OK, back in 86 or 87 or 88?? around that time, I was walking down the street in NYC somewhere around Grand Central,, minding my own Beezewax. who do I see? I spy with my little eye, Bobby and a couple of friends (I did not recognize them) walking toward me... the Bobby Band was playing later that night, and, of course, I had tix. It was about 3 in the afternoon.

I step in front of him, put out my hand.

me: 'yo, Bobby, what's up, man? how you doin'?' (we shake hands)

Weir: "Yeah"

me: 'so, like, yo, bobby, I'm going to see your show tonight!!!'

weir: "yeah"

me: 'so, bobby, man, I'll see you later, man. have a great show!!!'

Weir: "yeah."

me: 'nice to meet you, man.'

Weir: "yeah, could I please have my hand back?"

something like that... ( -:

peace.

I was at the Spectrum in Philly, fall of 1989 (I don't remember which night this happened) with my tour sistah Lisa. I liked hanging with her; she had a knack for running into fun people. The night before she had introduced me to her high school buddy, a guy named John who played harmonica and sang, and I got together with John and a few other guys, and we jammed at her house in N.J. Before I split back to Philly, John mentioned his band had a CD coming out, and that he didn't have any copies yet, but he hoped I'd look out for it and get it; it was just self-titled "Blues Traveler." So that was fun.

So we're at the Spectrum, and it's sliding into "Drums." This is one of my fave parts, and I pretty much am entirely unaware of what's going on around me while focusing on the rhythm devils. Our seats were on the floor, on the left side of the front-of-house soundboard. As I was watching, I noticed a couple of guys slip past me in the dark and up the little step-stool onto the platform where the mixing board is. Lisa immediately starts tugging on my shirt, trying to get my attention. I pretended I didn't notice. She did it again; I ignored it again. I was annoyed, because she knew how much I liked Drums. Finally, she just grabbed my face and turned my head a few degrees to the right, and said "look who that is." I had wait for my eyes to adjust to the light, and I quickly realized that Brent was at the soundboard along with some other guy who was probably his security/bodyguard, and they were having a rather heated discussion about something with the foh crew. Of course, I couldn't hear a word, I could only see that they were all kind of pointing with their fingers and gesturing and stuff, like there was some kind of disagreement going on. I figured it was likely something serious for Brent to actually come out to the foh board during the show. a minute later, he and the apparent security guy with him turned and walked past us again. Lisa and I both said hi as he walked by (we were on the end of the row in the two seats closest to the board; I don't think anyone else in our row even noticed him), and he stopped, smiled and said hi and shook our hands, which I thought was pretty damn gracious. They went into a small door that seemed to lead under the first-level seating deck, and a few minutes later he was back on the stage for "Space." I never thought I'd actually get to meet a member of the Grateful Dead during a Grateful Dead concert, but there it was : )

(((marye))) ~ hehehehe . . . I'll bet you just made that up . . . silly . . .

As with any good road trip saga, there's a whole lot of background data to this story, but to keep it short I'll just start with us checking into the Denver Westin in advance of the 12-29-94 shows at McNichols. Somehow we were oblivious to the somewhat 'older' nature of all the usual hippies you'd find taking over a hotel near that night's venue. Once checked in, my buddy wanted to spend a little alone time with his girl (wink wink) so I was exiled for several hours to explore the area in my elevated state of mind. Depending on who you ask it was either a short while later (his version) or eternities later (mine) I decided to see if I was welcome back to the room. I wasn't. I walked back to the elevator, waited, got on when the doors opened. As I got on the elevator a rumpled looking guy with a gray beard, wearing only a towel and swim trunks, got off. It was only as the doors slid shut that I realized I was seeing Jerry himself returning from the pool. All I managed to say was 'Oh my gawd' before I was on my way back down to the lobby. The last I saw, Jerry looked very relieved that he did not have to deal with a fan in his disheveled condition.

It seems we were booked into the same hotel as the band. Later, after the show, my pals were too freaked to go down to the hotel bar. I did manage to convince a mighty good-looking young lady to go down there with me, which turned out to be a half good/half bad idea. Half good, because she did attract the attention of Bobby and some others of the entourage; half bad, because they sure as hell didn't want anything to do with speaking to ME. Oh well, at least I got to hang around with that seriously wierd crowd for a while.

Good times.

wish i was as lucky as you dogs. never met the band, but had a hell of a time with a head named MURPH back in 99 at big boulder, pa aT GATHERING ON THE MOUNTAIN, backstage with jefferson airplane. they were soooo gracious. great bay area people.

nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile