The kindness of strangers

Today, something that would make me happy meant buying a new pair of Birks. You can get the Birki-buc ones at happyfeet.com for $55, including shipping. I think that's not bad, so I went for the Milanos in mocha. Although I am not and never was a Deadhead, I was intrigued by the Jerry Garcia Birkenstocks. I mean, wow. That's just the most perfect licensing agreement ever. Big wet kisses to the marketer who came up with that idea.

There was only ever once that I felt like I'd missed out having never seen the Dead. Ellen took me to see New Potato Caboose, a Grateful Dead cover band that she used to go see when she was an undergrad in Baltimore. At that point, my life was less than satisfactory, though I've blocked out the specific whys and wherefores, but I knew the Bayou was about to close, and Ellen wanted to go, so I said I'd go with.

We got there, paid the cover and staked out some space on the floor. Every so often she'd run into somebody she knew from way back when. The opening band was Baaba Seth, from Charlottesville. I misheard their name and thought they were called Boba Fett, after the Star Wars character. Man, they were good. Everything about this band flowed together, and if you ever get a chance to see them, do so.

I had kind of started talking to this dude, and he really ought to be called a dude. He was pretty far gone, although the headliner hadn't even started. He wasn't trying to pick me up, we were just talking. I couldn't tell you what we were talking about, really, I just remember the guy. He drifted away and then a few minutes later I saw him up on stage. It turns out he's a DJ for the actual alternative station in the DC area, and he was introducing the band.

I enjoyed the show--the songs I'd never danced to, the youth I'd never wasted. During the second set, they did three songs by other people, namely not the Dead. These were all songs I knew from when I was younger. They fit together perfectly. Ellen will probably remember what the songs were, but I think one of them was "The Weight" and another was "Me and Julio" and at that point, the music picked me up and took me with it wherever it was going.

It was about that time when the DJ found me again. It turned out that he felt just as bad as I did, his divorce was just final. It wasn't in character for me to be there for somebody I'd never see again, but something about that night made it possible just the once.

I think the something was the music, and I think that feeling, being a part of something greater, is what I missed.

My memory of that night is not all that clear, but it is vivid, and I will never forget that feeling.

before - after