Turn On Your Love Light

The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion)

Help On The Way

Blues For Allah

I Hate Myself And I Want To Die

Heart-Shaped Box

Grandma, take me home

When the heart is open

I Will Take You Home




Take care of all of your memories, says Mick
for you cannot relive them
And remember when you're out there trying to heal the sick
that you must always first forgive them

- "Open The Door, Homer," 1967, Bob Dylan


If you were born on the day Richard Nixon resigned from the office of the President of the United States of America, you could legally drink your first whiskey and rye the day Jerry Garcia died.

Because I was born in 1964 I straddle two generations. That year is pegged as the last year of the baby boom as well as the first year of Generation X. In the past two years, both generations have each lost their spiritual leaders prematurely. Both of them pop culture entertainers with an appetite for heroin that just wouldn't quit, and, depending on how much you want to read into the strategy of the Grim Reaper, both of them taking their own lives either from bodily neglect or existential frustration, and the passing of each man left in its wake a national outpouring of emotion.

I remember the complete incomprehension by the majority of babyboomers over the emotional implosion following the death of Kurt Cobain in April 94. Those same 30 and 40 somethings devastated by the death of John Lennon fourteen years earlier could not understand the significance of the death of a 27-year-old guitarist from Aberdeen, Washington. After the death of Jerry Garcia I checked up on the Grateful Dead newsgroup (rec.music.gdead) on a daily basis for over four weeks, where postings at one point numbered over 3,000. Cybermourning. Welcome to the 90s. This is one of the postings I found the day after Jerry Garcia's death.

"Never again will I bad-mouth someone's hero, idol, icon, etc. I had said some pretty negative things about Kurt Cobain killing himself, not really thinking how those comments may have hurt someone who looked up to him. Now I know the pain. I thought I was immune to this kind of thing, after Lennon died. Hardly. Jerry's death hit me as hard as Lennon's. Thank you, Jerry, not only for the wonderful music and memories, but for teaching this over-30 cynic to respect all life a little more. I promise to look at all life has to offer in a new light from now on. Such a shame it often takes a tragedy to awake awareness in folks sometimes. Friends, it still hurts."


Death Is Not The End, Part 2:

Turn On Your Love Light