the sounds

bwomp!...

to what to mine glorious ears doth appear or sound to the sound of tha madre su padre sound , but thine glorious twang of the Greateful Fargin Dead....I can't explain it.....97 plus pure breada and 5 dozen sidewanders, more mescalin than Panama Reds horse , a lifetime at the age of 45 of tracking, trailin and payin Homage tone Jerome Kahn Garcia, these are the Kats we both feared and pursued like Kerouacs shrouded terrorists acrosss the desert, so much b4 and yet so prophetic...I studied the masteer Keerouac and smehow did not learn about the arabic menace that which Te Jean Kerouac warned.

But in the darkness of winter ...on the cuspid of SPRANG...miss Donna Jean GODchaeux announces to one and all that it is over, we'll see summer come again./.......unless you spent a signficant portion of your life followin these cats, unless you surrendered a significant portion of yur brain to hallucinigenics , the mighty mushroom, or street acid, i don't think your eyes will well with tears or your spine tingle when you hear that fist base chord BWOMP....i love to write, and if the GODS that be ever wish for me to tell tales they will grant me time, and maybe in a sardine can of nonsense I will summ up the GD experience....or at least my lil sliver of it....97 shows ,,,,we live, we love, we learn, ....I miss MY Grateful Dead, I hope to reunite in the motherland,