presence, AND saddled for some reason by Bralove with the worst sounds. Vince’s playing always resonated at what must be the human equivalent of a dog whistle: it was piercing. His songs were worse than dreck, simply stopping shows in their tracks. They were all in bad shape after Brent died, physically, morally.  But they learned the lesson of overpaying your crew AND giving them a full vote.: they will be sending your ass back to Oklahoma in March, no matter how dead certain people claim to be.  So, they got the guy from the Tubes because he was available.

W is for Winterland. Do you have the run from the ’73 box set? The ’77? The Farewell Shows out-of-their-gourds electricity of closing night? The From Egypt with Love shows? It’s where Frampton Came Alive and Johnny Rotten summed it all up when he asked if we ever felt cheated. It’s condos now. Better, less crime, they say.

X is for X-Men, who got Bobby into trouble this one time. In the 70′s, the X-Men comic had become popular, with no one more so than Bobby. He gobbled down each new issue. Sometimes he would buy and read the same issue three or four times, once for each airport, but he always had the same look of glee when he read–well, it was more looking really hard at the words than reading, really–the latest exploits of Wolverine and Bug Face and Mister Mess Yo Pants.

When Bobby left the hotel that night, he had nothing on him that a normal man wouldn’t: pack of gum, couple of joints, four ounces of cocaine, and five thousand dollars in cash. But the night called to him, to protect a world that feared and hated him. Bobby strolled down the sidewalk, walking straight at some young ruff-tuffs except Garcia had sent Billy to protect Bobby, so Billy jumped out from behind a garbage can and performed what he liked to call the Kill Bill Bill Kill, wherein he jabbed your scrote so fast (but with demonic force) that you didn’t know what had happened. You would wander away, confused. “What just happened? Did I see Billy? If I saw Billy, then–hurrrrg” because at that point, you’ve realized that Billy has taught your crotch the Truth. Bobby knelt before it.

Then Billy kicked the living shit out of the kids, who weren’t really bad kids, and not especially tough, either. But Billy played drums and Billy punched dicks. That’s what Billy did.

Y is for yurt, which is what Mickey lived in for a year trying to master the nomadic beats of the Mongolian Quakers of Iceland, who were the most ethnic people Mickey could find, being that Google maps hadn’t been invented yet. One of the many (suspiciously many, some might say) oddities of the MQ of I is that in their culture, it is the beats that are nomadic, not the people. The people actually lived in tidy little Cape Cods around a lake; Mickey just wanted to live in a yurt. In a nomadic beat, the One constantly migrates, based on a system of biorhythms, astrology, astronomy, rollin’ dem bones, and a touch of making it up as you go. They said this with a straight face to Mickey and he ate that shit right up. Most reasonable observers, however, would quickly have come to the conclusion that these people were fucking with Johnny Can’t Sit Still over there. The album was not even recorded, yet still lost $350,000.

Z is for zebra, which is an animal that Brent used to dress up as so he could engage in frottage with possibly women in badger costumes.

* Seriously, go buy this man’s book. It is awesome in the biblical sense where you are actually filled with awe and drop to your knees begging for your life. It is that good.

My paternal 2nd great grandparents

MRIN-5

Jasper Chaffins

• Also (and often) known as “Bird” Chaffins
• Born: Oct 1866 in Knott County, Kentucky
• Married: Judith Hunter on 30 Dec 1890 in Floyd County, Kentucky
• Married: Mary Ellen Tuttle about 1906
• Married: Amanda Howard on 14 Jun 1909 in Knott County, Kentucky
• Died: 04 Mar 1941 in Boleyn, Knott County, Kentucky
• Buried: The Chaffins Family Cemetery in Rock Fork, Garrett, Floyd County, Kentucky
• Age at death: 74 years old
• Cause of Death: Heart Failure
• Parents: Samuel Nelson Chaffins and Nancy Jane Sutton

Judith Hunter

• Also known as Judy or Juda
• Born: 17 Jan 1855 in Kentucky
• Married: James Conley on 23 Jan 1885 in (possibly) Breathitt County, Kentucky
• Married: Jasper “Bird” Chaffins on 30 Dec 1890 in Floyd County, Kentucky
• Died: 15 Apr 1905
• Buried: The Chaffins Family Cemetery in Rock Fork, Garrett, Floyd County, Kentucky
• Age at death: 50 years old
• Cause of Death: unknown. Kentucky was not required to keep vital records when she died. No death certificate has been found for her as of yet. No record may exist.
• Parents: Robert Hunter and Elizabeth Sizemore

Their Children

1. Harry Lee Chaffins (1891-1941)
2. Isaiah “Zeer” Chaffins (1895-1974)
3. Richard Chaffins
   • Born: 10 Jul 1897 in Knott County, Kentucky
   • Died: 14 Apr 1920 in Ashland, Boyd County, Kentucky
   • Buried: The Chaffins Family Cemetery in Rock Fork, Garrett, Floyd County, Kentucky
   • Age at Death: 24 years old
   • Cause of death: Cirrhosis of the liver 
   • Other: I don’t believe that Richard ever married or had children. I’ve never seen a picture of him and I don’t know that one even exist. The only description that I can find of him comes from his WWI Draft Card. It states that he was tall and slender with dark brown eyes and light brown hair.

Bird’s other spouses and children

• Spouse #2: Mary Ellen Tuttle
• Born: 12 May 1882 in Floyd County, Kentucky
• Married: Jasper “Bird” Chaffins about 1906
• Died: 27 Jul 1907
• Buried: The Chaffins Family Cemetery in Rock Fork, Garrett, Floyd County, Kentucky
• Age at Death: 25 years old
• Cause of Death: unknown
• Parents: Thomas C. Tuttle and Hannah Collins
• Other: Mary Ellen died within a year after she and Bird married. I have not been able to locate a death certificate for her. Kentucky was not required to keep vital records at the time of her death, so there may not be a record anywhere. There were no known children from this marriage.

• Spouse #3: Amanda Howard
• Born: about 1891 in Kentucky
• Married: Mr. Mans (first name is unknown). She had one child from this marriage, a son named, Wesley Mans, born Feb 1909 (4 months before she married Bird Chaffins)
• Married: Jasper “Bird” Chaffins about 1906 (1 child – see below)
• Died: after 1941
• Buried: unknown
• Parents: unknown

Children of Bird Chaffins and Mandy Howard

1. Bertha Chaffins (1911-????)

Sources: Coming Soon

The line of demarcation separating the 1960s from the ’70s couldn’t have been more pronounced with regard to Grateful Dead albums.

The four LPs the band released on Warner Bros. Records from 1967-69 – “The Grateful Dead,” “Anthem of the Sun,” “Aomoxoa” and “Live/Dead,” presented the Dead in all its psychedelic glory. That’s fine for fans who are in a certain frame of mind, but some of the recordings aren’t all that accessible for the average listener.

With “Workingman’s Dead,” released in June 1970, the Dead showed it was capable of producing relatively succinct tunes with discernible melodies. Songs like “Uncle John’s Band” and “Casey Jones” became staples on FM radio, opening up the band to a wider audience.

“American Beauty,” which came out in November of the same year, sees the band continue to explore the rootsy-country themes that characterize “Workingman’s Dead,” in generally a more polished manner. Lyricist Robert Hunter helped the musicians realize some of their best-crafted compositions, such as in the opening track, “Box of Rain.”

As Blair Jackson wrote in “Garcia: An American Life,” bass player Phil Lesh “wanted a song to sing to his dying father and had composed a piece complete with every vocal nuance but the words.”

“If ever a lyric ‘wrote itself,’ this did—as fast as the pen would pull,” Jackson quoted hunter as saying. Lesh delivers the rather obscure words in a heartfelt manner for his first lead vocal on a Grateful Dead record.

Following is one of the band’s most popular songs, “Friend of the Devil,” sung by lead guitarist and rock icon Jerry Garcia. Mandolin player David Grisman, Garcia’s musical partner during the last several years of his life, guests on the tale of a man apparently beset by myriad problems with women.

Rhythm guitarist Bob Weir had been conspicuous in his songwriting absence since the bizarre “Born Cross-Eyed” on “Anthem of the Sun” (1968), but he returns on “American Beauty with perhaps his best-known composition. “Sugar Magnolia,” which represents one of Weir’s few collaborations with Hunter, actually is a compendium of two songs, with the coda “Sunshine Daydream” sometimes performed on its own in concert.

The role of the late Ron “Pigpen” McKernan in the Grateful Dead had diminished since the days when the rotund teenager performed with Garcia and Weir in Mother McCree’s Uptown Jug Champions. By 1969, he had been supplanted as keyboard player by Tom Constanten, and his appearances in concert were limited, although they invariably were highlights of the show.

In the studio, McKernan was absent on “Aoxmoxoa,” with the credits simply listing his role as “Pigpen.” On “Workingman’s Dead,” he sang Hunter’s “Easy Wind,” easily one of the gems of the entire Dead catalog.

The band finally gave Pigpen an opportunity to perform one of his own compositions with “Operator” on “American Beauty.” The brief, effective modified blues tune tells the story of him trying to reach on old girlfriend whose whereabouts are unknown.

The Garcia-Hunter song “Candyman” is one of several bearing that title; it has nothing to do with “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory” or Sammy Davis Jr. The Dead’s “Candyman” continues in the vein of “Friend of the Devil,” with a colorful character chasing tail.

The LP’s second side opens with the one-two punch of “Ripple” and “Brokedown Palace,” which remain among the Dead’s most-beloved songs. (I’ll put in the caveat that I heard the band play “Brokedown Palace” as an encore enough for me to get kind of tired of the guys doing so.)

“Till the Morning Comes” is an upbeat rocker that the Dead performed precious few times in concert before abandoning. The languid “Attics of My Life” kind of stalls the album’s proceedings, at least temporarily.

The comes the closing number, “Truckin’,” which chronicles the arrest of certain band members in New Orleans in early 1970, among other travails of being out on the road. Anone who’s taken even a remote interest in the Grateful Dead knows this is the song that contains the line for which the band is best known: “What a long, strange trip it’s been.”

That line, though, sort of seems out of place on “American Beauty,” which might be as close to a conventional pop album as the Dead ever recorded.

But anyway…

7/19/74. Selland Arena in Fresno, California. Start with He’s Gone.

None of them are in tune, with themselves or each other, and Garcia is the worst: he is a noticeable quarter-step away from where he wants to be for most of the song. Plus, he playing the wrong chords. Combining those two choices makes it difficult to succeed. He’s not the worst, though: Billy keeps wanting to get to the next bit a beat early and Keith is being overbearing like he could be, stomping and comping in the middle register with block chords like he did near the end…

But then, as they’re finished with the song part of the song, they turn around and snatch it from themselves and wrestle it with brawny arms and steaming loins and thrusty parts and soiled trousers and punchy crotch and shivering fists and they make Selland Arena in Fresno their lady-friend. (Which would be kinda nice, actually. Old ladies got put on the payroll. Plus, there was most certainly not going to be any of that Led Zeppelin shit going on. Yes, hotel rooms were being consumed by flames at precisely the same rate as Keith Moon went through them, but Garcia was always really sorry about it, man. You know he didn’t mean that shit.)

Here’s the only problem: Selland Arena only held 6,500 people.  How do you get 6,500 people to produce enough revenue to justify moving the Wall of Sound? During the GODDAM GAS CRISIS. And it wasn’t like nowadays, they didn’t charge rich people prices at concerts yet; hell, there were no rich people in Fresno fucking California in 1974 going to the Dead show. There might have been some cats with a roll, but nobody with any money. Even if they had money, rock bands didn’t learn how to really sell shit until the Stones’ Steel Wheels tour.

But not of that matters, because GO BACK AND LISTEN TO EYES, PEOPLE. The end of it, the Stronger Than Dirt part, where you suddenly realize again that the Dead, if they hadn’t had such strong strictures in place regarding practicing, could have been Yes. You listen good and hard to what Billy is doing: he has, as I’ve mentioned before, become Jazzbo Billy by 1974, but he was GOOD AT IT. Billy played his drums like he fucked his women: anally. (You are right, that is going too far and it doesn’t make sense, but wow did it make me giggle like a ninny when I thought of it)

Although The Grateful Dead released five studio albums and
one double “live” album during the aforementioned years, the
emphasis was placed on their 1968 “Anthem of the Sun” release,
along with their 1970 album releases of “Workingman’s Dead”
and “American Beauty.”

The Grateful Dead was “sui generis” in more ways than one,
combining elements of Bluegrass, Folk, Country and Psychedelic
music into songs that could each last more than a half-hour
when performed “live.” This documentary made it clear that
these band members created their own rules in the studio
and on stage, literally learning the ropes “on the fly,”
particularly where their “Anthem of the Sun” release was
concerned. While making this album, they produced tracks
that combined footage from different live concerts with
studio elements. This technique hadn’t been done before.

With the release of “Workingman’s Dead,” a couple of years
later, they primarily used acoustic instruments and placed
a greater emphasis on the lyrics. In most respects, it was
an album in which the band was “getting back to Earth”
and in a sense, reinventing Folk music. At this time, they
recorded under the Warner Brothers label, and the
executives there were more pleased with this album.
“American Beauty” was released shortly thereafter, and
was regarded by many as an artistic highpoint for the band.

However, anyone who knows anything about The Grateful
Dead is aware that it truly excelled as a “live” act. Fortunately,
this film provides numerous clips taken from various shows,
and depicts the San Francisco scene of the mid to late 1960′s,
giving viewers a bit of “Haight-Ashbury 101.” Bassist Phil Lesh
and guitarist Bob Weir were featured at the mixing console,
reliving and replaying tracks from that era, and interviews
are also included with drummer Mickey Hart, primary lyricist
Robert Hunter and the late vocalist and guitarist, Jerry Garcia
(1942-1995). Additional insights and recollections were
provided by various recording executives, album cover
artists, and David Crosby.

The Grateful Dead continued touring and releasing more studio,
official and “unofficial” live recordings, until Garcia’s death in 1995.
Occasional personnel changes were made, primarily at the
keyboard chair, and sometimes they used one drummer, instead
of two. Due to constantly playing live and incessantly touring,
they forged a near-telepathic musical rapport with each other,
and the results could vary between striking music-making and
aimless meandering. Phil Lesh likened the various players to
“different fingers on the same hand,” which was a good analogy.

At a running time of 75 minutes, this film is a bit short when
compared with other DVDs in the series, especially in light of how
much music is discussed. Nevertheless, a good use was made
of the time. “The Grateful Dead: Anthem to Beauty” is a nice
documentary of this seminal band and another worthwhile
installment in the Classic Albums series.

In the early days, the Warlocks’ only goal was that their audience would connect to them through the music. Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, “Pigpen” McKernan, and Bill Kreutzmann achieved this by practicing for hours every day to hone the flow of their songs. Of course teaming up with Owsley Stanley, the “King of Acid,” during Ken Kesey’s psychedelic experiments (Wolfe 210) would propel the band both into the limelight and into realms their consciousness they had not yet explored. Once they adopted the name Grateful Dead they were already the epitome of acid rock (Garcia 17).

The Grateful Dead, as masters of their craft, were more involved with the art of improvising music than writing a chart topping hit. With an unofficial vow to remain stoned and let the music take them where they needed to be, no one has bested them yet. Their lucid style entrances anyone who listens to their songs. Making each lick and riff flow smoothly is a feat that is not easily accomplished, but the Dead make it seem easy. Many bands do well to memorize their songs and perform them exactly like their albums. The Eagles, Pink Floyd, and many other core bands from the 1960s and 1970s performed nothing more than what they had recorded in the studio. This is not art. It is repetition. The Grateful Dead have acknowledged that their “freewheeling improvisational style is more suited to the concert hall than to the studio” (Garbarini 32). This philosophy, in conjunction with using their recorded material as a basis, led to one of the most successful series of concerts in all of music history in 1972.

Far from being the most popular and profitable band of the era, the Grateful Dead’s goal was to entertain. During their Europe ’72 tour, they branched out from the typical routine in the United States and brought their music to the world. In light of improvising shows, the fans demanded more live recordings, so the Dead lugged a 16 track recorder all around Western Europe to capture their true essence. Having only studio recordings didn’t fully represent what the band was capable of. “In three decades of performance, they improvised and reinvented their material so thoroughly that no tune ever sounded quite the same way twice” (Jones 49).

The Grateful Dead had such a loyal following that their fans not only came to a few shows, many of them followed the band all over the country on any given tour. What defines a band is its fans. Without fans, a band has nothing; no one to sing along with their songs or wait for them return to their town to pay for the next show. Some fans were so passionate about the Dead’s vision that they followed them for many years. These hardcore fans were dubbed “Deadheads” and represented the soul of the Grateful Dead.

In a time when the Beatles ruled the world and the Rolling Stones were a close second, Led Zeppelin was rising to fame, and bands such as Yes, Queen, Journey, and Black Sabbath were about to take over the airwaves. These bands were driven by the will of their managers to produce chart topping songs and record selling albums. However, with the exception of bands like Led Zeppelin, they lacked much ingenuity in their live performances.

While many other of the Grateful Dead’s shows are also memorable previous to 1972, the early 1970s were when they were maturing in their musical style. Previous staples include the celestial Cosmic Charlie and Dark Star, but on the Europe ’72 tour, the Dead performed a multitude of new songs which had never been recorded before. “The playing is, as ever, impeccable. The singing is, as usual, mighty frail. But the songs!” (Jones 49). “Tennessee Jed”, “Brown Eyed Women”, and “Jack Straw” all graced their concerts and revolutionized their already innovative style. Yet drawing from their early days with the Pranksters, they kept with their routine of having no predetermined plan. “The Grateful Dead did not play in sets…” (Wolfe 245). They not only improvised bridges within their songs, but the order in which they were performed. Nothing was set in stone and when one band member changed something, the others had to cue off of it and roll on through.

The diversity of musical styles and lyrics incorporated into songs have been the subject of much study. Robert Hunter had been contributing poems to the Dead since he and Garcia were in the army in 1960. Throughout the psychedelic revolution of the 1960s, these poems became evermore abstract and led to such songs as “That’s It for the Other One”, “China Cat Sunflower”, and “Mountains of the Moon”. It wasn’t until the Europe ’72 album was released that the wider world was able to see how Garcia’s band could turn such a psychedelic masterpiece as “China Cat Sunflower” and flow straight into a traditional bluegrass tune like “I Know You Rider”.

The arrangements of the songs changed even more than their overly esoteric lyrics. “Truckin’ ” is a good example. Written to memorialize the 1970 drug bust in New Orleans, “Truckin’ ” was the Grateful Dead’s first successful hit. As a simple tune based in key of E blues, there isn’t much to add to it. But with Garcia at the helm, what was originally only five minutes on the American Beauty album became thirteen on Europe ’72. The basic flow of the song didn’t change much through it’s first few years as the people expected it to sound a certain way, however, later in the 1970s, they performed a version which had more of a Spanish flare than blues.

The flow of a typical concert progressed through some snappy songs sung by Weir followed by a few traditional bluegrass songs and more melodramatic originals sung by Garcia accompanied by that smooth lead guitar which became synonymous with the Grateful Dead’s name. Further into the show, Pigpen would belt out one or two blues songs while weeping through his keyboard and organ. While a few band members would take a break, the rest would remain on stage and play an acoustic set. This method of incorporating every genre each member had ever played made a Grateful Dead concert not just a show, but a total experience. Each one was different and the fans never knew what to expect when paying the few dollars to see their idols perform. It was because of this that the Deadheads roamed with the band.

Throughout the “long strange trip” that Garcia and his band of hippies set out upon in 1965, they maintained their philosophy to enjoy the music above all else. This is apparent in all of their studio albums, but very much more so in their live performances. If none of the concerts had ever been recorded, acid rock would forever be at a loss without the contribution of the Grateful Dead. By the end of the Europe ’72 tour, the eternal love of the fans and their commitment to constant surprise had secured the band’s unique contribution to the world as a legacy that has since influenced music for every generation. Though the Grateful Dead’s technique continued to evolve and incorporate new styles throughout the rest of their career, 1972 seemed to be a magic year for the entire world of music. The Rolling Stones were begging for shelter, Led Zeppelin was climbing the stairway to heaven, Pink Floyd was about to embark for the dark side of the moon, The Eagles were takin’ it easy. But the Grateful Dead were just truckin’ on.

Works Cited

Garbarini, Vic. “In the Dar.” Playboy Nov. 1987: 32. Popular Culture Collection. Web. 26 Feb. 2012.

Garcia, Jerry, Charles Reich, and Jann Wenner. Garcia: A Signpost to New Space.

Jones, Malcolm. “A listener’s guide to the Dead.” Newsweek 21 Aug. 1995: 49. Popular Culture Collection. Web. 26 Feb. 2012.

Wolfe, Tom. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. New York: Bantam Books, 1968. Print.

POINTER
Ikkyu says: One short pause between the leaky road here and the never-leaking Way there. If it rains, let it rain! If it storms, let it storm! A Crazy Cloud, out in the open. Blown about madly, as wild as they come!

CASE bard Hunter wrote:

Just a box of rain -
wind and water -
Sun and shower -
Wind and rain -
I don’t know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare

NOTES
How is it when the tree withers and the leaves fall?
Yun Men said, “Body exposed in the golden wind.”

COMMENTARY
In After Ikkyu, Harrison scrawled this spanking:

Poor little blind boy, lost in the storm
where should he go to be without harm?
For starters, the dickhead should get a life.
Once I had a moment of absolute balance
while dancing with my sick infant daughter
to Merle Haggard. The blind boy died in the storm
with fresh frozen laughter hot on his lips.

VERSE

COMMENTARY

ADDED SAYING from bard Hunter: CASE

“The weather down here so fine”
Just then the wind came squalling through the door, but who can the weather command?
-BLACK PETER

Your rain falls like crazy fingers
Peals of fragile thunder keeping time

Cloud hands reaching from a rainbow
Tapping at the window touch your hair
-CRAZY FINGERS

Ripple in still water
when there is no pebble tossed
nor wind to blow
-RIPPLE

ADDED SAYING: VERSE

The Grateful Dead’s official discography has the band’s studio work with Warner Bros. concluding with the classic “American Beauty.”

Yet two more Warner studio albums figure prominently in the Dead’s history, recordings that provided ample concert material for decades while also being somewhat hard to find for years.

Bob Weir’s “Ace” (1972) is a Grateful Dead album in all but name, with all members of the band’s lineup at the time taking part in the sessions. As such, it’s the first studio effort to feature the Godchauxs, Keith and Donna.

By contrast, “Garcia,” released the same year, basically is a solo effort: Jerry played everything on the albums except drums, which were handled by the Dead’s Bill Kreutzmann.

“Garcia” and “Ace” both went out of print a few years after release and were much coveted by Deadheads until their release on compact disc in the late ’80s. I remember buying “Ace” on 8-track because that’s the only way I could find it!

A copy of “Garcia” actually sat for a long while in a bin at a record store we frequented in Indiana, PA, our college town. But we had no idea until later; the album’s cover gives little indication as to what it contains.

Our loss.

Of the two albums, I prefer “Garcia.” Nothing against Bob’s effort, which contains many of his best compositions (although I’ve never been fond of “Looks Like Rain”). But, hey, Jerry was Jerry.

Plus the songs on his first solo album are among his most memorable, kicking off with “Deal.” Not only is it one of my favorites to play and sing since I learned it 20-some years ago, but it always was a personal concert favorite. I particularly remember it as a first-set closer during a show on City Island in my hometown of Harrisburg, an epic performance that had me clearing out a large swath of the audience to accommodate my boogieing to the music. (No, you don’t want to picture that.)

Back to “Garcia”: It continues with two more songs that became concert favorites, “Bird Song,” Jerry and Robert Hunter’s ode to Janis Joplin, and “Sugaree,” their invective against a woman who must’ve done somebody wrong.

The first side of the LP wraps up with “Loser,” a minor-key tale of a gambler that particularly was effective in concert with its dynamic shifts an Jerry’s dramatic guitar soloing.

The LP’s flip side opens with pure experimentation leading into the melodic instrumental “Eep Hour”; the suite of songs figures prominently in the surreal animated sequence that opens “The Grateful Dead Movie.”

“To Lay Me Down” is a heartfelt effort that reappears on the Dead’s acoustic live album, “Reckoning,” and the “So Many Roads” anthology of unreleased material. Next is the aptly titled “An Odd Little Place,” which is an odd little jam.

“Garcia” wraps up with some of Jerry’s finest pedal-steel guitar playing (he abandoned the instrument during the Europe ’72 tour) leading into “The Wheel,” which began life as an improvisation and wound up as yet another concert favorite when the Dead revived the song following its 1974-75 hiatus.

The duo album by Bill the drummer and Jerry on everything else stands as one of the Grateful Dead’s finest studio accomplishments, even if it featured only two of the boys.

Enjoy another selection of  Stories About Storytellers at the Canadian Encyclopedia blog. In this installment, we meet Robert Hunter — subversive newsman and Greenpeace founder. To read the excerpt, head over to the Canadian Encyclopedia.

(Have you missed the previous excerpts? You can still read the selections on Charles Ritchie, Val Ross, Jack Hodgins, Peter Gzowski, R.D. Symons, James Houston, Morley Callaghan,  Paul Martin, Barry Broadfoot, Brian Mulroney, Mavis Gallant, Robertson Davies, Alistair MacLeod, Pierre Trudeau,  Stephen Leacock and Alice Munro.)

Actually, that’s a wad of gobshite, too. Although true enough, at least about the coffee & beer, I’m not quite as calloused & indifferent as I like to pretend to be. The sad truth is that I cry at the slightest bit of stress, empathetic pain, or even romanticism, a happy left-over from my time in Hell (aka, when I was buried in the blues….deep depression, yes?).

But, mostly, the entire issue of fate doesn’t weigh heavily on my mind. I figure that if it is already written, then there’s no sense worrying it to death, or trying to change it. And if it isn’t, well, I’ve probably got time to figure out the best way to approach that bit of responsibility, before it gets out of control. Either way, it doesn’t seem to require that I pay a lot of attention; the perpetual motion machine that is the Universe trots merrily along on its own, blissfully indifferent, unaware and uncaring of either my support and approval, or of my frustration and resentment…..
___________________________________

“Appearances to the mind are of four kinds. Things either are what they appear to be; or they neither are, nor appear to be; or they are, and do not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Rightly to aim in all these cases is the wise man’s task.” — Epictetus (c. 60 AD)
– Discourses, Book i, Chap. xxvii

Just as an exercise, think about this statement, and determine if it is true, or false. If you are like me, about half-way through the second sentence, a ripping headache will blossom quickly in your head. You know the kind: your eyes narrow, and your brows furrow; it creeps swiftly up the back of the neck like a lance of electricity, spreading up through the cranial cavity to sit just over the temples, throbbing, sounding a discordant crescendo, with nausea churning in response, and a diffuse feeling of impending doom. A real Chernobyl of headaches. And that is prior to actually considering the propositions; you really don’t want to know what that will do….

It’s too bad actually. Back in the day, when I was young, and invulnerable, I could read something like this, and chew it up like penny candy. But I was much more pompous then, full of my own sense of importance (ah, yes, the illusions of youth!), and not yet worn down by the millstone of Time. Today, my usual response to a request to put myself through something of this nature is to tell the person to get a clue, and go take a nap.

Back in the day, though, I did think about these statements, and found them to be, as far as they go, true. They are useful, in the way they encourage close attention to appearances. But in general, in this form, with this sort of complexity and weight, these principles will send most folks off to have an ice cream sundae, rather than stimulating them to think…. one needs to be a little tricky to stimulate thought in your average Joe…. it’s just not one of the general public’s strong suits…

“Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to Hell; the door of dark Dis stands open day and night. But to retrace your steps and come out to the air above, that is work, that is labor!” — Virgil, The Aeneid
___________________________________

“They smell, they snarl and they scratch; they have a singular aptitude for  shredding rugs, drapes and upholstery; they’re sneaky, selfish and not at all smart; they are disloyal, condescending and totally useless in any  rodent-free environment.” — Jean-Michel Chapereau, on cats

For a man to truly understand rejection, he must first be ignored by a cat. (Jean-Michele obviously has been….and still resents it..)

In fact, learning to live with, and appreciate, a cat can teach us a great many lessons about interpersonal, and inter species, relationships. Cats do not have the same relationship with us as dogs, or other pets. There is a certain formality, a very strict set of protocols, that must be observed in order to live peacefully with a cat; in addition, they do not appreciate changes in their environment, hate surprises, and have no compunctions about expressing their opinions if these protocols are not faithfully fulfilled. One learns quickly to understand this, the first time they get up in the morning to find their cat’s opinion of something deposited in their shoes.

Once a human has agreed to observe the niceties, cats are excellent companions. They are neat and tidy, and don’t take up much space, especially as they can fit themselves into spaces much smaller than they appear to be, as well as possessing the uncanny talent of being able to get into a room with no open windows or doors. It is a bit disconcerting at times, to open up a kitchen drawer to find a cat taking a nap, or find them in the library, enjoying a postprandial bath, after just seeing them in the kitchen, eating from their bowl, mere seconds ago.

But, they don’t run up big phone bills, they don’t leave clothes all over the common rooms, they never borrow your favorite sweater, or ask you for a temporary loan. They will insist that when they want your attention, you will stop whatever you are doing to give it; this generally happens when you are reading or typing, and your furry, compact roommate decides he want a lap for a nap, so they sit on the book, or walk across the keyboard, tail up, ass in your face, complaining that you’re not living up to your responsibility. It is not generally a hardship to give them what they ask for, because the rewards are worth it.

When you are feeling blue, your cat will come sit with you, and purr with contentment, sending out vibes of love and approval to heal your troubled spirit. They will entertain you with silliness, skill, and quirky behaviors that bring a smile to your face, every time. They will protect you from attacks by invisible beings from other dimensions, that only they can see (what did you think they were doing staring at that empty corner, or spot on the wall?).

They will provide you with fashion advice and decorating tips, usually in the form of a sign of disgust toward the object that offends their sense of taste or sensibility. They will provide you with a rodent-free domicile, company, affection, and love. All you have to do is fulfill your part of the bargain, by providing food, shelter, laps, toys, and the occasional bit of attention. It’s a pretty good deal, all in all……

Great! My cat has been cashing my reality checks again!
___________________________________

“It’s a buck dancer’s choice my friend, you better take my advice.
You know all the rules by now, and the fire from the ice.
Ain’t no time to hate
– there’s barely time to wait.
Wo ho, what I want to know: where does the time go?” — Robert Hunter

Where does the time go? And who says so? Where does your lap go, when you stand up? Where are all those socks that have been lost over the years in the wash? If it’s an unknown soldier, whose side was he on, and how do we know? If Billy stays at his work, baiting lines on a tuna boat, a long time, does that make him a Master Baiter? If Time is a river, or a road stretching out before us, how does it fly? If a butterfly flying away from its cocoon can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world, what happens when an elephant poops? Why on Earth did kamikaze pilots wear helmets? Does your chewing gum lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight?

These are the kinds of things that trouble mankind? Well, no, but I tend to think about them a lot. I’m curious, and there are still a lot of things I have to learn; one can only learn when they admit they don’t know. Why, you may ask, do I spend my time on such nonsense? That’s an easy one. Because I damn well want to, and it’s none of your damn business what I do inside my own head. But, since you’ve asked so nicely, I’ll put down my curmudgeon cudgel, and tell you. It all started when I was young, and my brother accidentally stepped on my nose. You might wonder what my nose was doing under his foot, but you’ll be disappointed to learn that you’ll never know, because it’s not relevant, or germane to our discussion.

What is relevant is this….. That event taught me that life is hard enough to deal with just as it is; there is pain, and suffering, and a seemingly hostile Universe with which we must contend every minute of every day. There’s no need to add another layer of difficulty by refusing to see the other side of that seriousness, that little bit of nonsense that is present every where and every when, in everything we do, and in everything that happens to us. We are all Bozos on this bus, and when the nose shows, you must let it grow. There will be time enough to be plenty serious when serious problems need to be addressed; whenever we have the opportunity to experience the lighter side of existence, it makes good sense to take it. Or, as so aptly put by Willie Wonka: “A little nonsense now and then, is relished by the wisest men.”…….. Cheers, and welcome to the parade!…….
___________________________________

Sophie Tucker was unique. I know that it sounds trite, but if there ever was someone who deserved the attribution, it was her. I can still remember the sense of awe, and the chills down my back, the first time I heard her sing, sometime around 1957. The song was “God Bless America”, and she let that huge voice free on the high notes; I’d wager no glass containers were left unshattered in the studio where it was recorded. Amazing pipes! And she had a personality to match.

Below I have listed three jokes attributed to her; the first I read in my quote database, the other two are from Bette Midler, told orally during her concerts….. enjoy a real lady’s sense of ribald humor….. In my mind, I can just see the huge smile and sparkle in her eyes when she related these gems of wisdom….

“From birth to age eighteen a girl needs good parents; from eighteen to thirty-five she needs good looks; from thirty-five to fifty-five she needs  a good personality; from fifty-five on, she needs good cash.” — Sophie Tucker

Sophie and her boyfriend Ernie were making love…. Ernie says, “Sophie! Your t__s are small, and your p____y is tight!”  “Ernie” says Sophie, “Get off my back!” — as related by Bette Midler

Sophie was on the phone with her boyfriend, Ernie; both of them are in their 80′s. Ernie brags “Sophie, I’ve got a girlfriend who’s 20 years old!” Sophie replies, “Ernie, I’ve got a boyfriend who’s 20, too, and I’ll bet you a hundred that 20 goes into 80 more times than 80 goes into 20!” — as related by Bette Midler

SIGH!…. You gotta admit, she had style…..even if it proves to be an urban myth, it’s an attractive, and believable one…..
___________________________________

I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright;
And round beneath it,
Time in hours, days, years,
Driv’n by the spheres
Like a vast shadow mov’d; in which the world
And all her train were hurl’d.
– Henry Vaughan  — The World

I don’t have a lot to say about this. It’s lovely, and deep. Reading it engenders the feeling of weight that one associates with Time, and its structural rhythm lends itself to a soothing train of thoughtful images, all of which make his message come into clearer focus. A very excellent example of the power that poetry has, in the right hands….
___________________________________

Got a bit of a late start today; didn’t wake up until after 0615. Coffee was already hot & waiting (thanks to technology!) (why did it take so long to come up with a coffee maker that could start itself at a certain time? Seems like a no-brainer to me….) Any who, though starting late, it all came together pretty well, I think, so I’ll call it a day for this particular activity.

Now I can try to get caught up to the 20 or so emails of new posts by the bloggers I follow, a daily task growing larger each day. I love it though, it gives me a ton of food for thought. I feel bloated and replete, mostly in a good way, some mornings after seeing some of the stuff other folks are up to out there on the Net. Tasty stuff…. y’all take care out there…

–
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
and sometimes
I just sits.gigoid

Kowabunga!

The Ray City School held a junior high school rating until 1936, when it became an accredited senior high school.

Ray City School class photos from 1934. Identifications needed.

Ray City School 4th Grade Class Photo, Believed to be Spring 1934. Photo was inscribed on back ” Mildred’s 4th Grade Class, Ray City School.” The reference may be to Mildred Clements, who graduated in 1939.  Image courtesy of Edith Mayo.

A 1934 newspaper article on Ray City included the following information about the school.

The city of Ray City affords every convenience and comfort for the citizens of the community.  There is a fine school system, which is under the capable and efficient supervision of Prof. P. M. Shultz.  Prof. Ulmer Crosby is principal, and the other teachers are:  Mrs. P. M. Shultz, Miss Jessie Aycock, Mrs. A.B. Baskins, Miss Lillian Ford and Mrs. Eulalie Dickson.

The school has nine grades, with an enrollment of a few over the two hundred mark.  A number of fine students complete the school each year, advancing to higher institutions of learning.  The school system in Ray City is really a big asset, (illegible) a higher type of citizenry.

The school board is composed of the following gentlemen who handle their duties in a most admirable manner and of benefit to patrons and students combined.  H.A. Swindle, chairman, M.A. Studstill, sec.-treasl., C.H. Vickers, J.M. Studstill and W.M. Creech, members.

Ray City School, 1934, Grades 4 and 5. Ray City, Berrien County, GA. Teacher, Jessie Aycock. Image courtesy of Edith Mayo.

Ray City School, Ray City, GA. 1934 6th Grade Class. Lillian Ford, Teacher. (Top Row, L to R) Belle Garner, Thelma Sirmans, Velma Wood, Frances Sirmans, Geraldine Brown, Lounelle Futch. (2nd Row) Sarah Hunter, Monafaye Swindle, Hazel Futch, Helen Dubose, D’Ree Yawn. (Bottom Row) H. Cox, Lawson Fountain, Dan St?, Robert Hunter, James “Skinny” Holliday, Morris Johnson.

Ray City School, 1934, Grades 7 and 8. Ray City, Berrien County, GA. Boy at top left, Earl Pafford Swindle. Front row, second from right is believed to be Robert Bruce Johnson.

1934 Ray City School, Girls Basketball Team. (Left to Right) Front Row: Johnnie Sirmans, Grace Clements, Louise Paulk, Winona Holiday. Back Row: Helen DuBose, Clyde Carter, Jinnie Johnson, Helen Swindle, Virginia Studstill.

Related articles

• In 1934 Ray City was ‘Noted Section’ of Berrien County
• Sankey Booth, Wiregrass Educator
• 1951 Beaverettes Couldn’t Miss; Boys Went Afoul
• Senior Class of 1951, Ray City School
• Ray City School Teachers 1950-51, Ray City, Berrien County, Georgia
• 1939 Ray City School 10th Grade
• School Records Document Ray City History
• Queen of the Harvest celebrated Ray City Gymnasium
• Herman Knight Guthrie ~ 1948 Junior Class President
• RAY CITY SCHOOL OPENING 1937
• Ray City School Gets Lunch Room, 1941
• Glee Club Gave 1939 Christmas Cantata

Jon Mcintire, former manager of the Grateful Dead and New Riders of the Purple Sage, and a Rex Foundation board member, passed away on Feb. 16th 2012.

He had been suffering with throat cancer, according to a close friend.   No further details are available, but we do have this beautiful poem, by Robert Hunter.

When the late promoter Bill Graham organized a concert he called SNACK – that stood for Students Need Athletics, Culture and Kicks – to benefit after-school programs in the San Francisco area, he corralled a bunch of his heavyweight buddies to participate.

How about some of these names: Bob Dylan, Neil Young (backed by The Band), Santana, Jefferson Starship, Joan Baez, Tower of Power and the Doobie Brothers.

Also part of the March 25, 1975, extravaganza, coming out of “retirement,” was a group of Graham’s oldest friends, the Grateful Dead.

The Dead ostensibly had played a series of farewell concerts at Graham’s Winterland in October 1974, part of which later appeared in “The Grateful Dead Movie” and the poorly mixed “Steal Your Face” album, and still later as a much-better-sounding five-CD soundtrack to the movie.

At any rate, when members of the Dead reunited for SNACK, they performed perhaps the most esoteric set of their 30-year career: a half-hour-plus instrumental jam of music that was new to the band’s repertoire, neither the psychedelia of the ’60s nor the roots-rock of the ’70s. This was a jazzier version of the Dead, augmented by keyboard player Merl Saunders and anchored by the rhythm section of bassist Phil Lesh and drummers Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart. And of course, the late Jerry Garcia’s fluid guitar playing helped weave everything together.

Even for a San Francisco audience, those in attendance at Kezar Stadium must have been mystified by the proceedings until Bob Weir sang the familiar “Johnny B. Goode” for the encore.

The bulk of the performance laid the groundwork for what became the Grateful Dead’s “comeback” album, “Blues for Allah.” Unlike its approach to previous studio albums, the band woodshedded for three months at Hart’s house, formulating new music throughout.

The finished product kicks off with a three-song medley that served as a highlight of many a Dead show for the next 20 years: “Help On the Way/Slipknot!/Franklin’s Tower.” The relatively complex rhythmic patterns of the first two sections give way to a three-chord progression that benefits significantly from Garcia’s tasteful picking.

An instrumental medley, “King Solomon’s Marbles/Stronger Than Dirt or Milkin’ the Turkey,” incorporates themes that were prevalent at the SNACK show, with the rhythm section at full power.

Side One of the LP concludes with “The Music Never Stopped,” with lyricist John Perry Barlow capturing the Dead’s essence of “a band without description, like Jehovah’s favorite choir.” The original version clocks in at 4 1/2 minutes, but later concert versions often stretched beyond the 10-minute mark.

Side Two consists of an esoteric but rewarding sequence of songs, starting with the deceptively relaxed “Crazy Fingers,” which on closer examination contains a series of unconventional key changes, built around an arcane Robert Hunter poem.

Weir contributes an acoustic guitar instrumental, “Sage & Spirit.” According to longtime band associate Rock Scully in his book, “Living With the Dead”:

“Bobby wrote ‘Sage & Spirit’ while my daughters, named Sage and Spirit, were jumping on his bed and generally trashing his hotel room. He was trying to play his guitar and came up with the rhythm for this from their jumping. The flute (played by Steven Schuster) mimics their laughter.”

The album closes with another medley, “Blues for Allah/Sand Castles and Glass Camels/Unusual Occurrences in the Desert,” which fully exhibits the band’s experimental orientation. Supposedly the compositions were supposed to be the next in line among epic Dead concert jams, from “Viola Lee Blues” to “The Other One” to “Dark Star” to “Playing in the Band.” But the group played it live only a handful of times before abandoning it.

“Blues for Allah” is one of the Grateful Dead’s most fully realized studio projects, and one that stands up under scrutiny better than the band’s subsequent albums in the ’70s and ’80s. The title medley might be a bit of a challenge for the listener, but the other songs are among the Dead’s more memorable in the course of the long, strange trip.

As Robert Hunter puts it:

‎”When life looks like easy street, there’s danger at your door” 

But then again, having all the things blowing up at the same time, is definitely a bad omen.

Tarot. Do you remember Tarot? It was the play TC left the Dead to score. Did you know it was a mime musical? This is a fact: I am not making it up.  Tom Constanten was the Crispin Glover of his time.

Bobby’s looks were becoming a problem. The problem was, Bobby was a pretty young man. Which meant he could essentially wear clown clothes and make them work, but when a man gets older, dignity should take the forefront. The pretty do not learn dignity.

Robert Hunter recorded an album called Amalgamalin Street. It was described as both an “audio novel” and a “rock-opera.” It was about a guy named Chet. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?

Sweet heavenly hosts, I’m sitting here listening to them, while I read and write about them. These baboons have infiltrated my very Essence. they have befouled me like worse than Billy did that Holiday Inn that time in Des Moines when he got bored. No, not that time: the other time. No, the other time.

Mickey spoke in front of the Senate? The real one, not a bunch of dogs wearing human shirts Steve Parrish wrangled in the parking lot? The actual human Senate of the United States? In this reality? Not in some Quantum Leap type deal? (Billy could totally play Dead Stockton.) The same year he also produced an album called Honor the Earth Powwow? What a world we created.

The American Book of the Dead by Oliver Trager is awesome.

By the way: Mickey spoke in front of Senate about the benefits of drum circles for the elderly. Because of course he did.

Art by Lee Crutchley

 Grateful Dead, Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia, Scarlet Begonias, insight, vision, 

The whole purpose of “Cover Friday” is to share my love of beautifully designed book covers and showcase those publishers that just get it. I hadn’t looked at what Picador has to offer in a while, but was so glad when I did! It’s their 40th anniversary and they are celebrating by having illustrator Robert Hunter design beautifully simple covers (most in black and white) for some of their most popular novels. More designs can be found on Picador’s blog, as well as a statement from Senior Designer Neil Lang regarding the thought process in coming up with covers for these iconic books.

I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!

“Divine creation hears me, and he squashes me with fear,

I think that this exact thing happened to me, just last year.”

Damn it Trey, does it have to be so obvious. haha… and yet I’m thankful.

Unbelievable, the similarities. The rough exterior front, the disregard, the attitudes. How could I meet a woman a year later in a completely different economic social strata, and her have basically the exact same drama as the last one? An unfinished relationship in the past, the strikingly good looks, the addiction to her phone, the texting and the calling, I mean all of it down to the wire, exactly the same. Except this year I’m a bit different. I don’t get to shaking when I think about her. I don’t lose sleep this year. I guess that would be growth, but what would really be growth would be not entertaining unavailable women. What is the point? I think I’m smarter than the beating muscle in my chest, and I end up inadvertently just falling in love with women I can’t end up being with. Then it goes back to, well was I looking for a wounded gazelle in the first place because I suffer from low self esteem and I value physical beauty so much that I must sacrifice good looks for sanity, or is it that I’m attracted to the insanity? That water finds its own level, and that the insane hurricane up in her head, is exactly where I’m at… still… five years into sobriety. I just don’t know.

Unfortunately I feel the latter is probably the closer to the truth, just because I do let the low hanging fruit in the meetings pass on by and have been for over a year or so, and precisely because of the pain I got and of course deserved from the last mistake with an early sobriety girl, but this one doesn’t even know about AA, she isn’t even in the rooms. Which is probably just worse. I had really thought that because of that simple fact I’d be able to see her without getting attached, and without falling for her, but I am just fooling myself. I have fallen for her, in the two months we’ve been hanging out, and now my guts are twisted, my insides feel hollow even after I’ve eaten, with enough space that fireworks explode when the phone rings, and I hope beyond hope that it’s her. But it hasn’t been for a day, and ohhhh hell, woe is me, where is she, what is she doing, who is she with? I want to carve out the insecurity and jealousy out of my brain with a fork, and feed it to the squirrels and bears of the mountains up here. Unbelievably stupid of me to get involved with a sick girl who I knew had one of the worst diseases’ on Earth, that I had gone to such lengths to conquer in my own life, alcoholism, and of course, like most good alcoholics, she isn’t even aware she has.

Layers of the onion we say. Worst is that extracting myself from the situation may be more challenging than this time last year, when her beau was right around the corner from coming back into her life, this one’s is in Iraq for the next 3 years, and though I can do pretty good on not calling or communicating on my end, I have a hard time not answering the phone. As soon as I see it ring, I go for it and answer as sweet as can be no matter what kind of nervous wreck I am. Haha, oh well, such is love. Never did the course of true love run smooth ole Shakespeare said. Ha… I was thinking about last year’s yesterday as I went on a ten mile run and I was actually very happy for her. She finally got exactly what she wanted, and for the first time I felt real joy that she is living her dreams, though they are absolutely with someone else. God is above all else, patient.

I actually met with a real publisher/PR marketing guy yesterday regarding the book, and also some future projects. We discussed getting embedded with troops in Kuwait for the upcoming invasion of Iran, hurrah…. also perhaps just going into Egypt or Syria, maybe even Mexico for the war that is brewing there as well. So yeah, settling down and living the domestic raise a family life, though deliciously tempting, probably still would have prevented what Gods will is ultimately for me though, and maybe that is why this year is easier than last. Also even with church girl from last year, I mean she was nice and stable, etc. but I’d bet money she’d have driven me crazy, crazy bored more likely within just  a few months. Gods will is for me to do something more I think, and maybe getting embedded would be the adventure I’ve been looking for. God knows the French foreign Legion and US Army aint interested in my soldiering capabilities… but at least I can still write.

So I guess, having learned a lesson last year, the best thing to do is cut the cord with this woman, regardless of what she says about this guy in the distant past, far and away land, if they are talking once a week and she insists her son call him “Daddy” there is more to it than she is letting on, and I don’t ever want to be that guy again. The sooner I let go the sooner I’ll get to feeling back to normal. Last year, though madly in love, it took about 90 days before that God sized hole started to morph back into something manageable, though I still dreamed of her for months, hell almost the whole year, the gut wrenching pain was gone after about 3 months. This hasn’t lasted anywhere near that long, and I’m retreating way before the pain gets there. That all makes fine sense when written down on paper… lets see if I can actually go through with it. Pussy is one hell of a drug. Especially when you don’t drink or do any other drugs, no two ways about it.

“I had to learn the hard way, just to let her pass by, let her pass by.” – Grateful Dead, Robert Hunter… and yet I seem to keep answering the damn phone, lol..

Love in sobriety is more complicated than I’d ever imagined it would be.

Jared Bryan Smith

21. The War On Drugs- Slave Ambient
Equally influenced by The Arcade Fire, Bruce Springsteen and the Grateful Dead, The War On Drugs music is dominated by layers of psychedelic keyboards and interwoven liquified guitar lines, but at the core is strong songwriting from frontman Adam Granduciel.  Something about the band’s sound is unquestionably “big” and catchy, and Slave Ambient could be a breakout album of sorts for them.

Key Tracks- Best Night, Your Love Is Calling My Name, Baby Missiles, Original Slave

22. Jonathan Wilson- Gentle Spirit
For the past few years, Jonathan Wilson has quietly spearheaded Laurel Canyon’s emerging country rock scene without getting much recognition. d Along with his good friend Chris Robinson, Wilson has hosted loose jam sessions featuring talented friends ranging from classic rock veterans such as Benmont Tensch of Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and Jackson Browne to rising young bands Dawes and Truth & Salvage Co.  With Gentle Spirit, the man who has served as the architect of the Laurel Canyon revival from behind the scenes steps into the spotlight with his first official solo album.

Wilson’s psychedelic country rock is more influenced by the Grateful Dead than fellow Laurel Canyon residents Jackson Browne and Crosby, Stills & Nash, and at his best, Wilson’s soaring lead guitar work is reminiscent of Jerry Garcia.  At its worst, the album lags a little bit with a consistently slow tempo and seven songs over six minutes long.  But with a gentle, breezy voice and gorgeous guitar playing, the album is an exciting glimpse into the man who is in many ways the father of one of the most flourishing music scenes in the country.

Key Tracks: Natural Rhapsody, The Way I Feel, Woe Is Me, Valley of the Silver Moon

23. Jim Lauderdale- Reason & Rhyme
My review here
Jim Lauderdale’s 3rd collaboration with Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter finds the songwriter as brilliant as ever.

Key Tracks- Cruel Wind & Rain, Jack Dempsey’s Crown, Don’t Give A Hang, Reason & Rhyme

24. Warren Haynes- Man In Motion
Man In Motion is the album that Warren Haynes has wanted to make his entire life.  With Gov’t Mule taking 2011 off, he finally had his chance.  On Man In Motion, Haynes pays tribute to his first musical loves- soul music.  Haynes’ soulful voice shines, while George Porter Jr. on bass and Ivan Neville on keys along with a horn section give the album a funky edge.  For those worried that Haynes searing, bluesy guitar work might get lost on a more straightforward soul album – fear not – there is plenty of guitar on this album.  Actually with seven of the ten tracks clocking in at over six minutes, the album suffers from a little too much jamming.  Though at times Man In Motion feels more like a loose live show than tight soul album, it finds Warren Haynes’ voice sounding better than ever before.

Key Tracks- Everyday Will Be Like A Holiday, Your Wildest Dreams, Save Me

25. Garage A Trois- Always Be Happy, But Stay Evil
Garage A Trois bring their weird brand of noise rock back into the studio for Always Be Happy, But Stay Evil, their second album since keyboardist Marco Benevento replaced guitarist Charlie Hunter in the band.  Featuring heavy, psychedelic noise and effects courtesy of crazed experimentalists Benevento and saxophonist Skerik, the band explores free jazz territory while also featuring groove heavy numbers dominated by drummer Stanton Moore.

Key Tracks: Omar, Shooting Breaks, Thumb

Grateful Dead: Truckin

►

Truckin’ from 1972 and Bertha from around 1989.

I’ve spent more time listening to the Grateful Dead than anyone else.  There’s so much great music and so many great moments.  They covered more musical ground in a concert than most artists do in a career.  Rock, folk, blues, jazz, bluegrass, country, experimental music, cowboy songs, covers of oldies (Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, Motown) and a whole lot more.  Over the course of their career, they played over 500 songs.  In my mind, the quintessential Stand There And Play band.

The core of Jerry Garcia (lead guitar), Bob Weir (rhythm guitar), Phil Lesh (bass) and Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart (drums and percussion) played with several keyboard players – Rob “Pigpen” McKernan (1965-72), Tom Constanten (1968-70), Keith Godchaux (1971-79), Brent Mydland (1979-90), Vince Welnick (1990-95) and Bruce Hornsby (1990-92), plus Donna Jean Godchaux on vocals from 1972-79.  Robert Hunter and John Perry Barlow wrote a lot of the lyrics.  I won’t attempt to summarize the band’s history; there are plenty of resources out there.  Start with the basic biography, the band’s website, and this Grateful Dead chronology.

The Grateful Dead are the most-recorded band in rock history.  They were together from 1965 until Jerry Garcia’s death in 1995, and the vast majority of their shows were recorded.  They usually provided for a taper section in the audience near the sound board, so that fans could record the shows (pretty much the opposite of most concerts, right?).  There was a very active tape-trading community before the internet made it easy.  Now you can go to the Grateful Dead Internet Archive and choose from approximately two zillion concerts available for free download or streaming.  You’ll hear some crowd noise but the sound quality is usually very good.  For a great example, check out the second set of May 8, 1977 Barton Hall – Cornell University (starts with track 15 – Scarlet Begonias).  A show that’s special to me is April 17, 1971 Dillon Gym – Princeton University, because I was there that night.  If you ever wondered what’s the deal with Pigpen, here’s the answer.

Because of the improvisational nature of their playing, no two shows were exactly alike.  They generally didn’t have a set list; they just made it up as they went along.  It has been said they never played a song the same way twice.  I really enjoy listening to alternate versions of their songs – what did Jerry do on his solo this time, how did it sound when they changed the tempo.  They also liked to segue from one song to the next, sometimes stringing several songs together and playing for 30 minutes or more.  (That’s why the Truckin’ video above ends abruptly — they were going in to another song.)  As a result, a lot of their best stuff goes way past the YouTube time limit.  I was still able to find some things for your enjoyment:

This one’s a trip – on January 18, 1969, they appeared on Hugh Hefner’s Playboy After Dark, playing Mountains of the Moon and St. Stephen, along with some interview footage and a bit of Turn on Your Lovelight at the end:

Two of their songs that became fused together are Scarlet Begonias and Fire on the Mountain, because the segue between the songs worked so well. The following audios are their performances of these two songs, from the May 8, 1977 Cornell concert mentioned above:

Scarlet Begonias

They played many acoustic sets over the years.  Here’s a nice version of Bird Song from October 1980.  I have another version of this song from March 29, 1990 when jazz saxophone great Branford Marsalis played with them (from the So Many Roads (1965-1995) box set).  This was literally the first time they ever played together, and you can hear them figuring it out.

March 28, 1981 Not Fade Away with Pete Townshend of the Who.

June 21, 1989 Touch of Grey. I really like Phil Lesh’s bass in this one.

There are a number of Gratateful Dead concerts available on DVD.  My favorite is The Closing of Winterland (December 31, 1978), the last show at the legendary San Francisco music venue.  The show is great, including some jamming with John Cipollina of Quicksilver Messenger Service.  The extras include two songs from opening act the Blues Brothers (Soul Man and B Movie), with Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn from Booker T. & the MG’s in the band.  Dan Aykroyd of the Blues Brothers does the countdown at midnight while Bill Graham, dressed as Father Time, floats down from the ceiling in a giant joint, and then the Dead start Sugar Magnolia while dodging balloons on the stage.  There’s also a great documentary on the history of Winterland.  The poster for this show is in our poster collection (#8 on the east wall — click here to see it).

There is so much material it was hard to choose what to include — I’ll have to leave the rest to you. I’m sure I left out something important.

You will please note first that the dates of these statements are in chronological order (except of course, Gandalf’s). I put them that way to demonstrate my point, which is this: the idiots who are theoretically in charge of society as its chosen leaders are NOT good people, and this sentiment serves to demonstrate that this problem is not unique to our time. They DO NOT CARE about the little man on the street, nor have they ever done so. They DO NOT make decisions with the benefit of society in mind, and never have. They DO NOT care a whit that their actions are demonstrably responsible for the mess we are in ecologically, and the only future they care about at all is their own.

As an American citizen, I am appalled at how easily the public is manipulated, and angry about the encroachment of personal liberty for the sake of increased security, a pipe dream at best. Personally, I think it is time for the Second American Revolution…..seriously….I’ll leave this subject there, and close with this, from Carl Sagan, “In science it often happens that scientists say, ‘You know, that’s a really good argument; my positions is mistaken,’ and then they actually change their minds and you never hear that old view from them again. It happens every day, but I cannot recall the last time something like that happened in politics or religion.”  For sure and for certain……
______________________________________

–
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
and sometimes
I just sits.

gigoid

Kowabunga!