Going home, going home
by the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
to rock my soul
While the blogosphere takes a little time out of its day to mark the 10 year anniversary of the now infamous Netscape IPO (a whole raft of “where-are-they-now?” stories out of that busted bubble), I’d like to celebrate the memory of Jerry Garcia, who died on the same day. Contrary to popular belief, his last words were not “Netscape opened at what?”
While everybody seems to have their “where were you when you heard about JFK?” moment, I have a “where were you when Jerry died” moment. I was newly 21, in love, still idealistic enough to think that teaching English would be a noble profession and still young enough to sincerly believe there was enough time to become a rock star.
As was my custom @ the time, on the way to play a piano in one of the chapels on campus, I stopped by the student union to pick up a Dr. Pepper, because the pop was cheaper there (I guess ’cause they were trying to stick it to the man. Or something) As I approached the machine, I saw a stack of the campus rag and there it was: Jerry Garcia: 1942-1995.
All you unrepentant deadheads out there, remember to take a minute and reflect. Not on what we lost, but the legacy that remains.