01/11/2026
Held a little vigil for myself last night and after live dead air with downtown Deb allowing for transformative dancing and tears - things got weir-d and I suddenly strangely felt called to my damn paperwork! Thinking about Bobby being a hard worker and the inspiration I got from seeing him play. Seeing him transform over all the years. I don’t need to say how many times I saw him, the truth is I don’t know because I lost count. At age 14 I saw my first show with Bobby Weir, the last at age 52. I had a friend who died about 10 years ago who knew Bobby personally and would sometimes find me and drag me to the front row (thanks S - you are so missed right now). As a former seller of vintage I sold Bobby shorts (what deadheads call cut off jeans shorts) on dead and co tour’s shakedown street. Bobby’s daughters came to see us on shakedown in Boulder and bought some vintage. That really meant the world to me. A bit later, I started and named my psychotherapy practice after a dead song’s lyrics because I believe that the four winds are actually calling us safely home to ourselves if we can learn to listen. Bobby would frequently say “there’s work to be done” to those around him, so the calling to do my work last night makes sense. Let’s get back to work on embodying some of the messages that exist in the songs and in the original subculture (and thanks to Dr. Adams for her sociological analysis that I strangely participated in long before pursuing academics myself). I have learned at a very deep level that it’s the songs that heal us. And we know the music will never stop. May the collective grief of the deadheads become the love this broken country and damaged earth desperately needs right now. May you find yourself in the spirit of a wolf by a silver stream 🐺