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Growing Up A Deadhead: Second Generation

Truckin' up to Buffalo.

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Growing Up A Deadhead: Second Generation
The Midnight Cafe

I was born into a family whose road trips were five-hour long jam sessions. From the front seats, my parents would sing along to the songs that were in their background as they fell in love. From the two back rows, my siblings and I would be humming the familiar tunes right along with them, while playing on our GameBoys or coloring in princesses with crayons.

Our Saturday morning house cleans were completed with Jerry serenading us with his words of encouragement through the living room surround system. In the summertime, our burgers were cooked by our dancing father on the back deck next to his radio tuned to Grateful Dead classics.

Dad’s after dinner stories often brought him back to a Dead concert as a teenager with a smile on his face, telling us some crazy thing he and his buddies ended up doing.

Having my dad care about the Grateful Dead so much taught me a lot about life. Passion is a rare and magnificent thing to have. Passion turns into appreciation and glorification. Passion also makes a person spread the love for whatever they are passionate about. Appreciation for details are also really important. Life is all in the details, whether it’s the raspiness of one person’s voice or the way the fans react in a crowd. Every single person is living in the moment and that makes a scene beautiful.

My dad instilled his passion for the Grateful Dead into me throughout my childhood and I could not be more grateful. Though the Grateful Dead isn’t the only music I listen to while I drive or while I go about my Sundays at home like my dad, they are a band that I also care about because I know my dad cares so much. I’ve read lyric books, interviews and novels about the Dead, and ultimately I have learned how to appreciate them and their music.

My dad being a Deadhead taught me how to care about something with the whole being. I watched my dad light up as he relived his concert-going days through his stories. I watched him transform into a guitar player as he steered his truck down the back roads of our little town. I grew up inspired by my dad’s passion, and I wouldn’t be the same without that.

Jerry says it best: “A box of rain will ease the pain, and love will see you through.” Love is at the core of a good life, and if you have love, everything will turn out alright.

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