I'm not a deadhead.
Like I'm not a peacenik or an environmentalist or feminist or any of the
other important movements that have shaped my life as a human on this
planet, female, American, 42 years old, and caring that we will survive.
I'm an individual, and I don't need to call myself a deadhead. Nope.
Besides, its been over a year since I went to a show, and I don't even trade
tapes and I probably only listen to the GD Hour on the radio cuz I know
Gans. And cuz the not-deadhead I live with likes to listen to the band,
too...
OK, I'm hurting deeply because I've been in denial about how important the
magic of the Dead has been in my life.
Losing Jerry puts a lot in perspective. And I don't want to lose my
deadhead community I denied I was part of. I love you... uh, us.
The Dead have a lot to do with why I fell in love with cyberspace, this
deeply human realm of the imagination. Deadheads are the perfect virtual
community.
I posted this in the WELL Virtual Communities Conference once in response
to a question by Steve
Silberman:
vc.213.57: (gail) Mon 28 Nov 94 When I discovered the set-list rotiserie league topic I almost died. What a great mixing of metaphors and use of this media! I've told several baseball fans who are not deadheads per se, and they've loved the idea, too. That's in tours.183: Rotisserie DeadShow - Fun for the speculators! Most bands do a canned thing through a whole tour, you couldn't do a rotisserie set list even if you *had* a virtual fan clubhouse. vc.213.72: (gail) Tue 29 Nov 94 I notice that the current Netguide features the GD areas on AOL in glowing terms, with only a hint of wry. My theory -- eschewing the David Gans/WELL connection theory for now -- is that deadheads are a true virtual community that was simply looking for a medium, a petri dish in which to grow. And a couple of savvy telecom pioneers howed the soil and passed out fliers at Dead Shows and got a little scene cooking here. The WELL was a good match because of its early cultural history, coming from the Whole Earth tradition of access and exploration. Deadheads and some-time deadheads are perfect in that they -- we -- have already got common vocabulary, texts to discuss, events to follow, plans to make... and built-in gatherings at shows. There is a shared, dispersed culture. And it can be transmitted sans tie-dye, in the realm of ideas. So here we settle in, all the more gorgeous for being only the lyrics, and having to each fill in the music of our encounters in our heads. Then there's the contact high aspect. We all know that ascii can be transformative, that words can whack us good on the head like a koan or a chorus repeated. But so much the better to be in the company of others who've known transformations and transitions, who have a vocabulary of tripping, and who know how to talk one another down from anxiety or up to joy.
The eyes of the world are full of tears tonight.
-Gail Williams