What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been!

I wish I could say that to Ex-Man #1, but he passed away in 2020.  We'd been married a scant 3-1/2 months, and Walter, 5 yrs my senior, introduced 18-yr-old-me to hitherto unknowns, notably Army life, drinking-and-smoking, and my now preferred rock genre, including:

"The Grateful Dead played a legendary concert in New Jersey on August 6, 1974, at Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City, featuring their massive "Wall of Sound" and an iconic second set with a massive "Playing in the Band" jam, "He's Gone," "Truckin'," and "Sugar Magnolia," with notable commentary about Nixon's impending resignation. This high-energy show is considered a highlight of their 1974 tour, just before their hiatus." (an AI synopsis)

We were there.  One day Walter, a Military Policeman, came home after a swing shift and announced he had tickets to the concert - for that night.  The first Dead concert had been a rainout, so we got the tickets from someone who had to work and couldn't go to the new date; for less than $10 apiece.  I didn't appreciate our good fortune at the time, but at least some of their songs were familiar to me, for it was one of Walter's favorite bands.

We were living in Asbury Park, on the Jersey Shore, in a run-down-but-cheap Victorian divided up into 6 or so apartments. (Photo:  now all fancy B&B's and such).

Local boy Bruce Springsteen was becoming 'known,' and the Stone Pony had recently opened up the street from where we lived.  Something else I didn't appreciate at the time.  Too busy learning how to cook.

Everyone called my husband Wally except me - I felt like The Beaver when I tried.  Walter was stationed at Ft. Monmouth, about 1/2-hour from my parent's home. He'd already been stationed in Okinawa at the tail-end of Vietnam, and he and his buddies would debate the B.S. of the war; the latest strain of pot; and music.  I was way out of my element but took it all in.

The Grateful Dead was my first 'rock' concert since Atlantic City,  c.1965, on a day trip with my parents and sister.  Strolling along the Boardwalk we noticed a bunch of kids outside a theater with a propped up sign, Free Admission; and that's when I saw The Cowsills.  I also saw Liberace at the Garden State Arts Center in 1969, a real showman if not a rocker.

Back at Roosevelt Stadium, I didn't know what to expect from my first real rock concert.  We were on the floor, and given my inexperience probably weren't very prepared, cushion-wise.  The place was packed with people, standing most of the time anyway.  Maybe I was the one on the floor, for besides the fabulous music, that's my only remaining memory...that plus it seemed all you needed to do was inhale.  We were probably drinking Chianti out of a wineskin.

The Dead, to my recollection, played for 5 hours straight, I may have missed the intermission; but the Dead often performed for 4+ hours. They ended with US Blues, my personal favorite. To true Deadheads I'm sure it's shameful that someone with my lack of appreciation managed to attend such a wonderous event, just my luck :)

In 2015 I began a list of concert's I'd attended (left), adding names as I remembered, in order to weave them into a story.  And to remind me.  I'm amazed at the variety - and the fact that as young 20-somethings we could afford to go, I don't understand how prices got so crazy.  Here's what I remember:

In addition to the Dead, we saw the J Geils Band, featuring Magic Dick and his Lickin' Stick (harmonica) during their Live - Full House tour, before we were transferred to Germany in 1975.

Walter went back to his primary job as a Nike Hercules missileman on a remote base on top of a mountain.  I worked in Kaiserslautern and we lived mid-way in this postcard-town, Mehlbach. Yada-yada, we became pals with Tom and Rita (below), who were also childless in the family-oriented military lifestyle. We've remained friends far longer than my marriage.

There were always concerts going on and we frequently went together.  Rita has popped up throughout my blog - my 'bitch-slapping friend,' I lovingly call her.  They later had two children but tragically lost Pam to cancer last year, leaving a grief-stricken husband, young son and my friends,.  You never think...

The Eagles - 1977, Frankfurt, Hotel California tour

Peter Frampton - 1976, Ludwigshafen, Frampton Comes Alive tour

Eric Clapton (my favorite), who I saw three times, all in Germany. The first time was outrageous; while the second time held a surprise moment: Donovan opened for Eric, but the audience behaved badly and boo'd him, anxious to see Slowhand.  Clapton came out and played for 15 minutes, then declared, "You don't treat my friends like that," and walked off the stage, no refund.  I haven't been able to find verification online, other than they toured around the same time. Maybe Clapton invited Donovan to stop by and play for the hell of it, nothing formal.  Regardless, I know what I saw, and there are lots of people out there who saw the same. Ask Eric.

The third time seeing Clapton was the best, for it was at the famous Zeppelinfeld in Nuremberg, July 1, 1978, an open air festival with Bob Dylan.   Gates opened at 10 and music started at 2.  Tom and Rita were with us, and other than the stage and performances I remember climbing all those steps to our bleacher seats, time and again (all that wine) with Rita encouraging me to keep climbing.  It was dark by the time Bob played, and he never moved from one spot on stage - he just rocked from side to side.  It was about that time that someone nearby started lighting sparklers and hot embers were landing on unsuspecting people, so we were were busy brushing off embers. But oh, what a concert!

YES, Heidelberg, 1977, Going For the One tour

After one concert, I can't recall which, as everyone was leaving the crowd started pushing faster than people could get through the doors.  Rita and I became separated from Tom and Walter and I barely held Rita's hand, our feet never touching the ground, as we were swept out of the hall without any control. I understand how people get trampled in crowds, it was frightening.

I learned to love Mountain (Climbing); Spirit (Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus); the James Gang (Thirds and Rides Again); Poco (Deliverin); Marshall Tucker Band (Long Hard Ride); T-Rex and Thin Lizzy, thanks to Walter's taste. Some of my friends will have no idea who these groups are; 99.9% of my old albums are gone; and the bands which radio stations now consider Classic Rock aren't to me.  So I look for used CDs in Goodwill or if I find one really cheap online.  One co-worker, surprised as I unwrapped Carole King's Tapestry, asked if I had a CD player.  Sure, in my car and my RV's stereo.  How else do you listen?

Stationed at White Sands Missile Range next, Walter and I took a spur-of-the-moment trip to Las Vegas in my '79 MG Midget, isn't it sweet? The sun was brutal and we had to keep the top up the entire way, it was hard to breathe.  By the time we stopped at a motel in Arizona, while Walter was checking in I walked directly to their pool and jumped in, fully clothed.

We finally made it to Vegas, where we saw Siegfried and Roy at the Frontier, and caught Tom Jones at Ceasar's Palace. Audience members would toss him their bra or panties and he'd wipe his head or armpits then toss it back to the excitedly screaming middle-aged woman.  It was pretty gross, but TJ put on a great show, swinging his hips to his classic hits.  I had no desire to see Wayne Newton.

We took another road trip somewhere and saw John Denver.  Unfortunately, things weren't going well between us and Walter was pissed about something, so it was difficult to enjoy our Rocky Mountain High. At the time, JD was in the news for an underground gasoline tank he had installed on his property; then removed because of all the bad publicity.  It was 1980 or so, before his life took a downturn.  Always sad to hear.

We divorced and Walter went back to Germany with the new Patriot missile system.  I moved to Las Cruces and eventually remarried another serviceman.

My indoctrination to Country Western music began when I worked in Germany, for a crazy Sargeant who'd crank up the radio when Armed Forces Radio broadcast their 30 minute CW show.  Every day.  I never admitted I began to enjoy it, which was a good thing because my next-Ex, from Kentucky, loved the genre.  Our concerts together, 1982-83-ish, included:

Reba McIntyre - as opening act for mmmMel Tillis, also in Las Vegas.  That dates me, for sure.  

The Oakridge Boys, 1981, Giddy-up, Elvira!

I did talk #2 into a couple of concerts in Las Cruces, NM, including:

INXS, the opening act for, I thought, Hall & Oates; a strange combo, I thought at the time. Then it was Men at Work with gal-pal Gayle (r) while I waited to be 'sent for' in Germany.  This scene is on White Sands Missile Range, with the Organ Mountains in the background.

My second marriage fared as well as my first, so in 1986 I returned to New Jersey and began working in Manhattan.  My fondness for concerts continued:

Frank Sinatra - also at the Garden State Arts Center, Holmdel, NJ, in the late 80s  At work one day, I heard on my radio that Sinatra would be performing that evening, lawn seating still available, so I called Sis and it didn't take much convincing.  His voice was kinda gravelly but nobody cared.  He strode back and forth across the stage, pausing for a drink of some kind, telling anecdotes between songs, delighting the audience. Hillary would applaud with everyone else when a new song started up, until finally I recognized one:

"I know this one - it's Jack the Knife!"

"Mack the Knife," she corrected, "why did you even want to come?"

"Because it's Frank Sinatra, and he usually only performs in London and Vegas anymore, how could we not?"

Elton John - Madison Square Garden (comp'd tickets) The One Tour, 1990.  The seats were behind the stage but Sir Elton had a rotating stage, so everyone saw him in motion the entire time.  He was dressed-down compared with his earlier over-the-top outfits, but it was following his rehab and he was transforming, you've seen the movie.

Steve Miller - Garden State Arts Center, 1990.  First date with a new beau, he was impressed I slipped into the Men's Room rather than wait in line...  Also at the Arts Center (renamed PNC Bank, ugh)

Chicago and the Moody Blues, 1991

America with the Jefferson Starship, 1990.  Sis and I attended their 'after-party' at a local hotel and wound up partying with America (and their entourage) all night, ah, the good-old days when I could still function with a hangover.

The Beach Boys, with Mom, late 1980s. She loved the 3-B's as she called them:  Brahms, Beethoven and the Beach Boys (she sometimes switched for the Beatles).  I took her to an afternoon concert at the Arts Center and we had lawn tickets.  Mom couldn't sit still and insisted on standing on the chair so she could see better.  She was dancing and singing - knew all the words - everyone around us got a kick out of her; so cute, in her 60s, I think.

I moved to Portland in 1994 with third-husband Tino, who subsequently passed unexpectedly 6 months later.  Friends tried to distract me with various activities, including concerts:

Neil Diamond - Portland, 1996.  A co-worker invited me to the outdoor performance, but I'm not sure where - the Washington Park Ampetheter?

Another friend invited me to another outdoor fest in Portland:  the B.B. King Blues Festival, 1995.  I'd been recovering from a badly damaged sciatic nerve, and sitting outdoors in one spot became sheer misery.  I was practically crying and had to leave JUST AS B.B. began.  Vicki never got pissed, what a friend.

Decades later, after my hiatus on the boat and on the road with BC, we went to free outdoor concerts in Albany, OR, during their balloon fest and saw Firefall and Styx, around 2012; here's Firefall's frontman Jock Barkley, read Firefall and the Hermit.

I think those are the last 'rock' concerts I've attended.  Any 'revival tour' I might want to catch I won't, the prices are crazy.  Besides, I've got plenty of memories.  I'll bet you thought this post would never end...but as I said in the beginning, this was more for my benefit than anything else, plus I'm glad I can finally tick this off my list of things-to-write.

So whatever happened to Walter?  Well, he re-married several years after we split, and they remained married 35 years until his death in 2020.  My second husband and I ran into him in El Paso where he invited us over; so I met Walter's Helene, a very nice woman with two children.  I was glad he found a stable relationship.

Walter tracked me down online a number of years before his death and would occasionally comment on my blog.  We didn't re-hash old times, but it is hard to pretend someone in your life never existed.  After all, besides music he taught me how to wind a reel-to-reel, use a P-38 canopener (r), very handy in a pinch, and drive under difficult conditions.  And we did have good times.  Plus, thanks to the Post Exchanges, I'm now able to supplement my Social Security by selling things on my Etsy shop.

Wally retired from the Army and became a Park Ranger in Arizona, I'd have never guessed.  I found his obituary, which I shared with Tom and Rita; and always meant to write a story about him, particularly regarding music. I don't think anyone would object to my little backstory.

The recent loss of Bob Weir of the Grateful Dead was the impetus to write this down, and even then, it's taken me a month. Condolences to his family, such a talent.