The first time he was dressed in white, sitting at a big white table in a big white room. He glowed. I was being chased (big surprise) and ended up in this room with Jerry. I sat down at the table and he passed me a bowl. I took a hit. He didn't say a word, just looked at me with love in his eyes.
The second time it wasn't really Jerry, it was Terrapin the turtle. I was at a convention for work, trying to act the part and waiting in line at the buffet (the best part about conventions). There were two chefs behind the buffet and their hands were dripping in some sort of dark sauce (BBQ?). This did not appeal to my appetite one single bit so I started to move on. But something told me to glance back and as I did I noticed they were serving waffles. I returned to the buffet and they began to serve up my waffles (hands still dripping) and I fought back the nausea because waffles are awesome. Just then I turned to my right and saw the most bizarre thing. There was a turtle laying flat on the grill! I was horrified and looked back at the chefs in dismay but they just kept on dishing (and dripping). I turned again to see that the turtle had stood up on his hind legs and he was dancing like his toes were on fire (do turtles have toes?).
The strange part is, I never saw the Grateful Dead, never saw Jerry, never even knew that there was a dancing turtle named Tarrapin (until about a week ago). I didn't discover their music or Jerry's amazing spirit until the last decade. I was completely left out of that amazing sub-culture (as usual). But somehow, Jerry has come calling for me!
I told this story to a friend of mine and a couple weeks later she brought me a book. It is called "Harrington Street, An Anecdotal Personal History" in words and pictures by Jerry Garcia.
This book is the most amazing sort of crazy I have ever seen and it might just bring me back to life.
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