I missed my chance to be a deadhead, but I won't miss out on being a FredHead.
About ten days after I went to my first Grateful Dead show, waaay back in the '90s, a girlfriend acquaintance of mine called to see if I might go 'on tour' with her. She had decided to take the summer off and follow the band, catching as many shows as she could.
I was so very tempted, not only because I'd just had what I considered to be a life-altering experience at that show but also because she was a very, very cool girl and as the only girl in my family, I was hungry for female friendship. For a few minutes, I had a glimpse into a possible life I didn't quite know how to imagine.
After some thought, I turned her down, citing my well-paid summer job at a factory and my desire to be able to pay my tuition at college. My final year would start that fall, and hopefully, my real life would start immediately afterwards.
I've always wondered how my life would be different if I'd said yes. Would I have become a hippie freak, homeless, addicted to drugs, a peace activist, musician, or would I be so disgusted by the hippie freaks addicted to drugs and talking about peace that I would become a reactionary conservative drone? I'll never know, and I've always been a bit regretful about it.
So, when I went on and on about how much I'm a new-born fan of Fred Eaglesmith and a friend said, "We need to go see him again!" I didn't hesitate. So, next weekend, I'm going to a town I've never been to, to see a band I've seen only once, and hang out with people who follow this guy all over the place to hear his music. It's a bit late, but I'm finally getting ahead. Not a deadhead, a Fredhead.
By the way, if you want to see Fred Eaglesmith from the comfort of your couch instead of at the arena in Harriston, like me, tune in to David Letterman tonight.
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