I graduated from college with a Bachelor of Science in English. The plan was to get a Masters Degree and then a Ph.D. and become a professor of literature at some college. After a single semester of graduate school, I realized I was exhausted, tired of living in libraries, tired of taking tests, writing papers, and the entire educational system. I decided to take a year off and then I could start fresh again.
A quarter of a century later, I still haven’t returned to school.
For a few years after that disastrous semester, I worked a lot of odd jobs and moved to various cities across the country. Whenever I was between jobs I often went home to Oklahoma and worked with my Dad. The summer of 2001 was one such period.
When I heard Phil Lesh was coming to Oklahoma City I immediately bought tickets. The day came and I printed out my driving instructions from MapQuest, making sure to highlight the major turns because it’s a bugger trying to make sense of those things while speeding down the highway.
As far as I could tell the Zoo Amphitheater didn’t have any real parking. Outside the venue was a large grassy area with lots of trees and a few little roadways passing through it. Everyone seemed to be parking there. Rather haphazardly I thought. I found me a space and walked through the lot scene. I didn’t stop for a Kind Veggie Burrito or any tie-dyed shirts. This was a general admission show and I wanted to secure a good spot.
The Amphitheater is a smallish venue. It sits on a small hill with the stage at the bottom. There were no seats but periodically some cut, rectangular stones had been dug into the ground creating a sort of spaced-out step system. I hadn’t brought any chair or a blanket to sit on so I found one of those stones close to the stage and sat myself down.
This was July in Oklahoma and it was hot. Damn hot. I was already covered in sweat. The grass that originally had covered the ground had long since been beaten into submission and murdered by the heat. What was left was a lot of dirt. I was already getting covered in it.
Up front, just to the side of the stage was a sort of camp shower. It was full of Deadheads trying to find some relief from the heat. I gathered with the dirty hippies and got myself good and wet. That cooled me down for a short while and turned the dust that covered my body into mud. Later some kind soul would take a hose and spray the entire crowd down.
I bought myself a way too expensive bottle of water and waited for the show to begin.
I don’t remember much of the show, except that it was a good one. I remember Warren Haynes belting out The Beatles’ “She Said, She Said” and a great rendition of “The Wheel.” I’d only just learned that song but it had quickly become a favorite. Its lyrics remain profound.
I was desperately hoping for a version of “Ripple” or “Box of Rain” for the encore but instead, we got a cover of Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” which wasn’t bad.
What I really remember is just how ferocious the band sounded. I had seen RatDog* a couple of times at this point and they always sounded more intricate, more steadily put together. Phil and Friends were full of sound and fury. They were loud. They jammed on every song. It was great.
The sun eventually went down and cooled things off. The show ended late. Oklahoma City is a couple of hours from where my parents were living and I got home very late. I got home sunburned, exhausted, and utterly filthy, but with the biggest smile on my face.
That’s was Phil Lesh brought to the world. He let people dance and shake their bones. He gave joy to thousands of people all over the world.
What a long, long time to be gone. And a short time to be there.
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*Listening to a recording of the Phil and Friends show earlier today I thought I heard Bob Weir sing on the first couple of songs but I just *knew* that couldn’t be true. Someone commented on the show on Archive.org about Bob making a guest appearance and I was ready to argue with him.
“I was there”, I was going to write, and “Bob wasn’t there.” “I don’t care if it sounds like him, I was there, damn it and I’m telling you Bob Weir didn’t make an appearance.” I was working on retorts like “Why would Bob Weir comes to freaking Oklahoma and only play on a couple of songs.” Then I looked it up. Bob was there. RatDog opened the show. I have no memory of that whatsoever.
