One of the cool things about being a deadhead is it is easy to figure out where you were back when. And forty four years ago tonight, I was having the time of my life at a place called Winterland, in San Francisco. After all this time has passed, the memories are still as fresh as yesterday, or a sparkling morning dew.
It was located in an old skating ring at Post and Steiner and it was our gang's clubhouse back then. Right behind the soundboard, liquid flowing, gills activated.
Right about now I would probably be found inside tossing a frisbee, maybe with Peter Jester, watching Bill Graham and his pals play volleyball before the curtain opened. Everybody psyched and ready to rock. An audible hum of nervous anticipation in the air. People ready to soar.
What I remember most about the week, was exquisite playing and fun, fun, fun!
Hard to explain a lifetime later, but everybody in that hall was my friend, the music was exceptional and we had ourselves the time of our lives.
Had a thought it might last forever but knew better even then. Nothing else has ever come close.
Never regretted a moment.
Thank you, for a real good time.