The passing of Bob Weir inspired me to revisit the Grateful Dead and dip my toe into Dead & Company. My first experience with the Grateful Dead’s music coincided with another first, living in a dorm. Upon arriving at Middlebury College in Vermont, I was looking forward to meeting my roommate and getting settled into our room. Holly and I had talked briefly before the start of school, enough of a conversation to plan for matching comforters. In the weeks before I was set to embark on the People Express direct flight from LAX to Burlington International Airport, I gathered clothing and keepsakes. Everything I would need to start this new chapter. My blue trunk would meet me at my dorm room.
Cuter version of my college trunk. I wish my dorm room had looked this nice.
A couple other kids from Pasadena and I arrived tired from the red-eye. The college provided a van to transport us from Burlington to Middlebury, about a 45 minute drive along Scenic Route 7. My fatigue faded minutes later. It was so green. Everywhere. Coming from Southern California in late summer where the hillsides were various shades of brown and a yellowish tan, I was in awe of the gentle hills of green. The only other time I had been in Vermont was the previous autumn during a whirlwind tour of possible schools. Middlebury was chosen after a disappointing visit to my first choice. We got to campus on a crisp, sunny day with students smiling and throwing frisbees on the wide lawns in between stately buildings. Almost immediately, I felt like this was the place.
My dorm was a cinderblock, multi-wing structure with a few embellishments at the entrance in an attempt to blend in with the older and more authentically charming buildings. It was the largest dorm for first year students. After a quick visit to my room and a hello to Holly and her parents before they departed for lunch, I began to explore. The next wing over one of my friends from Pasadena was busy meeting his new neighbors. Peaking in the open doors as I made my way down the hall, I marveled at several of the boys’ rooms. Despite not having arrived much earlier than our van, their rooms were completely set up. Done. Wall hangings, couches, stereo systems, mini-fridges-instant man-cave.
These boys came from boarding schools. They knew the ins and the outs of dorm life. Unlike me, they didn’t bring keepsakes and photos from their high school. They hung tapestries and listened to the Grateful Dead. I felt like I was encountering a new species and I wanted to be them. I was envious. The boys I knew from the local high schools listened to punk rock or whatever was on KROQ. Part of the ‘boarding school chic’ look included posters and playbills with the iconic images of roses, skulls, and skeletons. I was slow to put together the music of the Grateful Dead with their brand collateral like the “Steal Your Face” skull.
Although I can’t claim to have become a full “ Deadhead”, I did go to a few shows, tried LSD, and enjoyed the bootleg recordings. The meandering nature of their songs, the way they would transition without stopping from one song to the next was an invitation to go on a journey. Their jazz-like spontaneity infused each performance, providing fodder for lengthy debates about which shows were the best. I never got the sense the band was concerned about playing their ‘popular’ songs. I am not sure if I will ever go to a Dead & Co. show. For now it is enough to listen to their shows on iTunes and enjoy the same winding style of play. If I do end up going to see the Dead & Company, does it count as a first?
