Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

This book fills a niche as an accurate and entertaining account of what it was like to follow the Grateful Dead, and what the shows and lifestyle were like as a "deadhead." The problem is, Peter Conners writes well enough that you want more. I wanted him to answer some of his own questions and maybe show some insight into his own observations. But the entire experience is presented without any real insight on the author's part. Without that insight this is just a self-indulgent account of a young man with a protracted adolescence. He never answers the initial question about why middle class white kids want to act poor and scrounge around the country in crappy cars following a band. I was on `the scene' about 10 years before the author. I sang Jerry's songs as lullabies and my son grew up listening to the Garcia/Grisman music for children. My husband is in The Grateful Dead Movie. Does that make us Deadheads? Not by this author's description. I never needed LSD to enjoy a show, I never stopped showering, I never frightened people around me by losing consciousness, I was never a freeloader, and I never put my family or work second to attending a show. Conners doesn't explain why the Dead, for him, came before having a college education or a job. The only thing the Dead seemed to help him focus on was using drugs and avoiding the responsibilities of adulthood. For young people reading this book, I want you to know that we weren't all high, tripping, dropouts doing illegal things to support ourselves. Some of us, Jerry included, had excellent work ethics. It is an unfortunate stereotype that deadheads are remembered as dirty, drug-using, freeloading and self-serving. Conners' book perpetuates that stereotype, even though as a kindred spirit I know that he recognizes Dead shows as a remarkable slice of American music history. The author presents no information to refute the image of Deadheads as middle class white kids acting poor. For example, at one point Conners writes, as a way of showing some type of personal growth, that he had come to terms with his body's odors and was OK with them. Well, Peter, it's not all about you. You live in a community and there are other people around you who aren't OK with your poor hygiene. Does being a Deadhead mean you're a narcissist? Doesn't not showering further the stereotype of Deadheads as middle class white kids acting poor? Conners doesn't talk about the amazing variety of people who were attracted to Dead shows, the very well-educated, talented, creative crowds that often included children and grandparents. For him it was all about the music and I got the impression that he really didn't notice much beyond his drug/music/dancing experience. It's true that there were plenty of guys just like him, but the scene was much bigger and richer than that. Conners writes, "Deadheads are the last bastion of the old guard American resistance to consumer culture." Is he kidding? He talks about the tie-dyes, the bumpers stickers, the tickets, the Guatemalan clothes and shoes, his reliance on consumers to make his own money to keep following the show. The Grateful Dead is a very deliberately packaged, marketed and copyright-protected commodity. Deadheads were rampant, voracious consumers of the commodity of Dead. Conners says "the scene" ended and Deadheads got a bad rap when young kids didn't know how to behave at shows. OK then, you tell me, which is worse, selling 90 doses of LSD in the parking lot (author) or breaking a glass door? (young kids today). Isn't this like the pot calling the kettle black? The author complains that the kids lining up for nitrous are going to pass out and draw negative attention, but isn't that sort of exactly what the young author did at his second show? Can't he see that sometimes he was one of those "young kids" giving the scene a bad rap? And since when are cops and EMT's "bad energy" when they will always be the first responders when you, your friends and family, are in crisis? The scene hadn't really changed, it was the author that was changing, but he doesn't see this. Here are some of the questions that were posed but never answered. Why are kids from broken homes drawn to Dead shows? What was it about the Dead that drew such a diverse audience? Why did drug use go with Dead shows? Was there any other way to learn about the transformative power of art besides dropping acid and dancing? Did you really have to be a Deadhead to learn how to travel and meet strangers? What about the escapism, delaying adulthood, and excuses for noncommitment? Since the author takes us past the scene and into his adult life there are things I'd like to know besides how many beers it takes for him to be able to dance in public as an adult. I want to know why he finally settled down. Why he finally cut his hair. Why he stopped tripping and started showering. The Dead show portion of his life needs to have some purpose, there needs to be some insight and life lessons learned in order for this to not just be another stereotypical story about middle class white kids acting poor. The real story would be how he finally grew up, what pieces of the Dead show experience contributed to that, and what he now passes along as a father and husband. What did he learn? What's the carry-over to his adult life? How does the author live the lessons of peace and acceptance in his current world? How has he re-created that love? Or was it really all just for kicks? In the end the author visits a local bar to hear a Dead cover band and has to get drunk to feel the joy. It is so disappointing that whatever he learned couldn't be felt or remembered without the inebriants.