Gina's story about getting all smoked up seond hand, reminds me of the
first Doobs show I ever saw, at Barton Hall at Cornell. It was either 78
or 79. I was sitting in the back of the auditorium, about half way up
the bleacher seats. You could hardly see the stage for the reefer smoke.
And then Hartman starts beating this enormous gong with flaming mallets,
and fireworks are going off from the stage. Man, it was something to
behold.
Now I should mention this was also the first rock concert I had EVER
gone to. Quite a memorable experience.
And then the next day I dragged myself out of bed and went down to the
airport (it's a small airport) and parked in the East Hill Flying Club
parking lot, and there, just on the other side of the fence, was the
DoobieLiner. I hung out and watched the guys drive up in the limo, and
go through the terminal, and go out to the plane. I was hoping they'd
come over by the fence, and maybe I'd get to meet them. No such luck
that day. If I'd only known what was down the road...
--
Hearin' Their Tunes Always Has A Way
Of Soothin' Out My Soul
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\_____________________/ / \ _\____________________/
\___________________/ /______\ \____________________/
Cause Times Are Hard And Work Is Slow,
But Their Music Keeps Me Whole
