In this social media-driven, instantaneous reaction world we live in, it’s more than healthy to take a step back (or three) every once in a while; especially when something hits close to home. That’s what the passing of Bob Weir has done to me.
“I have seen where the wolf has slept by the silver stream…”
Did I know him? As a musician, kind of, yes. As a close personal friend, no. I did “meet” Uncle Bobby once, a couple years ago when I was in Mill Valley, CA. We’re literally talking about just bumping into him. But he still was in the friend realm – an inspirational, penpal type of one.
“I can tell by the mark he left, you were in his dream…”
When it came to the Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia received a lot of the attention, from both fans and the media. He was the consummate portrayal of the 1960’s hippie musician from San Francisco. Everyone wanted to either be or meet Jerry. But I’ve always been an Uncle Bobby guy.
“Ah child of countless trees…”
My induction into the Deadhead community started in the early 1980’s. During that era, he was certainly riding that train, in more ways than one. And his stage presence fit right into my teenage, rock ‘n roll attitude. I quoted “Saint of Circumstance” in my high school yearbook bio.
“Ah child of boundless seas…”
His songs drove my love for the band forward. I dived deep into his solo catalog, where “Ace” still holds a special place in my heart. On the other hand, I even bought the exceedingly terrible Bobby & The Midnites album “Where The Beat Meets The Street.” Ugh. So bad.
“What you are, what you’re meant to be…”
Speaking of, we can’t all tap into that next level of creative vibe which bred songs such as “Cassidy” (the one I’m quoting here). In fact, that song has been and always will be my favorite song of his. Maybe my all-time favorite.
“Speaks his name, though you were born to me…”
This connection to my youth, and the allusions to movement, transcendence and death in the song, always tweaks my creative spirit. At this point of my life, I’m transcending to my next stage as an author and its not an easy one. It’s like being reborn, in a spiritual but not religious way.
“Born to me, Cassidy.”
My journey of gathering scattered, lost words started before I turned ten years old. This is what I was born to be. So, the inspiration of not only Uncle Bobby’s music, but his life, is more inspirational than ever. His music career lasted over 60 years. Sixty years. Wow. What an amazing artistic accomplishment.
Mine hasn’t reached that fine of a vintage yet. But I’ll do my best to wash the night-time clean, grow the scorched ground green, blow the horn and tap the tambourine while closing the gap of the dark years in between. With him as an influence and a muse.
Your words are done, Uncle Bobby, and I’ll continue with mine. Thank you!
“Faring thee well now… Let your life proceed by its own designs.”
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