Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Nashville Needs to Stop Fooling Itself. Here's How I'm Voting for Mayor...and WHY.





By Peter Rodman

Most of us like to 'joke' that every time we go downtown, Nashville seems to have changed into a completely different city. 
Downtown Nashville, Tennessee: City, or Theme Park?

But it's no joke; that's how fast we've been growing.  
In retrospect, the recipe was fairly simple:  
Take one national TV show (Nashville), one very tourist-friendly mayor, lots of prime land, a dearth of residential properties downtown; Add several hundred thousand millennials, and stir. 
Nashville had the advantage--rare among cities our size--of having virtually no pre-existing residential housing in its core area, as recently as ten years ago.  
So in a way, this city was a blank jigsaw puzzle when Mayor Karl Dean took office, and nobody likes to move the pieces around more than our mayor.
Even the old standbys are harder to get to, now.

Let me be clear: 
I think Mayor Dean's done a fine job, picking every single piece of low-hanging fruit there was. Someone had to do it, and he did it very well.  
His main job, as he saw it, was to once-and-for-all establish our downtown area as a national, regional, and local destination. And guess what: It worked!
The only problem is, the same square mile is like a pair of dress shoes he polishes over and over again, while the rest of the city gets treated like a forgotten pair of sneakers, way in the back of the closet.

Again, much of what has happened has been for the better...but Mayor Dean's failure to redirect his loving gaze toward any other area of this vast city has been positively maddening.  
The former 'Hickory Hollow Mall'--now hollow, indeed.
I like to call it 'The Mayor Dean Mall.' 
Providing a mere few 'meeting rooms' among miles of empty
storefronts shows his utter lack of interest in South Nashville.

Tiny sections of our newly vacant shopping malls have become libraries, or 'community meeting halls' ...but they still look like haunted ruins from a post-nuclear era.  Greer Stadium is a ghost town now, having been abandoned for a gleaming new stadium--closer to downtown, of course. 
Nolensville Road has become, in Dean's own words, a favorite "ethnic corridor," instead of seeing any gleaming skyscrapers of its own--just 3 or 4 miles south of Broadway and 2nd Avenue.  But who wants to be in a left-out-of-the-spoils "corridor?"  It sounds like the children's table, at Thanksgiving. 
What's wrong with this picture?  

The answer is, "A lot."
Mindless, rampant construction of pricey condos--without
any basic amenities other than bars and restaurants--does not
bode well for Nashville's future,  if we truly plan to be a "major city."



The real question should be "What do we want from our NEXT mayor?"
More of the same?  
Many seem to think so...but one trip downtown usually has those same 'townies' swearing they personally won't be back, any time soon.  
In broad daylight, hordes of drunken revelers clank their way along the hopelessly gridlocked streets,
insistently blaring 'sing-alongs' out the sides of every limo, tandem bike bar, or open-air tour bus in sight. 

Downtown Nashville has become what my Mom used to call (insert NY accent here)... "a mawb scene." 

I was at Mardi Gras several times during the '90s--before it all began to turn surly, when New Orleans newscasters and city officials began to use (I am not making this up) the "total nightly garbage tonnage" left in the streets, to measure their year-over-year success.
That was the tipping point for me.  That and the huge rats, openly feasting on piles of discarded fast food and vomit, as the sun rose over Royal Street. 
I haven't been back since.
Nashville is thisclose to becoming that place; that safe haven for unruliness, uncivil behavior, and unfettered growth. It's morphed into the 'theme park' that party people have been longing for, ever since Hurricane Katrina brought the last one to its knees. 

Downtown Nashville~ Summer, 2015
All Photographs Copyright 2015 by Peter Rodman,
except as indicated below.
The sheer numbers of tourists and downtown 'events' are sucking our  police resources away from countless other neighborhoods, to serve a single square mile of our 7,500 square mile city. 
Meanwhile, with close to 100,000 brand new downtown residents, there's still not a drug store, still not a grocery store, still no hardware store--none of the basic daily needs that tens of thousands who recently moved in must have, in order to stay downtown.  (READ: In order to live there!)
Even The Boss wants to know:
Who should be Nashville's next Mayor?
So here we are, with seven candidates, at least half of whom I'd vote for, if I had to--and all of whom I admire, for even trying.  
Very early on, I sorted out the ones who seemed to me to be either 'single issue' candidates, or ones whose political philosophy I found incompatible with my own politics, which are unabashedly liberal.
Having said all that...
                               Ahem...!
I shall now list my preferences for Mayor, in reverse order. Those eliminated from consideration--even though they seem like good people, genuinely concerned for our city--begin here: 

7.)  Linda Eskind Rebrovick. Her message has been nothing, if not consistent:  
I am a high tech person. I think almost everything from traffic flow to garbage collection can be done by installing better computer systems. 
Well, I don't. 
And it's not the pantsuits or the garbage truck or the fancy SUV or even the family McMansion, I swear. (Okay, it might've been the hairspray.) Either way...

Goodbye, Linda. 


6.) David Fox.  I saw my first David Fox ad on Fox News. (I should add "no relation" here, but policy wise, I'm afraid there is.)  While Mr. Fox pushes a lot of local-friendly buttons, his underlying message has always been, "Let's cut the budget.  We need to worry about debt."   
To be fair, the precise words of his slogan are: 

"End reckless spending, balance the budget, hold the line on taxes."
These are all code words for GOP "austerity," which is utter misery.  Ask Greece.
Right wing capitalists always decry government spending and debt...unless we're bailing them out. 
In truth, I prefer what they say behind closed doors, and I think it applies to government even more than business:  
You've got to spend money, to make money.
So...
"No thank you,  Mr. Fox."

5.) Jeremy Kane.  Some very smart people I know, almost all with school-aged kids, are voting for Mr. Kane.  I respect their decision, but I can't do it.  
Here's why:  Mr. Kane, too, is basically a 'one issue' candidate, whose experience is rooted in having established a highly successful series of (seven) "charter schools." 
Right there is where he and I have a problem. 
Understand, I'm totally for anyone establishing a new school--be it private, charter, religious, or even home!


Where we part company is when Nashville's 'chosen few' get to siphon their school tax dollars out of our public school system, because "Hey, we're just gonna take the same amount you would have used to educate our kid, and find another option!" 
Where to begin, where to begin...
This is one of the more ridiculous (and damaging) trends in America today.  It says, "Public schools are failing, so let's drain the remaining money out of 'em, and redirect it where we want it, for our own kids, on an individual basis!" 
Think about this.  

I have no children, yet gladly pay my school taxes, and always have.  But should I be allowed to reallocate my public school tax contributions? 
Of COURSE not! 
Jeremy Kane touts his flagship school as having a "100% graduation rate." 
That's marvelous.  Also easy to do, if you only have one school to run...or seven. 
Our problems with
public education will never be solved unless we ALL PITCH IN--each of us, with equal tax dollars, to the PUBLIC school system--not abandon it. 
In the airline business, pilots often say, "Sure, we can build a plane that is 100% crash proof.  The science is there. But it would be the only plane on Earth...because it would cost as much to make that one plane, as it does all other planes combined." 
Bingo.  

That, my friends, is why charter schools need to fund themselves. It's easy to make a few schools great; much harder to make every school better.
I don't care what you do with your own money, but your school tax dollars are as much mine as they are yours.  That original sense of "all in" seems lost on people today...but it's how we built what used to be the greatest school system on the planet. We need to go back to properly funding our public schools--all of us.

We as a society should not be charged with helping you as a parent find that "perfect school."  
Pay for it yourself.
That's why I have to say "Goodbye, Jeremy; nice school, though!"


4.)  Howard Gentry. This is a guy I like a lot. He's honest, steadfast, caring, measured, cautious, gets along with everybody...did I mention he's careful?  Safe, too.  
I have no doubt he is perfectly capable of running this town, and we share many of the same political leanings. He has more governmental experience here than any other candidate.
But I've also gotten plenty of good naps during his televised hearings, and deep sleep--while an ongoing problem of mine--is not something I look for, from a Mayor. 

Great public servant, very nice guy, extremely competent.
I can't say enough nice things.
...without getting verrry...verrry...sleeeeeeepy.  
G'night, Howard.

3.) Megan Barry.  Megan was my first choice, in the early going...primarily because every townie I know said she should be.  
Unfortunately, I'm still a newbie--having "only" been here 25 years--but unless there's some secret-coded message they received at a White Elephants gig I missed, during the '80s...
I'm sorry...I just don't get it. 

I've checked out all her ads and debate commentaries.  Ms. Barry's first word is almost always "continue."
She wants to continue (my words here) Mayor Dean's myopic focus on easy stuff-- like gilding an already gleaming downtown, or luring high profile developers and corporations to that area to further brighten (and no doubt, whiten) our touristy theme park. 
I do not dismiss my friends' choice lightly, nor do I doubt their good judgement.  But when you ask why Megan Barry is the best candidate for mayor, most of the answers boil down to "Trust me.  I've been here forever.  It's Megan Barry you want."
To say she's connected would be an understatement. If girls can be good ol' boys too, Megan's in the club. 

One drive through Belle Meade or Green Hills will show you where all the "BARRY" yard signs are.  
They're on the nice lawns.  
You know...the lawns that are manicured by immigrants from South Nashville, which hasn't changed that much at all under Mayor Dean, and certainly not for the better. 
You can see them piling into rusty pickup trucks at dawn, where I live. Grown men, sitting in the back of an open cab, squeezed between lawn tractors and edgers, and shovels and such.  
That's because they have no cars, and there's no damn trains that run from south to north, in these parts.  
And even when Mayor Dean proposed his phony "mass transit" bus lane (the 'AMP'), he left out North and South Nashville altogether!
Believe it or not, our current Mayor had planned to spend $75 million connecting the already-connected...from East Nashville to West End.  

Once again, he dissed the very people who need mass transit most--the hotel maids, the landscapers, the office workers, the waiters, drivers, and valets--all of 'em, apparently just not good enough to be fully included in the "It City." 

Megan Barry supported that insulting 'AMP' bus program, and now claims  she'll improve it.
But to paraphrase Pink Floyd, if I may:
"We don't need no... stinkin' bus lanes."

Sorry, Megan.  
You were my first choice, because my well-connected pals told me you should be.  Don't get me wrong, you seem real nice, and very sincere.
But my friends aren't that much smarter than me... so I'm gonna listen to me, this time.


2. ) Charles Robert Bone.  I gotta say, Megan Barry's finest hour as a candidate was when they asked her what her favorite song was, during that first debate, and she said, "All I can think of right now is Vote for Bone!"
This guy got out front early, and blanketed the airwaves with a song we'll all remember for years to come. [see video, above] And he's right:  "Donelson's connected to Creve Hall," etc. 
I love a lot of his message, and I think he's eminently qualified.  I wouldn't be sad to see him elected, because at least there's a chance he'll do what he's saying he'd do.  Improve public schools, mass transit, etc.
I'm all for it.

Oddly enough, the earworm which helped us forget how similar his name is to Bill Boner also made us forget Bone's first name! 
Quick.  Close your eyes.  What's Bone's full name?

Gotcha!  
It's Charles Robert Bone.
And to him I say, 'Close, but no cigar...'

I thank he and all the other candidates, for putting themselves on the line for our fair city.
But right now, we need more.

We need someone whose first priority is mass transit, and by this I mean REAL TRAINS, connecting everything from South Nashville to Hendersonville, to Bellevue to Hermitage, to downtown and back...every single day, all day long...just like real cities have. 
We need someone who recognizes how great downtown is, but realizes it's time to turn our attention (and tax dollars) toward other areas that have been seriously neglected by Mayor Dean--who's done a fabulous job, but only from the Gulch to Germantown. 
That's it.  
But it is not enough...not even for an "It" city.

When asked during the first debate, how he would fund mass transit, Bill Freeman won me over, right then and there:
"We've got to start to work on this mass transit system. I like to say that we're 10 years late in getting started on the program, and it'll probably take 8 to 10 years to complete it. So we're 20 years behind, before we turn a spade of dirt.

"But we've got to get started on a REAL mass transit system that connects all the communities in the mid-state area--Murfreesboro, Franklin, Lebanon--we've got to connect all those areas.  They've got to participate in the solution, too.
"It's gonna take help from everyone--from the courthouse to the White House, and everybody in between.
"I know there's no funding available right now, for that...but that pendulum will swing, and it will change, and in two years, or three years, or four years, there will be funding...and we'll go after that funding, aggressively.
"We can't not work on it today, just because there's no funding today. We'll find the funding!
"If you rank the Top 50 Cities in the country in terms of population, Nashville ranks #49.
"The Top 48 have one thing in common: They all have mass transit. We're #49. Don't have it. 

"It's our time. We need to start workin' on it, and we'll find the funding to do that."
The entire quote above was Freeman's off-the-cuff, ad libbed answer to a question about how we could avoid "becoming Atlanta," in the first mayoral debate. (linked below)
That's what sold me on him.


Nashville needs to stop fooling itself.  
Just the wacky omission of basic retail essentials for its downtown residents says it all, about how painfully out-of-his-element our current mayor is, when it comes to truly understanding how big cities operate. 
Name me another major city without even a downtown Walgreen's, let alone a grocery store.   
You can't, because it doesn't exist!   

The sad fact is, people can't live on hotel gift shop food, or Jack Daniels flavored beef jerky from a souvenir store.  And they can't eat in restaurants, bars, and sidewalk cafes every day of their lives.  It simply cannot be done.
Mayor Dean (quite literally) forgot that.

This city's downtown has indeed become a 'theme park,' based upon a naive Mayor's dream that will surely turn to a nightmare, unless we begin to accommodate the thousands of real live people suddenly living and working down there.  

This means addressing exactly the kinds of things Bill Freeman has been talking about: 
  • Real mass transit, connecting outlying areas to downtown, and vice versa; 
  • Real improvements in PUBLIC education; and a
  • Realistic view of how the core city 'fits in' with the vast majority of Nashville residents, who do not live downtown.

NO other candidate has had the guts to stand up and tell the blunt truth about what is wrong with Nashville, and how to fix it.
That is why I am voting for 
Bill Freeman for Mayor of Nashville. 



 





















__________________________ 
This opinion column and all photographs herein(*except the photograph of Bill Freeman) are Copyright 2015 by Peter Rodman.  All Rights Reserved.
However...because this is a VERY important election, you are welcome to re-share this column. Thank you.  ~PR

Here's a link to the first Mayoral Debate, in its entirety.
Make up your own mind...and please, no matter who you vote for...VOTE!!!
















Monday, July 6, 2015

Dead Last? Nope...Dead's BEST!




By Peter Rodman


Hey, man..
Just got back from a Grateful Dead show!  
Oh, yeah…the LAST Grateful Dead show.
But no, I wasn’t at Soldier Field in Chicago...

I was in somebody’s living room, here in Nashville--with about a dozen earnestly appreciative and lively people of all ages, at a 'watch party,' for the pay-per-view 'live stream' of their very last concert.  
And I’m writing this blog for a number of reasons…all good. 

First: I cannot remember actually convening for such a thing in quite this way--spread around a great stereo, enjoying the vibe of unexpected solos and perfect arrangements, sharing a beer or a coke with a bunch of disparate souls there to pay homage--since…well, you’re really not gonna believe this:  

June 1, 1967.  
That was the day ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’ was
released…and since Louie Feldman had the best homemade speaker system in town, that was where we all decided to gather for the great unfolding (literally) of the Beatles’ most elaborate and wildly innovative LP cover (and music) up until then. To say it was a mind-blower would be a serious understatement.

But I digress...
Here at Craig’s place, we eventually migrated from the living

room (with the 'BIG' TV) a few steps down, to the LISTENING room...with its wide array of speakers, high ceilings, feng shui perfection, and a decidedly small TV screen (compared to his other one, a postage stamp) to witness this humble bit of history:
Yep...The Grateful Dead’s very last show.  
(This, you can be forgiven for describing as a "Ripley's Believe It or Not." Ask fans of The Band, The Who, the Eagles, and even…yeah, yeah, yeah...the Beatles--who miraculously exhumed John Lennon in 1995, for one last record…and then…WHOA!...another one.) 

The mysteries of this 'historic' era of ours abound, as we all know.
Meanwhile back in NearSouth Nashville...
It took about two hours, before everybody got downstairs to actually LISTEN to the show, and several
This is us in Craig's living room, earlier tonight--June 5, 2015.
...NO it isn't!  This is the crowd at a Grateful Dead show in
Boulder's 'Folsom Field,' during September of 1972.
Photograph Copyright 1972/2015 by Peter Rodman.
aspects of this experience floored me--the first being that 15 year old kid inside me, who emerged fully formed this evening--in a room full of people I knew only about as well as I knew Louie Feldman’s friends, 48 years ago.
Next was the utterly unexpected magnificence of the music--some of which I’d heard/seen on YouTube the previous night and in recent days--but none of which came close to the stellar interplay between the players, on this, their final night.
Yep. 
It actually took ’em this many 'Fare Thee Well’ shows to completely perfect the vibe they were going for…and if you ask me, the Grateful Dead hit it out da park, Sunday night.
It was a walk-off grand slam.  

And it unfolded like a precious piece of origami, well beyond the 'bar tricks' skillset of any of the Chicago bartenders undoubtedly standing there in Soldier Field, actually watching them in person.

 Not to be too reverent about it... there were, of course,
Until tonight, this is the girl I saw every single Grateful
Dead show with, from '68 to '82 or so. I know what
you're thinking: Was she blind, or what? 
How she ended up with me, I do not know.
But call me sexist: every Dead Head needs a
Dead Head Babe...and quite frankly, it was
she who turned me on to them, with 'Anthem of the Sun,'
back in '68. That's some pretty amazing stuff! 
(...the music, too.)
several points of humor to be found…and although me and my friends kept the snark to a bare minimum, a pan-and-scan view of those gray-hairs dancing at field level drew the biggest spontaneous eruption of laughter, on this particular night. 
“It’s so nice of them to play a nursing home,” I quipped.
And then I zipped it.

Why?
Because great music, well rendered, perfectly mixed, and brilliantly edited leaves not much room for anything else but awe.
(And I swear, this thing looked like a completely edited movie already …amazingly so!) 

I’ve seen the Dead more times than would be fair to mention.
Honest, I'm not tryin' to "one up" ya...it's just that you get old, and what the hell other advantage does that give you, but "I was there in '68?"   So forgive me, but the highlight reel starts there.
Getting rained on for six or
seven hours straight was almost like
an Initiation Rite, for Deadheads.
By 1972, I felt like a Charter Member!

They include the Fillmore East '68 show (Anthem of the Sun!), Boulder in '72 (See pics...I still call it 'The Bertha Tour'), Red Rocks (it was the '70s, man...like, I don't recall the actual year...is that okaaay, or what, maaan?) and 1980...when they literally did have only "A Touch of Grey."  

Add to that a few one-on-one interviews--most notably with Bob Weir, an affable and easy goin' guy (who unfortunately tends to stiffen up a bit, once the mic is turned on) and there you have it.
I never considered myself a ‘Deadhead’ per say, but I guess my bona fides are as good as any but the craziest fanatics, whom even the band couldn't really stand being around, for very long.* See interview clip, at the bottom of this page.
Folsom Field~ Boulder, Colorado, 1972
Photograph Copyright 1972/2015 by Peter Rodman.
     

These kids actually quit their jobs to live in vans, surf friends' couches, and bathe (if they bathed at all) in local streams from coast to coast, just so they wouldn't miss a single lick of Jerry’s guitar brilliance…which was NOT always brilliant, but was always adventurous--although you couldn't convince his most spaced-out acolytes of anything but that he was a God.
Then they'd black out at the show, essentially missing the whole thing they swore they'd never miss! 
And this wasn't just a few people either...it was a known fact, the 'Medic Tent' at Dead shows was always busier than any 'merch table' you've ever seen.  Dozens and dozens and dozens of casualties, ranging from simple dehydration to serious drug overdoses.
Even Bob Weir found this aspect of their fan worship disturbing, back when we first talked in the '70s--and he worried aloud that Jerry Garcia (already an uncomfortable icon, then) might eventually succumb to the whim of some disturbed (or even 'overly generous') fan. 

Let me be brutally honest with you.

I loved the Dead before they 'went commercial' (with Workingman's Dead-- their 1970 bow to Crosby, Stills and  Nash--and the first Dead record with concise songs, detailed harmonies and a semblance of structure) which, at the time, enraged their hardcore fans. 
And I liked 'em even better after that.
But as me and my girlfriend became older--after college, after group houses, after our 'experimentation' phase gave way to watching All in the Family and telling Sting I had to wrap it up early, because I wanted to go home to bed--well, those "live" Dead audiences became a nuisance I was just a whole lot less interested in being near. 
In fairness to me, please understand--Boulder was the Hippie Capital of America, in the early '70s.
And running a groovy record store 'On the Hill' in that town--which had become the specific 'Mecca' for druggies, misfits, dreamers, and street people--it got harder and harder to want to stand around smelling piss and body odor, while some guy puked next to you, and another guy had a bright gold beard, inadvertently spray-painted while he huffed his way to oblivion.
I no longer wanted to stand for six hours in a seat-free football field covered in a plastic tarp that retained every drop of rain to protect the field--but not you--during a day-long downpour. No thanks, man!  Even the array of braless or bare-breasted young women 'space-dancing' nearby lost its appeal for me, when their armpit hair was thicker than mine.  
Guess I got 'old,' right about then...

I never blamed the band; why would I?
I just got sick and tired of patchouli oil, which makes me wretch, to this day. 
Did I ever leave the music? 
Not really...although on the air, I'd sometimes resist catering to the stoners who incessantly requested one Dead song after another, sometimes calling 20 times in a row, as if they had no record player at home, and forgot all about their previous 19 calls.
Again, not my thing...sorry!

But the Grateful Dead's music was always cool.
And backstage, these guys were 'just a band'--as much as any group of folks who've got a big gig, but still just wanna have fun. 
There were feats of musical brilliance along the way.  

At some point, for example, Bob Weir became quite an adept lead player, to compensate for Jerry's indulgences or indifference...and then, they'd trade roles again, depending on where they each were in their lives. 
It went like that.  Each tour, another couple guys in this band 'stepped up' and took charge, musically--and their 'jam band' reputation gave everybody onstage permission to fail. 

That was key.
Overall, they succeeded more than they failed; I can attest to that.
 

Fast-forward to Sunday night, in my friend Craig's listening room.

Having watched Trey Anastasio with Hornsby and Lesh and Kreutzmann and Hart (and oh yeah, sometimes Bobby) I gotta say, this "Dead Last" concert was the perfect culmination to it all.
The big surprise was that none of it was 'concise,' but all of it made sense, musically. More than probably any Dead concert I've ever been to, these were purposefully elevated, sophisticated jams--not just aimless noodling in search of one brilliant moment.
It was at once a blessed moment in the band's history and a great summation, but also an adventurous high-wire act all its own (though a lot less shaky than they used to be), quite worthy of their legacy.
But most of all?  

My reaction was...“You coulda fooled me!” 
This was LIVE???
That, to me, is the mind-blower here. 
 

Despite the laughably horrid pre-show ticket mess-ups, all the obvious 'age jokes,' and the turbo-charged marketing (you could pre-order the box set of this weekend’s shows before they ever happened--a rather unprecedented bit of hubris)…
They actually pulled it off!
 

Again, Sunday night's show was as good as any I ever saw the original band do.  In some ways, better.
In fact it was so good, it actually made me sad that this band-- having finally found their 'legs' with Anastacio and Hornsby after Garcia’s death (it only took, what...21 years?) are not gonna continue performing, with this configuration.
Because they really should.
 

Bob Weir, Bill Kreutzmann, and Phil Lesh--pictured here 43 years ago, in Boulder Colorado during 1972--closed out their career as The Grateful Dead on Sunday night, along with drummer Mickey Hart (not pictured)--on July 5, 2015 in Chicago's Soldier Field.
Photograph Copyright 1972/2015 by Peter Rodman. All Rights Reserved.
Here's my Big Statement:
Their final show was in some ways, their best ever.
 

And the video! The flawless on-the-fly video direction was as spectacular as any riff played onstage. Whoever the director was, he or she deserves an Academy Award--because although it was happening in real time, what we saw was on par with the best rock concert movies ever made.
I can only guess they all knew it would be good, but had no idea it would be this good. 

Oh, I'm sure they hoped...and you know they prepared.
They most assuredly outlined and mapped things out, pretty well in advance--unlike the old daze.  They set certain musical boundaries, signals, and sound checks in advance…sure.  Even a few 'dry runs,' in California, and two shows earlier in the weekend.
All that.
But NOBODY could have pre-printed a recipe for the kind of perfect musical conversation and in-the-pocket sound mix we saw Sunday night.
Trey Anastasio's Gretsch was tweaked to perfectly replicate Jerry Garcia’s sound, but...he added a concise 'crackle' all his own. 
Bruce Hornsby was only 'showy' when it was called for, and both keyboards wove magic with the guitars, all night long.  Phil Lesh’s six (or was it 8?) string bass played a central role…and at one point during Mickey Hart's percussion showcase, my friend Craig turned up the sound system, to emphasize the moment for his guests:
“This is his LAST solo!”


I’ll admit, I came into this affair as much for the great chili and camaraderie, as anything else.

Normally, the thought of  watching anything on TV with a group of people is enough to send me out to make an appointment for elective orthodontia work. (“Sorry, can’t make it--I’m getting’ a whole new rack o’ chompers, tonight!”)

But I left this event feeling we’d all witnessed history-- not even so much for the occasion as for the pinnacle of a performance between some risk-taking players who, in the greatest Grateful Dead tradition, essentially pulled off a musical ‘Man on Wire’ stunt for all who saw the show, either in person or at home.
Bravo, Grateful Dead!

Now, if I may…my only other snarky line of the night:
It came as I studied Bob Weir’s 'grizzly bear' beard, and watched his workmanlike (but rather joyless) gait, in direct contrast to Trey Anastasio or Phil Lesh or Bruce Hornsby or Bill Kreutzmann or Mickey Hart, who seemed utterly blissful throughout.  Not that he wasn't good--without that amazing voice, this night would not have been the same.  But it was surprisingly, uhhh... minor, to the over all picture.
In fairness, Bob’s had a tough couple of years, health wise.
Okay, to the giggle...  

What cracked me up was his shirt.
It was just a sort of dirty, unadorned, plain green undershirt.
Whether or not he’d had it on all week, I don’t know.  But at some point it occurred to me, this guy had to get up this morning (or afternoon, as the case may be) and actually say, “I think I’ll wear this one, for our last-ever show.  Yeah.  Perfect.”
Peter Rodman and Bob Weir...May, 1979...Boulder, Colorado.
Photographs Copyright 1979/ 2015 by The Peter Rodman Radio Archive.

For some reason, that thought cracked me up. And despite myriad opportunities to change it (he left the stage for at least a half hour during Hart's drum solo) he never did.  "No, no...this shirt is perfect."
It kinda was.

The album (and the DVDs, which I can attest will also be perfect) are out November 10th, in at least six or seven separate configurations--and can be pre-ordered now, at the band’s website.    Highly recommended.

Too bad for you, though...
You cannot pre-order Craig’s home made chili.
But it, too, comes highly recommended. 



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This Opinion Column Copyright 2015 by Peter Rodman. 
All Rights Reserved.
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Here's the Bob Weir chat from 1979.
Please, NO "sharing" of this COPYRIGHTED sound recording.
It is not legal to edit, reuse, or broadcast, share or transmit in ANY way, without express written permission from me--which you ain't gettin'. Just enjoy it here, okay? Thanks! =)
BOB WEIR talks to PETER RODMAN--May 19, 1979.
WARNING: Copyrighted material!
This sound recording is Copyright 1979/2015bySNPR/ThePeterRodmanRadioArchive. All Rights Reserved.