I can’t recall why I
was late, but ‘Jack Straw” was smoking as I entered Madison Square Garden on 10-11-83.
I was oblivious to the fact that the Dead opened the show with “Wang Dang
Doodle.” With my accountant by my side, I found my seat and swayed to a hot “Loser.”
It’s hard to get excited about an Uncle > Mexicali combo, but this was an
insane “Mexicali.” I thought we were halfway through the opening set as Jerry
noodled through a tantalizing “Birdsong.” “The set abruptly ended with
“Hell in a Bucket” and “Day Job,” two new tunes that pissed me off. In fact,
when the lights came on, I yelled, “You guys suck.” Perhaps this was a sign
that I was taking things too personally. I’ve come to love this first set. The
Wang Dang Doodle > Straw opener is killer.
I'd heard the “St.
Stephen” rumors, and the instrumental teases over the past few tours, and when
the moment arrived, I was unprepared. 10-11-83 didn’t have the makings of an extraordinary
night, but the Boys electrified the Garden by playing “St. Stephen” for the
first time in four years. The excitement of the moment was hard to control or
express. My accountant and I were hugging, tackling, and slapping each other—a
Three Stooges moment. I’ve gained a greater appreciation for the second set
listening to this show over the years. The St. Stephen > Throwing Stones
transition is magnificent, and thematically, “Touch of Grey” is a wonderful follow-up.
Returning home, my accountant’s old warhorse Delta 88 started smoking. On the
Palisades Parkway median, it died. The engine was shot—dead from natural
causes—a sacrifice to the Grateful Gods. There was no parkway like the
Palisades. She was a kind road loaded with personality, and now and then, she
liked to twist your fate. 
On the way to MSG the following
night, I witnessed my lawyer at the height of his driving prowess. Stalled in
horrendous traffic, he stepped on the gas and swung his yellow Coup de Ville from
lane to lane with reckless abandoned. He created lanes where they didn’t exist.
My lawyer had a front row seat at MSG, and no George Washington Bridge gridlock was going
to make him late for Jerry. The ghost of Neal Cassady was with us. By the slimmest
of margins, he narrowly avoided thirty fender benders and got us to the Garden
before the band opened with “Cold Rain & Snow.
Help on the Way ->
Slipknot! -> Franklin’s Tower ignited the second set on 10-12-83, and it was
perhaps the best thirty minutes of live music I’d ever witnessed. I positioned
myself behind the stage and grasped the magnificence of what it’s like to
perform in Madison Square Garden. I surveyed the floor of Deadheads dancing and
swaying as one. The electricity that can be generated in the Garden is
undeniable. The atmosphere absolutely fuels greatness.
Garcia’s creativity
was ceaseless during “Slipknot!”—Coltrane-like riffs took flight, and there was
a gritty workingman’s quality about it all. Jerry extended time,
constantly in motion, yet relaxed in the moment. The Scarlet Begonias ->
Fire on the Mountain I witnessed two nights later in Hartford was equally
brilliant. Garcia may have appeared detached from those around him, but he was
aligned with spirit, speaking through his Tiger. To top off this memorable two-night
stand in the Garden, the Dead played “Revolution” for the first time in the encore slot.The individuals identified as my accountant and my lawyer weren't that at the time, but they are now.
Howard F. Weiner's latest book: Dylan and the Grateful Dead: A Tale of Twisted Fate
More Dead road tales: Tangled Up in Tunes: A Ballad of a Dylanhead, Fifth Anniversary Edition
1 comment:
I rember tales of that harrowing trip to make the start of the show
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