Remembering Dead Heads

Return to the daze of my youth.

I always enjoyed listening to the Grateful Dead, and even managed to catch a couple of their concerts back in the days when you could do so for 7 bucks, but there was this one of several hard core dead heads I knew who hitchhiked the entire country going from show to show. On one occasion while traveling eastbound on Interstate 10, in New Mexico I happened to see him on the side of the road holding his thumb in the air. It was against company policy but his sisters were really hot so I pulled to the side. As he climbed up in the truck he said, “Dude, I know you.” It was obvious he was stoned. “You were in school with my sisters.”

As I brought the rig back up to speed I asked, “Peter,” what in the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the desert?”

“I’m going to see the Dead play in Phoenix on the 16th,” Peter answered.

“Peter,” I said, “You’re going the wrong way, and today’s the 17th.”