Never Thought I’d Say This…

On the way to a ballgame this week, a couple buddies and I were comparing notes on the strangest conversations we’ve had with our sons.  These weren’t “birds and bees” talks but conversations from the “I never thought I’d be saying this” category.  When the conversation came around to me, I didn’t have to think twice.  It was a discussion in the car with my 14 year old.

Accelerating onto the freeway onramp, I began my preamble. “A couple things we need to go over before we get there.  Think of this like a giant party with the best friends you’ve never met.  It’s about as much fun as you can have.  You’ll meet a bunch of people who are super nice.  Some people are a little different but everyone is nice.  For tonight, try not to think of anything or anyone as weird or bad, just different.  Good different.  There’s just one rule:  Don’t eat or drink ANYTHING unless I give it to you.  I mean A-NEE-THING.  Promise?”

“OK, I promise.  But why?”

This question is the downside to taking my 14-year old son to a Dead and Company concert.  No sense trying to hide it, he’ll see it one day anyhow and better he sees it with his sober dad.

“Well, some people try to have an even better time.  They take a drug called acid.  It makes you hallucinate.  Know what that means?”

Head shake.

“It’s a drug that makes you, well, see things and colors differently.  It can be put in anything and you wouldn’t know it.  It can be in candy, cake, on a sandwich, anything.  No one would purposely try to hurt you but they might think they’re helping you have a better time.  Or they just might not be thinking at all.  It’s nothing to worry about, just stick with me.”

I’m a well closeted Deadhead.  Unless you ride in my car, you’d have no idea.  It’s been a pleasure watching my youngest come to love the music the way I do.  He recognizes most songs in the first few notes.  Taking him to a Dead show (or as close as one can come in 2018) was admittedly a bold move.  My parents wouldn’t have considered going, with or without an impressionable teenager.  I have wonderful parents but openminded acceptance of what they view as strange smelling long haired flower children grooving to Sugar Magnolia was simply a bridge too far.  I’m sure they felt there was a distinct possibility I might strike out in a mushroom induced haze, wandering through a chapter of life in which each paragraph is a new Dead show and promiscuous sex the punctuation.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted my own son to get from this experience but I knew I wanted him to have the experience and see that he could have fun doing it sober.

Naturally, we arrived early.  If you don’t get to the show early, you’re not going to walk Shakedown Street and without that, let’s be honest, were you really even there?  For the uninitiated, Shakedown Street is the craft and food fair set up outside the venue where one can buy unauthorized t-shirts and other memorabilia as well as food and drink. I’m sure a person might also locate somewhat less legal goods, were he of a mind.  It didn’t take long in this arena for the questions to bubble up.

“What’s that smell?”

“Pot.”

“No, not that smell.  I’ve smelled that before – remember that Giant’s game?  The other smell.”

“Oh, you mean the patchouli oil!”  This led us down the road of patchouli uses, most common of which, far as I know, is masking body odor.

Lawn seating at a Shoreline Amphitheater Dead Show is about as predictable as San Francisco weather.  You can’t be sure of anything so just be as prepared as possible.  I was careful to find a patch of grass around a number of other families with kids.  It felt like the eye of the hurricane but with a clear view to the maelstrom just feet away.  I wanted Will to have the experience but if we could avoid having a doobie passed our way, all the better.

Before the first set, we were standing and I was pointing out to Will several people with recording gear.  The Dead are almost completely unique in letting people record shows to enjoy again on their own and share with friends.  Each show is completely different and as Jerry Garcia once said, “after we play the show, we’re done with it – the fans can have it”.  It was during this explanation that I felt a hand on my shoulder.  There was a hand on Will’s shoulder as well.  The hands were attached to a 50-something woman with a kind face, possibly made kinder by the wine bottle on her nearby blanket.  “Oh my God, is this a father-son show?”  Then to Will, “Is this your first show?”  Will nicely smiled and answered her questions but I could tell he didn’t know quite what to think of this woman, of similar age to his bio teacher but much more into hugging.

Bob Weir started the first set with “Playing in the Band” and the crowd immediately rose.  We rose with too and enjoyed the show thoroughly.  There were some songs new to Will but he loved hearing “Tennessee Jed”, “Friend of the Devil”, “China Cat” and “The Wheel”, among others.  It was a fantastic night and while we talked about it afterward, I don’t know exactly what he took from it.  My hope is that my son sees it as one night with a diverse group of people, all looking out for each other, smiling, laughing, remembering and just enjoying a short journey together.