White Mountain State Public TV is showing a concert tonight from 1980, The Grateful Dead at Radio City Music Hall.
I must admit to being perhaps the only U.S. citizen born in 196_ who has never consciously listened to The Grateful Dead. Sure, I know their fans are called Deadheads. I have friends who proudly claim to be among them.
I once worked with two young women who worked only to support their travels to hear the Dead in concert. Both those young ladies were inclined to forgetfulness. Both used to joke, when they messed up at work, about having a brain seizure.
Both of them developed benign brain tumors. Which caused seizures.
This did nothing to increase my interest in The Grateful Dead.
But tonight, I listened. I identified Jerry Garcia and explained to The Princess who he was. She loved Cherry Garcia ice cream. I discussed their music with Snowman, who knows of them, but like his mother, had never listened.
The Princess allowed as how all the songs we heard sounded about the same.
I suspect being in some sort of altered state changes the way a person hears them, I said, feeling, oh, superior. I mean, after all, Deadheads are stoners, right? They’re obviously not sharp, competent people like yours truly.
A pledge break came on, and the screen filled with images of giveaway items.
"Why does their stuff have skulls all over it?"
I wish I could tell you I was not the one who asked the question.
Snowman answered, "Because they’re DEAD?!?!!!" He put his head in his hands and sighed.
I think maybe I need some sleep.