Earlier this afternoon I was watching a movie. When it was over, I looked at my phone. There were messages from friends from all over the country. They were all saying something like, “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Bob Weir has passed.”

I didn’t know what to say. Now I don’t know what to write. I’m still processing the news. 

I first listened to the Grateful Dead in high school. I bought Skeletons From the Closet – a collection of their “greatest hits” from one of those Columbia House deals where you got 12 CDs for a penny or some such thing. I liked quite a lot of it, but found some of it to be a bit weird (strangely, I absolutely loved “Rosemary” one of the most un-Dead like things they ever recorded.)

But I didn’t venture any farther than that until college. I had a buddy who had a handful of shows he’d recorded off a guy he knew in high school whose brother was a collector (the kid would allow him to tape one show every time my friend would take him to McDonald’s for lunch.) He’d play those tapes loud while we were driving around Montgomery, Alabama, and I totally dug it (I also thought the idea of these unofficially released tapes was just the coolest.)

From there I bought American Beauty, and I’ve been on the bus ever since.

In 1994 the Dead came to Birmingham, and my friend asked me if I wanted to go with him. The tickets were like $30 (!), which I thought was way too expensive for my budget, so I figured I’d catch them the next time they came around. Obviously, they never did come around again for the next year Jerry was dead.

I did get to see Bob Weir in various bands over the years and always loved the shows. The last time I got to see him was on the Americanarama tour in Nashville. That was the time Bob Dylan toured around with bands like Wilco and My Morning Jacket. Weir did just a few gigs with them as a solo artist. Before that show, we were all standing around outside the gate, waiting for them to open it. It was an outdoor venue, and the fence keeping us out wasn’t very high.

Suddenly I hear a familiar sound. I’d know Bob Weir’s guitar sound anywhere. Sure enough, I peek over the fence, and there he is, standing all by his lonesome on stage with his guitar. It was a soundcheck, and I could hear him clear as day. He ran through several songs, including a great version of Dylan’s “Most of the Time.”  

People all around me were chatting and paying no attention. I kept giving them glares and quietly telling them all to shut up. Didn’t they know one of the greats was on stage giving us a little private concert?

I was enthralled. And Bob wasn’t just going through the motions; he was really playing and singing those songs. He was always the consummate musician. Later that night he joined Wilco for a rousing version of “Bird Song” and an incredible cover of The Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows.”

I had tickets to see him with Dead & Co. in Texas for their “final tour” but I got sick and couldn’t go.

I’m rambling now. Like I said, I’m still processing this loss. I’ve loved The Grateful Dead and Bob Weir for longer than I’ve lost just about anything else. If there is any comfort in this, it is that his music will live on without him. Those songs are timeless. And the fact that so many of his shows were recorded means we can still be listening to them for decades to come.

I’m not good at knowing what my favorite performances of anything are. So I don’t have a list of Bob Weir’s greatest moments.  But someone mentioned this performance of “Greatest Story Ever Told” and by god it is a good one.