Bob Weir was it for me. As a musician and so much more. While I don’t have an official tally, of the hundreds of thousands of hours of music I’ve listened to, he’s got to be way at the top of the list. Of the hundreds of thousands of miles I’ve traveled to see concerts, he’s definitely way at the top of the list. I’ve been on the bus for about ¾ of my fifty-four years on this planet with Bobby gleefully leading the way.
My love for Bob Weir went so far beyond the 60 years of music he left us. In the 80’s when I first locked into the Dead, everyone understandably focused on Jerry Garcia. Except me. I was a Bob guy from the start. As a person, he represented so much of what I believed in during my teens and twenties. He was a dyslexic high school dropout that said fuck it, I’m going to do things my way going forward. And did so every day the rest of his life. To unprescented success.
Weir was fortunate to avoid the spotlight that shined too brightly on Jerry Garcia. He wasn’t “the guy” just as I would have it. If everyone was doing something one way, Bob, just like me, would strive to find a way to do it differently. That’s why Bob was a rare and true rhythm guitar player. He didn’t need the leads or the acclaim. His impossible chord combinations and musical timing are unmatched. While the majority of the crowd was in tie-dyes, Bob wore Polo’s. As did I to many Dead shows as a tribute.
One of my biggest wishes came true on 3/17/98. A day I remember as easily as my anniversary and the birth of my children. That’s the day I met Bob Weir. I was the sports producer at WMC TV in Memphis when someone came into my office and uttered words that would change my life. “Aren’t you a fan of the Grateful Dead? One of their members is playing in town and they reached out to see if we wanted to do an interview.” Absolutely, I replied instantly. I’ve got it. Give me the contact information.
I remember like it was yesterday driving to the Orpheum to take in soundcheck and then interview Weir and Rob Wasserman. He was touring with Ratdog at the time. I’m sure I rehearsed it the million times I dreamed of meeting Weir, but my first words to him were “I’ve met the last two presidents and vice presidents and that is nothing compared to this.” Those words still ring 100% true today. That’s how much Bob Weir meant and will always mean to me.
Another night I will instantly remember is 1/26/23. A quarter of a century and hundreds of shows later. Joe Russo’s Almost Dead (my favorite band) was celebrating their tenth anniversary at the Brooklyn Bowl when Weir (my favorite musician) walked on stage to everyone’s surprise (including the band) to sit in on Jack Straw (my favorite song). I quickly realized a once in a lifetime moment had surfaced. Surrounded by loads of my best friends I cried some of the happiest tears ever shed.
I could go on and on. So can millions more. Bobby, you have been permanently affixed to my soul since I was a kid. From the deepest part of that soul. Thank you so much!