Bobby in Memphis

 There’s been a lot of recent talk about Further, the project of Bob Weir and Phil Lesh, which has me thinking about my one and only encounter with Bob Weir. Now, I am going to preface this with the fact that I’d only seen the Grateful Dead once.  It was the last show they played in Atlanta. Jerry died later that summer. Back in 1997, I was working at a restaurant in Athens, Ga., getting ready to leave for the Coast Guard in a few weeks. Rat Dog was playing the Georgia Theater and the crew had come in for dinner before the show on Saturday night.  My friend Janice waited on them.  I was working in the kitchen and had no idea of what was about to happen.  One of the girls from the group left her purse at the table, so Janice took it to the show after she got off work.  They were very kind and grateful as you would expect and gave her some back stage passes to the show in Memphis for the next night.  Sunday morning I come in for work and right around lunch time Janice asked me what time was I getting off.  I asked her why and she said she wanted to take me to Memphis to meet Bobby. Since my love for the Grateful Dead began around 1990 and had been steadily growing over the years, I was thrilled with the invitation. However, my boss, who was also my friend, was being difficult and after hours of begging to clock out early, he finally let me off. Ecstatic, I rushed home to clean up and get on the road. 

It was a seven hour drive from Athens to Memphis so we had to boogie if we wanted to make it in time.  I had recently finished reading 'Captain Trips', which blew me away and brought me to tears.  The best part of the book was spinning around and around in my head as we headed west.  Evidently there was a moment on the Canadian Train tour, the night before the last show, when Janice Joplin got the Dead drunk.  They stopped in some town and pooled all their money together, around $500, and spent it on booze.  What a party; The Band, Janice, The Dead, and other various musicians participating. Allegedly, Jerry never got drunk again after that night. So, all the way to Memphis I was hoping for a chance to ask Bobby about this moment in rock n’ roll history.

 We finally get to the venue around 11:30 that night and walk in to “Samson and Delilah”, the first song of the encore.  Today that song is still one of my favorites. The show ends and we head back stage.  The two friends I came with were beautiful women so naturally they were getting a ton of attention from the band. At one point I think we were even asked to ride on the bus to Jacksonville, Fl., eat mushrooms, and go from there.  As tempting as the offer was, it wasn’t a possibility for any of us.  I sat patiently, waiting for Bobby to appear. In the back stage area, there were two rows of seats facing each other. A young couple sat across from me, so high on ecstasy they could hardly see straight.  Finally, Bobby came in with a hand full of mail and sat down in the chair next to me.  Most of the envelopes he opened were filled with wedding invitations.  As he threw the invites in the trash, he said something to me about how ridiculous it was that people invite him to their weddings.  Bob proceeds to sign a few autographs for my friends and me while the couple tells him how he should have played at the Palladium.  They said this over and over again.  I thought, how weird, here you have a moment with a rock n’ roll icon and all you can say is, "Dude, you should have played the Palladium." 

 I could tell by the look on Bob's face how little he cared about what the wasted couple was talking about.  I thought this was the moment, so I looked at him and said, "I just finished reading Captain Trips, and…"  By his reaction, one would have thought I had just insulted the man’s mother.  He stood up, looked down at me, and said, "I am not Captain Trips," and walked off pissed! I’m still not sure what all that was about.  All I wanted was to hear about the night that Janice got the Dead drunk, a little piece of real Americana, but Bob wasn’t having any of it. 

 Within a few minutes we were back on the road, going the wrong way, trying to get back to Athens.  Maybe one day I’ll get to hear about that night on the train. Maybe I won’t.  Either way, I still got back stage to meet Bob Weir!  Short shorts and all!