Stories of Our Own…My Last Grateful Dead Show (6/27/15)

Good thing you can't see my face...

The day started off terribly, I wasn’t prepared for the ill feelings and mixed emotions of leaving the family at home while I took The BART to Levi Stadium. That was the plan, that had been the plan all along because we could not afford scalper priced tickets, as well I had only one press pass for Saturday night and one ticket in the 200 section for Sunday (a Deadhead friend sold me his extra mail-order for face value) night. It came down a family vote six weeks ago; do we all venture to Santa Clara, I go to the shows while the family hangs in the parking lot OR do we invest in buying tickets for Phish at Shoreline in the end of July? Phish is our family band, The Grateful Dead was what dad (me) listens to and tells old stories about, but it’s not their bag. However, when I got up, got showered and dressed and it was time to get me to the BART station (about an hour drive from the farmhouse), my wife and kids were a bit envious and some friction between us sparked. I ended up going alone, but left with a sour taste in my mouth and bad feeling on my brow. About an hour into my commute, when my wife got back home, we talked for over an hour. Kissing and making up, I reminded her that I bought all five shows from Nugstv, they could stream the shows at home. I was at The Great America Theme Park, right next to The Levi Stadium complex, when my phone started to beep; I had 13% battery remaining and no back up battery!

One Last Shakedown Street...

It was about half past three when I got to the parking lot, I went walking and wandering alone, mildly looking at everyone’s lovely wares and hoping to run into a few old friends. Keeping an eye out for someplace to charge my android, I came across an empty space so I sat down to think and dream in the mild sunshine for a short spell. Sitting there, reading the email regarding how to pick up my press pass, I looked into my backpack for my wallet; it was not there! Shit, I tore apart my backpack, pulling everything out in an effort to find my thin leather ID wallet. I had cash, I keep my cash in three discreet places (my pocket for spending, my secret hiding place in my backpack for back-up and in the secret fold of my Peace cap, for emergency).

Still groovy in The Parking Lot!

No wallet, nothing except one copy of my book to show for ID and now my phone had 5% battery left! I gathered my shit quickly and went bolting for the customer service window, but there was a long line when I got there. I walked to the far side of the stadium, near the area where the trucks were parked and I could see several RV’s I recognized; they were GDP, so I went up to a security dude, my book in hand and told him I was covering the show, I had a press pass but no ID. I was certain he would rebuff me, send me on my way, but much to my surprise, he made a radio call to his supervisor. Twenty minutes later, a familiar face came walking to the traffic horse I was leaning upon, it was my friend from GDP and he escorted me into the stadium!

Shakedown Street...

The Core Four
27 June 2015

Once inside this massive complex, it didn’t seem like a stadium inside, it was like a large corporate labyrinth of hallways, private rooms and many places I was not allowed to trample through. It was a little past 4 in the afternoon, at least three hours before show time and an hour and half before the “press reception” was opened. I was looking for a discrete place to have myself a 420 bowl but none was to be found. At one point, while I was walking through a large garage like space, a golf cart whizzed behind me and a several people pointed at me and yelled “Phil!”; I thought they were talking to me until I realized it was Phil Lesh who zipped behind me on the golf cart! I saw his head from behind, big deal! I continued walking around, keeping an eye open for a chill space and place to charge my phone, but still having no luck. The long and short of it, by the time I found the room where the press reception was being held, everyone was filing out of the conference room. I poked my head inside, grabbed a couple bottles of water and a large strawberry and spied an outlet at last. I no sooner had pulled the charging cord from my bag when one of those bouncer sized dudes from Elite Security walked into the empty room and made me scat! I left and continued just walking around where I was allowed to walk until show time. I was standing at the end of a corridor that went to the backstage area when Bill Kruetzman walked past me and I said, “Hey Billy!” and “Have a good show!” Kruetzman touched the brim of his ball cap as he passed and (I swear) looked me in the eye! Big deal. By the time the music started, I was squished at the back end of this long hallway, I could only see the beams of the lighting structure when the music started and despite my lame efforts to push closer, it’s not me to shove past others rudely.

Levi Stadium...mega size!

The fact the event was in a mega sized corporate stadium didn’t really bother me as much as I thought it would, but then again, I came in through the back door on the kind graces of a friend within The Grateful Dead organization. In my imagination I had a stage size view of the show, looking over Hornsby and watching Trey and Bobby, the huge mega stadium of darkness and colorful shadows blended into background like a trippy, moving human wave; the reality for me, was far different. I was restricted during the show to stay inside a narrow corridor that went into the backstage area. These huge, asshole-ish bouncer sized dudes from Elite security were complete jerks, standing shoulder to shoulder, three across, their arms crossed across their chests and their backs to the stage, they prevented us from going into the arena! They kept shouting rudely during the show, which made it harder to hear the music and thought there was a television monitor casting the video feed at the other end of the hallway, who wanted to stand there and watch (you couldn’t hear it either).

A view from backstage...

When I heard the band rolling into “The Crème Puff Wars” I had a clever idea to slip out of the backstage area via one of those “Authorized Access Only” doors. As I hoped, there were several kids hanging outside the door so I offered to swap my press pass lanyard with some chick from Michigan for her seat on the lawn. I finished the first set in the very back of the lawn but during the extended set break I made my way up to the very top of the stadium, at the very furthest point away from the stage so I could simply take it all in, one last time. I was finally able to relax, I pulled my little glass pipe from the secret pocket in my backpack, packed it tightly with my fresh greens and then, during the set break, I shared a couple of bowls with another old geezer named Red and we talked about our stories from the road. Before second set Red asked me to watch his stuff while he went to use the head and get a couple for beers, but he never came back!

First set, 27 June 2015

They seem very small but...
THEY ARE LARGER THAN LIFE!

I kept an eye on his bag, naturally, but by the time the second set was starting, I found myself sitting practically alone; I had my own little private dance space, an excellent view of the entire stage and a cool, Pacific breeze blowing on me throughout the rest of the show! I can’t put into words how very happy and satisfied I was when the show concluded. I was full, like eating a massive feast of sound and good vibes, the belly of my soul was stuffed! The shows were simply fantastic! I cannot put into words all the feelings and thoughts that went rushing through my mind, every note and lick of lyric seemed to touch something inside somehow, it was one of the most amazing experiences I’ve had in a very long time. It was a perfect day, Saturday the 27th of June in Santa Clara was a balmy 72 degrees, cool breezy salty air waffling through my long, grayed beard and hair. I was there to see, one last time, the remaining four original members of The Grateful Dead (and most esteemed, very talented guests) perform those songs of our own, a final time, One Last Saturday Night. I’m not going to waste time going down the set-list or voicing opinions about anything regarding the band’s performance; simply put, it was flawless and worth the wait.

The "Eyes of The World" screens were so trippy!

 This was it for me, I could be no closer I thought, exactly what I wanted, just One Last Saturday Night.

She expresses it for ALL!

After the show, I waited until the stadium was more than half empty. I simply sat alone, smoking another bowl by myself, feeling the cool evening air rushing under my thin, torn tie-dye. I took off my Peace Cap, my sweaty head and matted long hair feeling the coolness at last. I watched the remaining people around depart and when the clean up crew and security dudes were getting close to me, before they said anything, I took off and went to Shakedown Street, one last time. Again I kept my eyes and ears open, looking for old friends ad smiling at new ones, I was in a state of pure bliss. I didn’t have any LSD, but you wouldn’t know that if you were inside my head, thinking and feeling the things I was feeling. Flashbacks are real, as real as you make them and I went full tilt boogie in my mind that last Saturday night, like an Acid Test Graduate…I was tripping on Life! Eventually the parking lot was shutting down and I was turned around, I started walking to the train station in the wrong direction. Realizing my error (without my phone GPS, I’m lost I guess), I went back across the parking lot towards the amusement park and train station. Along the way I bought a bottle of water and decided to take myself a rest and think about if I wanted to keep this ticket in the 200 section for Sunday evening’s performance. It was tempting, I mean I reasoned with myself, I think I deserve it, I’ve been a loyal and most Dead-icated fan for 40+ years, I should be there, right? Then, the hippie inside me argued, I was on a miracle mission and this was the last time, I know, I would have the chance to make a random act of kindness like this; give the ticket to somebody who deserved it MORE than you, d’Philip!

As I was sitting on a grassy knoll, watching the world go past, a young couple sat next to me. The girl asked if I had a lighter, I did and loaned it to her so she could light her cigarette. As she handed it back to me, her voice thin and with a slight quiver, she asked, “You don’t happen to have an extra ticket for tomorrow night, do you?” she laughed nervously, as if she was asking the impossible, she nodded, “We have a $150 bucks, but only one ticket for the show tomorrow night.”
“Bummer…” I smiled, keeping my secret I asked, “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”
“We just got here, from Kansas…” the girl shook her head, “Neither of us have ever seen the band, but it’s what brought us together.”
“Wow, that’s cool…” I pulled my small glass bowl from my secret backpack pocket and started to pack it with some medical grade sativa cannabis while asking, “So if you’ve never seen them, how did they bring you together?”
“We’re the only Deadheads in the county!” the dude chimed in with a laugh then reached over to shake my hand, “I’m Bob, this is Cyn…we’re from Phillipsburg in Northern Kansas…we met at a Phish show in Colorado…”
“September 1st, 2013!” Cyn beamed, remembering the moment “During Boogie On Reagea Woman…we danced together as strangers…”
“And we left as lovers!” Bob grinned and put his thin arm around his girl. They had to be in the early 20s and yet they looked a lot like my friends and I did when we were their age, some 30+ years ago. Bob continued telling their story, about how they clicked and she went back to Kansas with him and now they live together and go on tours when they can. Bob explained, “My dad owns a feed and grain store, I’m part of his business so I have to stay…”
“Where he goes, I go!” Cyn beamed a sunshine smile that beamed on that dim grassy knoll and she stabbed her cigarette to death between us; she shook her long hair slowly, “But we could only afford one ticket from StubHub…”
“For how much?” I interrupted as I offered the greens on my bowl, “Would you like the honor?”
“Yes, please…” Cyn took the bowl and lighter and before she lit it, she signed, “We paid $500, but it’s a good seat in the second level up…”
“Actually, it’s at the top of the last section…” Bob admitted, then added, “But at least it’s inside the show, right?”
“Right on…” I agreed. Bob was a talker and continued to explain, almost like he was making an excuse, why the $500 was a good investment. I didn’t argue, I didn’t say anything but rather, felt sorry for them having been ripped off and being motivated by fear to pay such outrageous prices. It didn’t matter, they didn’t know better, this is the ticket marketing and concert experience of the 21st Century; those scummy scalpers of back in the day have gone corporate, gotten government sanctions and justify their greed by stating the concert experience is a commodity, not a public offering to share art, music, love and community. Bob continued telling tales of having seen all of the “Core Four” except Billy at some festival or another, they have seen Trey or Phish 10 times together, even in Chicago and San Francisco, but this was different for them. The Grateful Dead were saying good-bye and they had this need to be there, even if they weren’t there when Jerry was alive. I listened as we passed the smoldering bowl between us and when it was cashed, I asked, “So you need a ticket for tomorrow night, just the one?”
“Yeah, well we can’t go to Chicago…” Cyn started, “Bob has to run the store, it’s a holiday weekend you know…”
“Yeah, well…” Bob nodded, “Chicago would be nice, but this is better I think.”
“This is better than Chicago?” I was surprised, I thought I was the only one who was thinking that thought, “Why?”
“This is home for The Grateful Dead, it’s where it started, right?” Bob nodded, “There’s a lot more Love in San Francisco than in Chicago.”
“Yeah, right…” Cyn agreed and puled another ciggie out, “These shows are the real farewell, Chicago is just a big marketing exploitation show!”
“Wow!” I was blown away by her conviction so I again handed over my lighter without her having to ask again, “That’s a strong statement, do you think Chicago is a sell out or something?”
“Not from the band…” Cyn started as she lights her ciggie, “But the promoters, the media, the ticket scandal…it’s all bullshit that makes the pool dirty!”
“I think they are doing Chicago for the world…” Bob injected, “But these shows are for themselves, that’s what matters to us…I mean, Chicago will be great, it’s the fucking Grateful Dead, even if it sucks, they’ll be great!”
“Right…” I nodded, “Even on their worst nights, they were the best show in town!”
“Have you, like actually seen them…?” Cyn asked, “I mean, with Jerry?”
“Hell yes…” I chuckled, “I saw my first show in 1974 and my last one in 1994…and about 200 and something shows in between!”
“Dude…” Bob was impressed, “You are like, old school Deadhead, right?”
“More like old school drop-out…” I laughed, “But yeah, I’ve been here a while.”
“Wow…” they both sort of looked like me as if I was a museum artifact, “That’s way cool!”
“So, have you ever seen Phish too?” Cyn asked and then answered, “I bet you have, right?”
“Not since last October at Chula Vista…” I smiled and continued, “I started hearing them in ’88, their music was on the end of the bootleg tapes I was trading that tour…I saw them in 1990 and perhaps about 20 something times since then…I love Phish, all of them, a lot…so yeah, I’ve been there too.”
“So you were there tonight?” Bob asked, “How was it?”
“Fucking amazing!” I couldn’t find the words, “I’ve waited for 20 years for some kind of closure and it was exactly what I needed…it was all I need in fact!”
“You going to tomorrow night?” Cyn smiled.
“No, actually…” I pulled my secret ticket from another pocket of my backpack, “You both are going…here, enjoy the show, man!”
“What?” Cyn literally burned her hand as she pulled the ciggie from her lips quickly, “How much?”
“Nothing, it’s yours…” I held the ticket up in front of them, both of them just looked at and then at me, a quizzical look on their face, “It’s legit, it’s yours for free…Have a great show!”
“No fucking way, dude!” Bob said loudly, loud enough for people passing by to stop and look at us, Bob shook his head, “Let me give you something for it, I wouldn’t feel right.”
“No, please…it’s yours.” I shook the ticket but they didn’t take it, “It’s a mail order ticket, that’s why it looks different…but it’s real…section 200…see?”
“Dude!” said some drunk guy from the passing crowd, “I’ll take that!”
“Sorry…” I pulled the ticket close and looked at Cyn and Bob, “It belongs to these young lovers, man, sorry…maybe in Chicago?” I was lying, I’m not going to be within 2,000 miles of Chicago next weekend, I added in a quieter voice to Bob and Cyn, “I’d charge him $500 bucks but0- he’s stupid enough to pay it…” I laughed, “But you’ve been ripped off enough, you deserve to go to the show, you know? Just one thing, remember that you were there, this one last time because it’s all over now, baby blue.”
“Really?!?” Cyn was floored, “Really?!?”
“Absolutely.” I smiled big, “Here, please take it, okay?”
“Man, I’ve heard about miracles but…” Bob took the ticket and gently held it so he and his girl could look closely. Their eyes wide and bright with Love and Hope, their smiles curled upon their lips like little hippie streamers floating in the air. They looked up at me and in stereo said, “Thank you!”
“Sure thing…” I smiled and gathered my things into my backpack, “I have to get moving on, I want to get home before the sun comes up…You guys have a great show, be cool, be safe and continue this legacy with you in your lives…Peace.”
“But, wait…” Cyn said as I stood up, “What was your name again?”
“I’m d’Philip…” I pulled the backpack upon my shoulders, my messy tuft of long curls catching under the nylon straps, “Have a good show you guys, stay in touch.” I started to step back and way from them, they sat on the grass in shock, “It’s an awesome experience!”
“Thank you again!” Cyn gushed.
“Peace, brother!” Bob smiled large as he flashed me the peace sign, “Thanks!”
“Bless you!” Cyn gushed.
“Peace, brother and sister…” I flashed a peace sign back and then, as I was swallowed by the moving crowd, I sighed allowed, “That was the best miracle ever!”

I was shit out of luck in getting home before the sunrise, the next train wasn’t until about 7:45 on Sunday morning and then, it was an hour and half to the end of the line where my wife was going to meet me. I sat by myself for most of the time, deflecting homeless souls, smiling at other Deadheads passing by and waiting, waiting and sometimes dozing off for a few until the trains finally started running. I didn’t have any battery power, my phone completely dead and I tried to use an “old fashioned” phone booth to call home, but it went to voice mail. My wife, fortunately, got the message in time and by the time the BART stopped at the end of the line in Pleasanton, she was waiting for me, top down in our VW Bug with a large coffee! I climbed in, kissed her with more passion that I imagined I could and did not stop talking the entire hour ride home. She kept reminding me, “I know, we saw the show too…” and “I heard that jam, it was incredible!” but I kept blabbing uncontrollably. At home the kids were still asleep and I went in to shower immediately; I was so sweaty crusty dirty and dusty, I need a cool shower to relax. We had a bowl in the back before I made one little video clip for myself (and friends) and then I crawled off to bed. Attempting to sleep, still buzzing from the energy of the show, the day was bright and growing hotter with each passing minute, I was lucky to have a solid four hours before waking up, doing a few hippie speedballs and then getting ready to tune in the stream for the next night’s show. I got to see that show, and hear it, in the comfort of my air conditioned living room, on the big screen with a loud sound system, a chilled bong at hand. Together, my wife and our two kids, the pets gathered around the room, The Grateful Dead experience simply doesn’t get better that this for me; we’re waiting with great anticipation for the conclusion next weekend.

Tomorrow I will share my "other" last show(s) from September of 1994...I invite you too to share your stories of your own. Tell me about your last show (before now) or your first show...or the best show, the worst show...the most dangerous show or which show did you meet your soul mate at? There are hundreds, thousands of stories about Grateful Dead adventures in Life and if we start to share them...I'll get my publisher to collect them, bind them into a book and we can keep our stories alive, we can continue passing them on for generations to come...Let's take this magic into The Future, it may be the only Hope for The Planet!

I think everyone had a great time, if you were there in Santa Clara or not, it was a wonderful experience and a perfect way to say "Fare Thee Well..." here at home, in California; now let's say so long to the rest of the world in Chicago!

Peace,

d'Philip

29 June 2015

The San Joaquin Valley

Republic of California

Earth

ANN COULTER EXPOSED! Admits to Enjoying the LSD Scene and the Music of a Renown Heroin Addict!

The Sexy Conservative...?

The centerfold styled darling of conservative news and pundits, author of “Adios, America!” and out-spoken opponent of many “Liberal Values” admitted in a recent interview on Sirius/XM, “Sit Down With Alfred and Chris”, that she herself is actually a “Grateful Deadhead” and Jerry Garcia is her favorite musician. On first glance, one might think this is an April Fool’s joke, a prank by Ashton Kushner or some twisted version of what Coulter actually said, but it’s not. That, my fellow Americans, is what is really freaky about this story! Indeed, it turns out that not only did Ann “Sunshine Daydream” Coulter actually say these things, it’s been verified by very good sources within the counter-culture communities, that indeed, Ann “Sunshine Daydream” Coulter has been a liberal, pot smoking, LSD music fan for quite a while (30+ years) and like she said on “Sit Down With Alfred and Chris”, she continues to enjoy being a Deadhead to this very day!

Ann "Sunshine Daydream" Coulter 
circa 1989 at a Grateful Dead show

In fact, she can’t wait for the “Fare Thee Well” concert event in Chicago during America’s Independence Day weekend, she’ll be partying with all the other Deadheads hippies one last time, as The Grateful Dead finally say good-bye.

"I Like To Stir-It Up!"

I know, it’s so strange to think this seemingly narrow minded, laser sharp focused Republican pundit/author, that woman with the nasty comments and who refused a hug from an immigrant because she “knew it was a trap” that would expose her for embracing “the enemy”, an immigrant, that, as she writes in her uber conservative book, are the reason America is going to hell; the same woman who said this past weekend (6/13/15) that women, along with immigrants and anyone who gets government aid, should be stripped of their voting rights!

Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter...
...Playing the left against the right?

It seems almost inconceivable that she is a Deadhead and many in that community are upset that she is associating herself with their unique community. This "very conservative" author/pundit simply goes against the grain of everything The Grateful Dead or the counter-culture community which supports the values, virtues and everything those damn hippies believe in; Peace, Love, Understanding, Tolerance, Equality, Free Expression of Sexuality, Expanding the Mind through Drugs, Meditation, Chanting, Drumming, Dancing, Music and Truth. It’s those last two I find hardest to find in Coulter’s “on screen persona”, Music and Truth. 

Ann "Sunshine Daydream" Coulter 
A Liberal Wolf in Conservative Sheep's Clothes?

However, what if this actually reveals a truth about Coulter’s character, perhaps as all of this evidence is suggesting, she is a wolf in sheep’s clothing only the wolf is liberal and the sheep is conservative? Perhaps the agenda is to undermine the neo-cons by being a “built in” spy, a person working from behind enemy lines and she’s not actually a conservative at all? 

It’s just that being a conservative not only pays better, she can (and is) wrecking the traditional values of The Republican party through her well documented efforts. 

Defiant on all sides!
Ann "Sunshine Daydream" Coulter Plays The Media

Coulter’s work, writing inflammatory books, making bold, brash, statements without facts or truth is not who she really is, but her goal is to convince people that the conservatives, especially the hate baiting media and the political art of playing both side against each other, are indeed illogical, they don’t have anyone’s interests but their own and they are slick, slimy, silly, stupid and a soured political force.

So appealing to the white male dominated politics...

 




The amazing thing, however, is Sunshine Daydream Coulter is being effective at making the neo-cons and conservative wing of the American political system indeed look bad! Her every appearance, every book she writes, she is causing great damage to The Republicans but even more flustering, The Republicans love her! 

Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter
Fighting For The Left Inside The Right?

Ann Sunshine Daydream Colter has indeed been an effective double agent, working for the greater good of the Liberal Values while being championed by those who adore her so much in The Republican Party! Not since Mata Hari or Tokyo Rose has there been a female subversive as clever as Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter; a Tie-dyed hippie chick, who embraces nearly everything the conservatives revile, dressed up as “A Lady in Red”, to continue and further (furthur, Ann?) the foolery and mockery inside the Republican party while getting most Democrats jumping up and down in frenzy over her outrageous statements! Pure brilliance, Sunshine Daydream, pure brilliance!

It’s a very well known fact, for instance, that during both The Nixon and Reagan, and again with Bush Sr, there were FBI/DEA agents who subverted themselves into the Grateful Dead community to bust people for drugs and other things.

Some remember Sunshine Daydream Fondly...

 A very good source within The Grateful Dead community cited a 1988 encounter with said undercover agents when he was busted for selling t-shirts that read “The Fedheads Are Among Us!” and featured a Grateful Dead style cartoon image of DEA agents. If not for his girlfriend, “Sunshine Daydream Annie” as he calls her now, “Annie, she was law student and her daddy was FBI, she just talked to the feds. I don’t know what she said, they had me face down on the ground, but after 10 minutes man, Annie got to them. They just, like, took off my cuffs, man, I’m telling you…” this 53 year old Deadhead source said, “I woulda been in the slammer! Sunshine Daydream is a smart cookie with a good plan! Man, she’s awesome and she could pull bongs better than any chick I ever knew too!” 

Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter
University of Michigan
Law Student
1986

Is It True?


In checking the facts of this story, it was difficult to ascertain because Coulter needs to remain “undercover” (she has yet to answer these claims) as well, there are not many in The Deadhead Community willing to talk  truth about Coulter; However Sunshine Daydream Annie was in law school, at The University of Michigan when The Grateful Dead played The Joe Louis Stadium in Detroit on April 11, 1988; there are records of DEA sting operations arresting dozens of people that night and Coulter herself let it slip just last week, her favorite songs are by a renown heroin addict and she embraces the LSD influenced culture of The Deadhead Community. 

Jerry Garcia, Favorite Musician of
Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter!

Unlike her refusal to psychically embrace an immigrant in front of the cameras or her call to strip women, minorities any one getting government aid for exercising their right to vote, Ann “Sunshine Daydream” Coulter is actually all about Captain Trips and The Band of Merry Pranksters!

There are many within the conservative fold who defend Coulter, saying she was a typical college student, making indiscriminate choices in her clueless youth, but does that hold water? It’s well established that Ann graduate cum laude from Cornell University, a smart cookie before getting her JD from Michigan State, where she was attending when she saved her boyfriend from The FedHeads. In fact, in verifying her education one finds out she was a member of The Federalist Society, perhaps another clue to her deeper non-conservative values; The Federalist Society was founded in 1982 to undermine the Republican Party subversively through the indoctrination of young, impressionable college students which, in theory, would move Republican Values towards Libertarian Values (and has been rather successful with the proselytization of professional politicos Rand Paul, Ted Cruz and Marc Rubio). So this becomes, again, more evidence of Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter’s real and secret agenda of dismantling the Grand Old Party of Lincoln, Eisenhower and Reagan. 

Sunshine Daydream Coulter shares jokes with fellow
hippie, George Carlin; they clearly see eye to eye!

Mr. & Mrs. Coulter

The fact she is in a bi-racial marriage doesn’t seem to mind those who champion her, but it is evidence of Coulter’s true core values and indicates she isn't the racist she's been made out to be by the Democratic left. Further scrutiny reveals a startling discovery that during those last years of The Grateful Dead’s touring days (1990-95), Sunshine Daydream Coulter was suspiciously working “private practice” in her New York City hometown doing “corporate law mostly” (code for lawyers who are not really working), because, it turns out within The Counter-Culture Community, she was the girlfriend of a “TapeHead” (Deadheads who tape recorded the show) and Sunshine Daydream was a familiar character on the scene!

The infamous "Tapers Section" where you often
found Sunshine Daydream!

Sunshine Daydream was often seen spinning around in a daze during Jerry Garcia solos, her tie-dyed pink and bright red thin fabric dress spiraling out in a psychedelic daisy but between shows, she was helping those who needed legal help in defense from “The Man”!

Indeed, like many of those Deadheads of her generation (myself included), Sunshine Daydream Coulter may have found the last couple years of The Grateful Dead experience became a lot less fun (the scene was not so much about the peace/love/unity and music but more about money/greed/violence and drugs). The final years, 1994-95, Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter, started laying the ground work for subversive assault on the American Political system, starting with attacks on Bill Clinton’s debacles with Paula Jones, Monica Lewinski and eventually, the impeachment vote against Clinton in 1999. In 1999 and 2000, Coulter considered running for Congress in Connecticut on the Libertarian Party ticket. Her goal? To serve as a spoiler in order to throw the seat to the Democratic candidate and see that Republican Congressman Christopher Shays failed to gain re-election! The leadership of the Libertarian Party of Connecticut, after meeting with Coulter, declined to endorse her. As a result, Sunshine Daydream Coulter’s self-described "total sham, media-intensive, third-party Jesse Ventura campaign" did not take place, however, she finally gained the national level recognition she needed to establish her agenda. 

Sunshine Daydream Coulter,
playing each side to the middle...

Sunshine Daydream Coulter has helped to both expose and start to erase the tyranny and oppression of The Modern American Political system by openly mocking both parties and doing to the professional politicos what they have been doing to the people for better part of the last 50 years; Coulter is successfully playing Democrats/Liberals and Republicans/Conservatives against one another for the greater good of all humanity! She did it using her intellect and wit (a common Deadhead trait), she used her disarming good looks, long flowing, sexy hair and beaming sunny smile (also common among Deadhead chicks) to get what she wanted, what she needed and fool The Man once again.

High School Class Photo, 1980
Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter

 



Using the tools provided by both political parties, combined with an imaginary plan one could hatch in the middle of a wild, psychedelic, mind-opening experience of LSD, as well as Sunshine Daydream’s early life watching her father do under-cover work for The FBI, she did what any intelligent Deadhead would do, she made the very best of a bad situation, she got shown the light, in the strangest of places, if you look at it right!

An American Beauty?
Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter
Lets Her Freak Flag Fly!

So, as a recovering Deadhead myself, as a non-political party activist and as one American to another, it’s hats off to Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter, you have masterminded and executed, singlehandedly, one of the greatest subversive political actions of The 21st Century! Like Edward Snowden or Julian Assange, you are a new kind of hero for you’ve successfully shown the hypocrisy of both political parties, you’ve exploited the media to demonstrate the vile and wretched ways it’s being used against the people and you remain a champion of The Counter Culture values and ethics of The Deadhead Community! Just keep doing it Sunshine Daydream, just keep spinning your daisy-chain skirt and tripping everyone up, because like Jerry once sang, sister…and sing it with me, it’s a Jerry song, you know how it goes…

This old engine, makes it on time

Leaves Central Station at a quarter to nine

Hits River Junction at seventeen to,

At a quarter to ten, you know it's trav'lin again

Drivin' that train, high on cocaine

Casey Jones you better watch your speed

Trouble ahead, Trouble behind…

…And you know that notion just crossed my mind

Trouble ahead, “The Lady in Red”

Take my advice, you be better off dead

Switchman sleepin, train hundred and two…

On the wrong track and headed for you!

Drivin' that train, high on cocaine

Casey Jones you better watch your speed!

Trouble ahead, Trouble behind…

…And you know that notion just crossed my mind!

Trouble with you is, the trouble with me

We got two good eyes, but we still don't see!

Come round the bend, you know it's the end…

The fireman screams and the engine just gleams!

Drivin' that train, high on cocaine

Casey Jones you better watch your speed!

Trouble ahead, Trouble behind…

…And you know that notion just crossed my mind!

(all together now)

And you know that notion… just, crossed, my mind!

“Casey Jones” by

Jerry Garcia & Robert Hunter

Released 6/14/1970

“Workingman’s Dead”

The Grateful Dead Line-Up During
Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter's Hippie Days

In conclusion, it’s easy for anybody of a certain age, to say “They were there, man…” when it all happened so very long ago. The Grateful Dead, much like Ann “Sunshine Daydream” Coulter, is a one of a kind experience and unless you’ve actually been there yourself, it’s impossible to explain it to anyone else. Like an orgasm, taking LSD, or even being in a war zone, unless you have felt it, it is impossible to describe. There were no cell phone cameras, nobody kept records or anything so who really knows if Sunshine Daydream Coulter is telling the truth about her Deadhead roots but in the end, what difference does it make?

 Those in The Deadhead community who were there back in the day may remember it like me, a sort of “secret society” that most people never truly understood. But we knew each other, we were strangers passing strangers just to shake each other’s hands and we always recognized our own; Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter was born the very day after me, (08 December 1961) and in truth, from the photos/videos I’ve seen, yeah I’d have to admit she looks like she could easily have been one of the skinny hippie chicks I always saw spinning in front of Jerry and Bobby, but I’ve yet to meet her in person, so I couldn’t be sure (even then, who knows?).

Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter Recently...
...still has that hippie chick look, right?

One thing I do know, once you truly become a Deadhead, no matter what else you are in your life, the magic of their music seeps into everything you think, feel and sometimes even what you say and do too. A Deadhead always carries the music, the magic of the moments we shared, the experiences we each felt…we are kind hearted, compassionate and most often free thinking individuals who have respect for the planet and all of it’s Life…we believe Love over Money wins every time and we’re proud of our contributions to the collective humanity of this world. 

Is Ann Sunshine Daydream Coulter part of The 710 Tribe?

I’m not sure, but if I see her in the shows, I’ll share a joint while we laugh about back in the day together!

Peace,

d'Philip

15 June 2015

The San Joaquin Valley

Republic of California

Earth

PeaceLoveBliss (20 years later…)

June the 7^th of 1995 was a sunshine daydream kind of Midwestern day; big blue skies, warm air with low humidity, a breezy lakefront breeze and an easy flowing energy that seemed to radiate from everywhere and everyone. Riding in my ’86 Pontiac with the top down, Kellygirl and I made our way through the city to North Avenue and to a joint called “Tattoo Tatu” in the Wicker Park part of town. With my hand drawn vine like design of our three words, with several hundred bucks in our pockets, with the good fortune of meeting a talented artist named Lacy and with several hours to spare sitting in an uncomfortable chair while getting drilled with a needle full of black ink and blood, we did it. We inked our love around our ankles, forever branding ourselves for each other, a perfect pair of tattoos, that forever reads “PEACELOVEBLISS”. 

Truth be told this many years later, I am a coward and did not have my whole tattoo completed. There is a thin section, on the back of my ankle, near my Achilles’ tendon, where the two “ss” of Bliss are not completely filled in; the tattoo artist had to stop because I was bleeding so profusely by this time, she couldn’t see the work. I was supposed to go back a few days later to have it finished off, but I never did; I still have not done it and though I think about maybe having the ink updated for our 25^th anniversary, I don’t think I’ll have it finished. The fact that it is unfinished has come to symbolize something in our relationship; we are never quite finished with one another, Kelly and me. We, like my unfinished tattoo, are a work of art still in progress.

“So these are like your engagement bands then?” I remember the artist asking as I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth. She was working on the thin part of my ankle in front and being the bleeder I am, there was a mess of blood dripping from my ankle. We were branding ourselves for life in the name of love and this suffering was worth the pain. The artist made a scratching feeling and said, “That’s so cool, so romantic…” and then, in the same tone, “this will hurt.”

“Love hurts.” I grunted as Cassidy played drawing with Kelly somewhere behind me. I could see Kelly in a mirror and I thought about how brave she was for going first. Hers was done and though she was tender, she smiled at me. The artist again made that scratching feeling, “Ahhhh…ssshhit!”

“Sorry about that…”

The Split/Apple, by June of 1995, was showing signs of splitting itself into segments. There were different camps of people who all felt entitled to run the operation yet because I was the primary financial supporter of this loft and all that it contained, I remained in control, and that made some people unhappy. Mark Gleason, in particular, was pulling in a different direction than I was and by June he was ready to leave the friendly confines of the loft. Other people had moved in, besides Kelly, we had Atom Space, his girlfriend Nickle Winner and B. Bowls McDaab, a St. Louis boy with filmmaking aspirations who were all siding with Matt; The Split/Apple should be a private club and cater more towards filmmaking and less towards music. My position, which was shared by Kelly, Josh, Dengler and The Indigo Girl was that The Split/Apple should remain a public oriented thing and it should just evolve however it should evolve…music, film, tattoos, whatever!

“It hurts Kelly!” I was complaining as she rubbed bag balm on my tender ankle, “This is a big thing for me to do, being a Jew and all, tattoos are evil things.”

“Tattoos are evil?”  

“Well in the Torah, the Jewish bible,” I got all d’Philosophical on her as she tenderly rubbed my fresh ink, “there’s this thing about not desecrating the body God gave you…that means tattoos and piercing…self mutilation…that is sinful stuff…But then there’s the Holocaust thing about it…”

“The Holocaust thing?” her fingers felt magically cool on the freshly singed flesh, “What do you mean?”

“The Nazis’ tattooed numbers on the Jews…” I held up my wrist and showed her, “Right here, they would stamp numbers into their wrists, before shipping them off to the chambers…”

“Really?”

“My Grandpa Jack’s friend Saul…” I shifted, “He had one, it was creepy.”

“Don’t move…” she said with a Motherly tone, “I’m not done yet…”

“Not done yet what?” Mark Gleason poked his head into our room and smiled strangely, “You got tattoos?”

“Yeah…” Kelly held up her right ankle while showing off mine in her hands, “Matching ones, they’re our engagement bands.”

“Engagement bands?” he was confused, “You’re getting married now?”

“Yes!” I love the way she says yes, she affirmed, “d’Philip asked me to marry him and I said yes, of course…”

“When did all this happen?”

“Last Monday.” I said matter of factly because I knew what Gleason was thinking about Kellygirl being my Yoko. I pulled my freshly saved ankle from my young bride and smiled with pride, “Like John&Yoko…we’re going to be wed.”

“When?” Gleason was flabbergasted, “Wow, that’s just so…fast. I mean, congrats and all, but wow…when?”

“Next month.” Kelly smiled, “After ‘Deadheads’…”

“Deadheads?” Mark used to always say this, “What do you mean?”

“Deadheads On Parade.” I knew this was going to be a confrontation and I sat myself up on our bed, “Over the weekend when The Grateful Dead are playing at Soldier’s Field…we’re going to have our biggest event yet…it’s going to make us famous and blow the roof off the place!”

“I thought we were going to discuss this more, I didn’t know it was a sure thing or anything…” Mark sat on the end of the bed and I held court; he made his appeal, “we’re not ready for it, I think we need to talk more about it, it’s a big under-taking and not only do we have no money, but almost no volunteers…we can’t do this event.” 

“Yes we can and we are going to…” I held ground like a pit bull boss, “I have the bucks to float it and we can always get more volunteers.”

“You have the bucks?” Mark doubted me, “From where?”

“From my sources…” I was ambiguous for a reason; I had no sources and all the money I had left was about a thousand dollars and a credit card with about $5,000 available. I continued my bluff, “So, the money isn’t the issue. As for volunteers, I’ll get some of the new kids to come through…”

“What new kids?”

“These kids from Hinsdale…” I bargained, “I tell you what, Mark, if we do this thing I’ll not only fund it myself, but I will pay you guys a fee, a flat fee and then if there’s anything left from the venture, it’s mine.”

“It’s yours?” he said his famous line, “What do you mean it’s yours?”

“All mine.” I was meaning more than just the profits too, I was signifying that if we did this gig and it was as successful as I thought it would be, the power struggle was over and the winner, being me, takes all. I clarified for him, “What I mean is, I get the proceeds and we’re going to do things my way around here after that, dig?” 

“What if it bombs?”

“It won’t.” Kellygirl assured him.

“If it fails then it goes whatever way you guys want…” I added, with a dramatic light of a cigarette, “…with or without me, fair enough?”

“I suppose.” Then, with his bright eyes squinting, “What sort of flat fee are you thinking about?”

“You guys would get $100 each, even if it flops…” then I sweetened the deal he couldn’t refuse, “but if it’s as successful as I think it will be, you’ll each get triple the amount, sound fair enough?”

“That’s like $1,500…” he shook his long haired head, “We’ve barely even made that much before; I don’t see how it can be done.”

“I can see it, trust me…” I knew what I was talking about. I held the ciggies like a prop and then, “So, sonny, you have to ask yourself; is it a deal or not?”
            “I can’t speak for everyone…” Mark smiled graciously, “But it sounds good to me. I’ll tell Bowls and Atom about it too, but I bet they’d agree too.”

“You do that.” I waved my ciggies with a casual so long gesture and looked at Kelly, “but right now, me and my love have to go get something to eat.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re hungry…”

“Three Happiness?” Kellygirl asked, it was our favorite restaurant in nearby Chinatown, practically walking distance away from the loft. She loves Chinese food, “I could go for some chicken fried rice…”

“I was thinking Arranda’s” I named my favorite Mexican joint for big fat burritos and added, “it’s a beautiful night for a drive…”

“Top down?” Kelly beamed.

“Of course…” I turned to Mark, “Anything else?”

“No, I guess not…” Mark stood up and walked towards the makeshift door on our lair, he turned back, “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow about this then, right?”

“Sounds fair.” I stabbed my half smoked cigarette to death in the ashtray, “You let me know in the morning.”

“But what if it’s not a deal?”

“It’s a done, dead deal.” I chuckled, “A done Grateful Dead deal!”

“What do you mean?” he stood there, half in, half out of the room, holding the door close to his thin, bare chest, “A dead deal?”

“Just a metaphor, Mark…playing with words, that’s all.” I swung my tender freshly inked ankle off the bed and stood up, “Let’s go baby.”

“Okie-dokie, doggy daddy!” Kelly jumped off the bed like Alabama Whorley in the movie, True Romance, she smiled “I’m with you!”

“We gone.”” I smiled at Mark, “Smell ya later, skater…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

www.dphilipchalmers.net

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The above story is from the original manuscript draft of “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” and the reason I’m publishing it today, 8 June 2015, is because it’s been 20 years to the day since my wife and I got our “PeaceLoveBliss” tattoo engagement bands and I had that very conversation about Deadheads On Parade with my partners at The Split/Apple…and now, as The Grateful Dead reunite for a “Fare Thee Well” ride in Chicago, although my idea about resurrecting “The Split/Apple’s Deadheads on Parade” fizzled, my wife and I are still very much in love, very much married…But Mark Gleason, my primary partner at The Split/Apple, the one who considered Kelly to be the Yoko of my undoing…is finally getting married, on, of all days…our 20^th anniversary, July 16^th!

This little d’Tale is a precursor to the next three (3) articles which I’ll soon publish regarding those of you going to Chicago for The Grateful Dead’s Fare Thee Well event on July 3-5 of 2015 (dude, that’s less than a month away)! When we operated The Split/Apple, and on that weekend of Deadheads on Parade, I used to pile people into my little red convertible and cruise them around Chicago, pointing out the interesting and odd, the quirky and forgotten places of the under belly of this city…We called the ride “The Tragical History Tour” and it started at The Split/Apple, at 1720 South Michigan Avenue, travel from Chinatown to Wrigleyville, along the lakefront, on lower Wacker Drive and eventually back to where we started…but since I have no intention of returning to Chicago, even for this show (it’s far too sad a memory), I thought perhaps I would provide a hippie tour guide’s perspective of this historic, wonderful city, starting with the rich and diverse history, extending into the deep musical roots and ending with a photo spectacular of all the sights within sight to see while you’re there…

In closing, after a weekend without Internet (a service interruption because of a massive construction accident), I have sunk myself into writing and trying to stay cool, it’s hot here in The San Joaquin, in fact, right now…15:00 on Monday 6/8/2015 the temperature is a whopping 103 degrees! Summer has not even started and we’re sizzling! This week is an easy week and I plan to keep it that way. The past 12 weeks of promoting the book has taken a toll on me, a toll I’m not even sure of what the damage is yet, but in truth, I just need to be aloof, off on my own cloud…drift over to see The Grateful Dead in Santa Clara at the end of this month and then, we’ll see how I’m feeling, right? I will post the “Chicago Trilogy” over the next so many days, so be on the look out and in the meanwhile…Take care, be well and stay safe!

Peace,

d’Philip

08 June 2015

The San Joaquin Valley

Republic of California

Earth