I am emotionally crushed by the news of Bob Weir’s death passed to me in an email by my good sister Deb. Bobby and The Grateful Dead have given me auditory joy since my childhood pal Liz’s sister packed us in a van to go to see The Dead, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and The Marshall Tucker Band at Raceway Park in Englishtown, NJ in 1977. I was a long-haired, 13-year-old kid with big tinted glasses who had no idea or fears of what he was about to encounter. It was a communal experience of more than 100,000 Deadheads driven by sharing music marked by rhythm, new knowledge, and respect for one another. This experience became a mantra to live by.
There is not enough room here to tell you about the clients, along with their family members, that I met at Grateful Dead concerts. However, I will tell you that my choice to enter my financial career some 25-years ago under the tutelage of Howard Elias at Wealth Advisory Group was very much influenced by our mutual adoration of The Grateful Dead. Fortunately, I chose "The Golden Road” and use a “Left-Handed Monkey Wrench.” And my friend and client Brett “fell in love with a Mexican girl.”
What makes me love this job? It is my clients, particularly those over the age of 70. I call them “My Elders.” Why? Because they are exemplary per celebrating life with acts of selflessness, sharing, empathy and community, and the ideas written about and expressed by The Grateful Dead.
My fears are exacerbated by the passing of Sir Robert Weir (coined by Wynonna Judd). I dread losing a generation of clients-friends whose thoughts shine with honesty, integrity, and intelligence full of originality. And again, let’s always remember The Dead’s spirit of community. Are you aware that at its peak The Grateful Dead employed more than 80 staffers? Are you aware that Jerry Garcia said no political stances on stage, yet they helped register many to vote?
Though I feel sad, I will continue Sir Robert Weir’s spirit of sharing. For those of you who are unacquainted with The Grateful Dead, whether they meet the definition or not, for me they are “American Songbook.” I so wish that I could debate this topic with my lost friend, client and scholar Ray, but “He’s Gone.”
RIP Bobby!
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Franklin’s Tower - Lyrics by Robert Hunter
One watch by night, one watch by day
If you get confused, listen to the music play
Some come to laugh their past away
Some come to make it just one more day
Whichever way your pleasure tends
If you plant ice, you're gonna harvest wind
In Franklin's tower the four winds sleep (note e)
Like four lean hounds the lighthouse keep
Wildflower seed in the sand and wind
May the four winds blow you home again |
