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If anyone has a copy of this
I was at this run
I got these on tape and
A kind of forgettable show, except for Phil's problem bass
Endless Summer
3 hot nights
what a year
"Funiculi Funicula"
"Funiculi Funicula"
Weir was having trouble with his onstage rig, to the point where he aimed a kick at the offending equipment. The rest of the group played this bouncy little Italian number to further tease him and amuse the audience. The next night my buddy called out a request for "Funiculi Funicula," and you could tell who had been at the first show by whether they laughed or not.
June 7, 1977
The day one of my dearest friends was born. A pint sized gal with a heart as big as the Southwest where she was born and raised.
By the way, one of my favorite box sets.
The Show Before the Show
The spring of 1977 was a heady time. Not only did I get to catch the Dead on 5/4/77 at the Palladium in NYC and then just a few days after that on 5/7/77 at Boston Garden, I also got to watch as my apartment building burned to the ground about a week later!
Being suddenly without a lot of possessions changes you, at least for a while. So realizing I had nothing better to do (having dropped out of college only a week before), I decided to head out to California to see what I could see.
My wanderings brought me to Kansas City a week or so later, where I learned that the Dead were planning a 3-night stand at the Winterland in San Francisco in just two weeks. I went to a Ticketron outlet and snagged seats for the second night, 6/8/77 and continued my way to SF
I found SF to be a really fun city. To make money, I hung around Fisherman's Wharf and sold soapstone carvings I'd made. It was enough cash to keep me going and I met some new friends while I was doing that.
On the afternoon of 6/7/77, one of my new friends wandered over to where I was selling my stuff. She asked me if I was going to catch the Dead that night. I told her I had a ticket for the 6/8/77 show, but not for that night.
"Let's go get you one then!" she said as she pulled me along to the bus station. I protested, arguing that the show had to be sold out already. She laughed at me and then gently explained that Bill Graham always left a few hundred tickets at the door to be sold a couple hours before show time. Sure enough, when we got to the Winterland, there were tickets being sold at the window and I bought one.
We went inside and discovered that Bill Graham was on-stage with a mic in his hand, calling out relay races that were being held on the floor. Teams of folks from different cities were there in an informal round-robin tournament, competing for free tickets to the next night's show. It was a fun time and Graham seemed to be having a ball calling the races, urging on the runners, and hyping up the crowd.
In between races, I went back into the Winterland lobby just as a horde of motorcyclists came roaring up to the front entrance. They began unloading themselves and what appeared to be an endless supply of cases of beer. It was the Hell's Angels. Bill Graham's security people went out to tell them that they couldn't bring the beer inside.
"It's okay" said one of the bikers as he hefted a couple cases under his arms, "Jerry says it's alright."
No it wasn't, the security people responded quietly. You can't bring beer into the Winterland.
"Well then" said the same biker, "Then Bill says it's okay."
Realizing that a riot with 40 or so angry Hell's Angels was going to put a real damper on the evening, the security people backed off and welcomed the Angles in. The Angels for their part happily offered free beer to the security people (and to anyone else who was around) and peace reigned supreme.
It was an excellent evening already and the band hadn't even taken the stage
The spring of 1977 was a heady time. Not only did I get to catch the Dead on 5/4/77 at the Palladium in NYC and then just a few days after that on 5/7/77 at Boston Garden, I also got to watch as my apartment building burned to the ground about a week later!
Being suddenly without a lot of possessions changes you, at least for a while. So realizing I had nothing better to do (having dropped out of college only a week before), I decided to head out to California to see what I could see.
My wanderings brought me to Kansas City a week or so later, where I learned that the Dead were planning a 3-night stand at the Winterland in San Francisco in just two weeks. I went to a Ticketron outlet and snagged seats for the second night, 6/8/77 and continued my way to SF
I found SF to be a really fun city. To make money, I hung around Fisherman's Wharf and sold soapstone carvings I'd made. It was enough cash to keep me going and I met some new friends while I was doing that.
On the afternoon of 6/7/77, one of my new friends wandered over to where I was selling my stuff. She asked me if I was going to catch the Dead that night. I told her I had a ticket for the 6/8/77 show, but not for that night.
"Let's go get you one then!" she said as she pulled me along to the bus station. I protested, arguing that the show had to be sold out already. She laughed at me and then gently explained that Bill Graham always left a few hundred tickets at the door to be sold a couple hours before show time. Sure enough, when we got to the Winterland, there were tickets being sold at the window and I bought one.
We went inside and discovered that Bill Graham was on-stage with a mic in his hand, calling out relay races that were being held on the floor. Teams of folks from different cities were there in an informal round-robin tournament, competing for free tickets to the next night's show. It was a fun time and Graham seemed to be having a ball calling the races, urging on the runners, and hyping up the crowd.
In between races, I went back into the Winterland lobby just as a horde of motorcyclists came roaring up to the front entrance. They began unloading themselves and what appeared to be an endless supply of cases of beer. It was the Hell's Angels. Bill Graham's security people went out to tell them that they couldn't bring the beer inside.
"It's okay" said one of the bikers as he hefted a couple cases under his arms, "Jerry says it's alright."
No it wasn't, the security people responded quietly. You can't bring beer into the Winterland.
"Well then" said the same biker, "Then Bill says it's okay."
Realizing that a riot with 40 or so angry Hell's Angels was going to put a real damper on the evening, the security people backed off and welcomed the Angles in. The Angels for their part happily offered free beer to the security people (and to anyone else who was around) and peace reigned supreme.
It was an excellent evening already and the band hadn't even taken the stage
The day one of my dearest friends was born. A pint sized gal with a heart as big as the Southwest where she was born and raised.
By the way, one of my favorite box sets.
Weir was having trouble with his onstage rig, to the point where he aimed a kick at the offending equipment. The rest of the group played this bouncy little Italian number to further tease him and amuse the audience. The next night my buddy called out a request for "Funiculi Funicula," and you could tell who had been at the first show by whether they laughed or not.