Those Were the Days

That is Jerry on the back right. He looked like that when I met him. Photo of Go Ahead taken 25 Jul 1986 backstage at the Lonestar Cafe, New York City. Bob Minkin also took some photos of a gig Jerry played last year at Marin Academy.

I called Jerry this morning and excitedly told him about my chance to finally hear him with Go Ahead. Anyway, I mentioned "this song" and "that solo" and told him it was fun to finally hear the band. He chuckled and said, "Those were the days...NOT"

Back then he was playing with Go Ahead and Jesse Colin Young. He would play Friday and Saturday on the east coast with Go Ahead, fly to Seattle on Monday morning and play two or three dates with Jesse and fly back to the east coast by Wednesday or Thursday. Go Ahead mostly played the east coast and Jesse mainly played festivals and ski resorts out west.

Although there are several places online which state that Go Ahead only toured for a couple of weeks they actually went out on tour several times over the course of three years. Jerry described why those were not the days. He had a moment standing in front of a packed house singing La Bamba that went something like this:

Ba la la La Bamba

"I can't believe I woke up at 3:00 a.m. and flew across the country"

Ba la la La Bamba

"Just to stand in front of these drunk, high people"

Una poca de gracias

"and sing this stupid song."

That was literally the day that Jerry said to himself, "When I get home I am going to stay home." He went back to teaching guitar and he has never looked back. He always talks to me about how the milestones his students achieve are much more important and memorable than even the most prestigious gig. For him gigs are a very temporary high. Watching his students grow and progress is a long term thrill. Now I must add that if more than two weeks go by without a gig or session Jerry gets a little fidgety. He has continued to play gigs, just closer to home. Occasionally someone will fly us to Nashville, Hawaii or England to do a recording session, but he always takes home with him, in the form of me.

Jerry can't be faulted for going down that rock and roll road. He thought he wanted to be in a rock band his whole life after seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. Then some well known rock stars asked him to be in their band and go on the road. The dream was fulfilled. Only it turned out to be a nightmare. Life on the road with Dead members involved limousines, roadies, four star hotel suites, and your every need catered to before you even knew there was a need. The red carpet was rolled out wherever they went. Yet it was a hollow existence. In 1990 about a week after I met Jerry his friend from Go Ahead, Brent Mydland, died of a drug overdose. He left a wife and two toddlers behind. Let's see, you're rich, you're famous, people worship at your feet, you get to express your talents to huge audiences. What is wrong with this picture?

They call it the curse of the Grateful Dead keyboard players. Every keyboard player in the Grateful Dead has died young including the last one, Vince Welnick, who died about a year ago, age 53. If you ever saw the movie Spinal Tap, in which the drummers keep exploding onstage, they are alluding to the Grateful Dead keyboard curse. I would say it is more likely the curse of the road. It is an altered reality, where you lose perspective of real life, family life, neighborhood life, and church life. You are not really accountable to anyone except the tour manager, who says, "Lobby call, 6:00 a.m." Whatever happens in Roslyn, New York stays in Roslyn. As long as you are in the lobby at 6 a.m. nobody in the band cares how high you are, who you slept with, whether your shirt is ironed or whether you had a good balanced breakfast. That is why daily family life is so important in the big picture. And that is why people can die from sheer neglect surrounded by "adoring" fans, and yet so alone. Those fans are just there for themselves. They don't care if you had a good balanced breakfast either, they just want to know what else you can give them. One more song. One more picture. One more autograph. And the moment you turn your back after signing, smiling, singing, playing for hours in addition to the twelve hour travel day which began at 3:00 a.m. the ones you could not meet and greet sneer and call you a selfish jerk. Why choose this life when you could be at home snug with your family; and your wife is the only one calling you a selfish jerk, but at least she is entitled.