Anyone who knows me, knows that I love the Grateful Dead. For those who don't know, the Grateful Dead is a rock band formed in San Francisco in the early 1960s. I have been listening to them for nearly 40 years, and attended over 35 of their concerts.
Sadly, on August 9, 1995, lead singer and original band member, Jerry Garcia passed away. The legions of fans thought this was the end. Happily, the remaining band members continued the journey in many different forms and incantations, both with surviving members, or on solo projects. Many other bands formed as tribute bands, playing Grateful Dead music. One such band, Dark Star Orchestra (DSO), has been performing for twenty years. I have attended 25 of their performances. The difference between DSO and other tribute bands is that DSO recreates entire past Grateful Dead concerts song for son, transporting the listener to a past show.
Part of the mystique of the band is the fans, better known as Dead Heads. You haven't lived until you have walked through the parking lots prior to a Grateful Dead concert. You would see a multi-colored sea of tie dye shirts and happy people partying before the show.
In late November of 2016, I had tickets to a DSO show in Concord, New Hampshire, USA. As usual, my friends and I went to a local pub for some dinner and drinks before the show. The pub was filled with many concert goers all listening to Grateful Dead music and having a good time. While enjoying drinks with my friends, this older couple came in and sat down at a table near us. The wife commented that she liked my Grateful Dead concert shirt and was distressed that she forgot to bring one herself.
Now, part of the mystique of Dead Heads is that many of them are extremely generous, and would give the shirt right off their backs. That is exactly what I did. I asked the women if she wanted to wear my shirt (I had a base layer underneath). She protested that she couldn't take my shirt. I insisted that she could, and immediately took it off and handed it to her. To say she was shocked was an understatement.
After putting the shirt on over her blouse, she said that we could meet after the show and she would give it back. I reminded her that there were about 2000 people going to the show and we probably wouldn't be able to find each other. I said to her "Let's leave it all up to the Fates. If I see you after the show, you can give me back my shirt. If not, keep it and wear it in good health." All the other patrons in the pub were both equally shocked and impressed that I literally gave the shirt off my back to a total stranger. I didn't think to much more about it and continued to drink my beer.
Finally, the time came to go into the show, which was General Admission. My friend Rob and I made our way as far up front as we could, and found seats about 11 rows back from the stage on the the left hand side. I looked ahead, and there two rows directly in front of us, was the woman I gave my shirt to. I could not believe my good luck! The show went for about two and half hours and we all enjoyed ourselves tremendously. At the end of the show, good to her word, the woman gave me my shirt back and thanked me profusely, saying I had made her night. We both came away with a story of how a good deed was rewarded in the end. Karma can work in many ways! Anyway, be cool to each other and rock on! Thanks for reading!
