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So laying in bed at 4am I just started cracking up thinking about tonight. Hope you guys dont mind me sharing but I can’t stop laughing. So I suggest to tea and Gr8tfulpair that we should do a zoom call sometime. Tea said let’s do it now. This was like 1am eastern or close. I install the app and start a call and link the invite. A few minutes later Gr8tfulpair joins. We are like where the frick is tea. We chat for a while as I was informed early that his phone was at 1% and the only charger was one that our long lost friend sunny had left and it drains battery vs actually charging it which makes sense and also makes me continue to laugh. Well eventually I get a locked pic of Gr8tfulpair which means battery dead then get a video in our chat group of Tea’s front door cam showing he’s locked out of his house and that’s why he didn’t join the zoom. Still laughing. I miss my tour crew. I miss so many of you. Tour is another home. I miss it .

Yes, I did, and yes there possibly is. Not only that, most of them are on good quality vinyl (as opposed to the cutouts so many will fondly remember) and I took very good care of them under sometimes suboptimal situations. No stacking on a spindle for me. Covers and slips are good too. I have most of the booklets that came with those that came with booklets. One of my favs is the Last Days of the Fillmore box set. The one with Blows Against the Empire is great too. In fact, even now when I do handle CDs I still only hold them by the edges rather than treat them as if they are coasters for drinks.

Yeah - got loose last nite and ended up getting locked outta the house. No spare keys or open windows. I tried to wake up my son but got the wife instead - along with tripping the security camera. She was 91 into dialing 911 until she saw it was me. There was no “I’m just disappointed” just molten lava. Miss the SOTE gang and all you other knuckleheads

Theme song to Sesame Street. Seriously...imagine some late Jerry voice opening with, “Sunny Day.....sweeping the clouds away...”

Just watched The Who: Tommy (1975) again. Never really realized how much the director was trying to emulate Kubrick starting with opening credits lol. I do love the acid queen part. Tina turner rocks it. Covid days. Watching trippy movies at 2pm. Now on to my 3-5 dead shows per night as I drink good bourbon until 2am. Structure left the building 3-4 months ago. About 18 weeks from a serious dose of it. on another note I believe I may be going stir crazy. Pretty sure that’s a DSM-5 condition. Been singing behind blue eyes and changing the words out as odes to my cats. Yeah.....

TO GARCIA by Ken Kesey Hey, Jerry-- what's happening? I caught your funeral. Weird. Big Steve was good. And Grissman. Sweet sounds. But what really stood out -- stands out -- is the thundering silence, the lack, the absence of that golden Garcia lead line, of that familiar slick lick with the uptwist at the end, that merry snake twining through the woodpile, flickering in and out of the loosely stacked chords...a wriggling mystery, bright and slick as fire... suddenly gone. And the silence left in its wake was-- is-- positively ear-splitting. Now they want me to say something about that absence, Jer. Tell some backstage story, share some poigniant reminescence. But I have to tell you, man: I find myself considerably disinclined. I mean, why go against the grain of such an eloquent silence? I remember standing out in the pearly early dawn after the Muir Beach Acid Test, leaning on the top rail of a driftwood fence with you and Lesh and Babbs, watching the world light up, talking about our glorious futures. The gig had been semi-successful and the air was full of exulted fantasies. Babbs whacks Phil on the back. "Just like the big time, huh Phil." "It is! It is the big time! Why, we could cut a chart-busting record to-fucking-morrow!" I was even more optimistic. "Hey, we taped tonight's show. We could release a record tomorrow. "Yeah right--" (holding up that digitally challenged hand the way you did when you wanted to call attention to the truth or the lack thereof) "--and a year from tomorrow be recording a Things Go Better With Coke commercial." You could be a sharp-tongued popper-of-balloons shit-head when you were so inclined, you know. A real bastard. You were the sworn enemy of hot air and commercials, however righteous the cause or lucrative the product. Nobody ever heard you use that microphone as a pulpit. No anti-war rants, no hymns to peace. No odes to the trees and All things Organic. No ego-deaths or born-againnesses. No devils denounced no gurus glorified. No dogmatic howlings that I ever caught wind of. In fact, your steadfast denial of dogma was as close as you ever came to having a creed. And to the very end, Old Timer, you were true to that creed. No commercials. No trendy spins. No bayings of belief. And if you did have any dogma you surely kept it tied up under the back porch where a smelly old hound belongs. I guess that's what I mean about a loud silence. Like Michaelangelo said about sculpting, "The statue exists inside the block of marble. All you have to do is chip away the stone you don't need." You were always chipping away at the superficial. It was the false notes you didn't play that kept that lead line so golden pure. It was the words you didn't sing. So this is what we are left with, Jerry: this golden silence. It rings on and on without any hint of let up...on and on. And I expect it will still be ringing years from now. Because you're still not playing falsely. Because you're still not singing Things Go Better With Coke. Ever your friend, Keez