It was thirty years ago today. I went to my first Dead concert at almost brand new Giants stadium. It was a very long strange trip for sure. It went on for a long time with my brothers. Traveling to allot of different places. Meeting so many people. The art was always so fresh and it covered the parking lots, shirts, faces and stage. Camping, tripping, getting busted, fights, getting lost, getting high….I always liked the small theaters, Stanley in Pittsburg, the Capital in Jersey and I was blesssed to see them at Radio City Music Hall in NYC. After they became a money making machine, Brent the keyboard player overdosed, they played in big stadiums to crowds that half-cared about the vibes and music. Americas greatest secret vacation had become a “cool trend” Will the rain stop in Florida? Everytime I talk to Grant the amount increases ten fold. In our last phone conversation it was 75 inches of rain that has fallen on Florida. Florida Hartmans-get in your boat and float up here and have some tomato sandwiches with me. I picked fifty on my birthday. And we only have 5 plants.
Dad if you ONLY KNEW. The will of God took you away and I wonder what y’all are doing up there. Brenda, Beverly and Carol probably laughing their asses off, telling stories. Dad you were a fucking idiot. The more I read your endless pages of bullshit in your journals. Never once did you mention any of your children by name. Your life was money. Numbers, the Sewing Center and saving your soul. Nobody remembers you. You never gave us the chance because business came first. Some of us remember getting the shit kicked out of us, I gotta give you that much. Mysterious dark figure. In the Summer I remember the smell of gasoline, fresh-cut grass and you….aqua-velva and cigars.
THE END of Summer. Always so quick. In this red tomato sky, my boys are huge. Taller than me and sometimes smarter than me. Walking on the boardwalk, trying to find that “last hurray” the final salute to a season lost. Another lost sibling. If I am just a ballon head in the photos—you are all gathered around her funeral….holding hands in a dream. Heads bowed down in prayer. But the surviving eight peeking up. Looking around at each other. Wondering who will be next. How many balloons will we need. I can still put my feet in the sand. The kids are going to school. Football season. Catch maybe one more huge wave from the churning sea. The seemingly endless pounding waves (bigger because of the hurricanes down yonder.) I miss my boys being little. I miss Brenda and the red tomato skys of Summer.
I am thankful for all that I receive, because I know that as I receive I am able to give. And the more I give the more I receive. And I give thanks.
