In two days that sent shockwaves through the spine of what’s now become the biggest event of the year, the same people that have been cured of their porn addictions spent equal amounts of time exercising their frustrations in front of computers. It seems like most of us had as good of a chance banging a porn star as we did getting through on CID or Ticketmaster’s websites. Young heart throbs, One Direction’s previous Ticketmaster record was sent in one direction, down the ladder and replaced by the resurrected Kings of Music as epic numbers of people hit the ticketing sites with every electronic device in their household, all with 10 browsers open. According to authorities within Ticketmaster, the site has received more hits than any site in the history of the world. For the first time since Frank Sinatra, it’s really cool to be old again.

Reports of widespread vertigo followed a day filled with staring at more rotating balls than a participant in a naked Twister tournament. As I write, I still feel like I’m spinning. According to Ticketmaster Time, and teenagers stories of screwing, 3 minutes lasts nearly an hour. For many of us, victory seemed certain until our suspense filled wait returned nothing but an error message as “The Final Four” broke the internet for the third time since January (as a life long Yankee fan I refuse to call them the Core Four).

In a matter of minutes, screen shots from successfully completed orders flooded Dead related sites and for approximately 30 minutes outnumbered those that were complaining. This was another first in the history of the internet. It was also interesting that many people who posted their emails from GDTS TOO, already guaranteeing them tickets, also posted pictures of their successful orders on Ticketmaster. Why were they on there in the first place? To secure tickets for “Family” right? This is the time when everyone that’s talked about cash grabs, StubHub and kindness will be put to the test. Many of you reading this will use the multiple extras to fund your trip and feed your own cash jones. You’ll talk at length about kindness and scalpers and the band being greedy but your extra tickets are already on StubHub. You know who you are. Nobody else might know, but you do. Here’s a suggestion for you, just keep your mouth shut and refrain from all posts regarding scalpers or the band’s and promoter’s financial interests. These are the times when that mirror of self analysis and discovery might show you somebody you’d rather not see. I hope you still don’t use psychedelics because you’ll be tormented by your own decisions during the shows and you’ll feel as though everyone around you can see right through you. You can hide from message board exposure perhaps but what The Dead taught us is that you can’t hide from yourself. Have fun with that…

While many complained feverishly about ticket prices and packages other purchased them just as feverishly. Many posts about the cost of tickets 20 or more years ago reminded me that the best product in the history of live music basically gave themselves away to us for the first 30 years. In my opinion, spending less than $3,000 on a package to be part of an entire weekend celebrating something that has given me more joy in life than anything other than my kids and sharing in this historic moment in musical history is a very small price to pay. It’s become clear to me that the biggest problem our community has suffered with for a long time is the disease of mental poverty and the idea that everything should be given to them. The idea that anybody that has achieved anything in life or makes a respectable living is somehow not a “Real Dead Head”. The thought that because someone can’t afford this trip at this time in their life, that everything about the trip or those that can is wrong, is simply ridiculous. People that cry about money will always cry about money regardless of how much or how little they have. Most of them will never have much because they always see it as a problem and after all, who wants more problems? For decades the mark up on drugs, T-Shirts and grilled cheese sandwiches has been pretty high. I guess “Real Dead Heads” are just all about a cash grab. Those that are truly in a place of need, I’m sorry and I sincerely wish I could make it all better for you. Unfortunately, me having less will never provide you with more. This event, to me, is well worth the considerable sacrifice in time and money I’ll be making in order to be there. I have no problem contributing generously to the community that enriched my life far beyond my ability to repay. If we had to pay for everything the Grateful Dead have given us in life, NONE of us would be able to pay it back. This band owes me absolutely NOTHING and I’m forever in debt to them…

The purpose of this week in review is to reach out and give all of you a gigantic virtual hug. I’m as happy for those that have acquired tickets as I am sad for those that haven’t yet. This reminds me a lot of what brought me so deep into the Grateful Dead experience in the first place. The ability to experience such a wide range of intense emotions. Some rise… Some fall… Some climb…

Within the context of a single show we laughed and experienced moments of intense ecstasy. We sat stripped of our egos looking at our own souls and cried from deep within our hearts during other moments within the same show. We expressed incredible joy in the midst of a Scarlet-> Fire jam and found ourselves in a puddle of our own tears during the Wharf Rat an hour later as the syrupy sweet harmonies of “I knoooow that the Liiiiiiiiiiiiiife I’m living’s noooooo good” blasted through us to our core and shook any wayward fragments from our foundations. It was easy to look around you and see thousands of others being stripped of their bullshit along with you. Those that came around long and often enough to become clear and solid enough on the inside found pure bliss knowing they were free from the need to get up and fly away yet could, just for the sake of it, if they choose to do so. They weren’t now in this position to judge those that hadn’t got there yet. They were there to be compassionate and supportive of the process they already passed through and to love and nurture those that were where they used to be. You did this knowing you could return to the side of the equation requiring compassion and support at any time through the inevitable trials of life. That kind of compassion isn’t supposed to be based on whether or not we get our way or things turn out in our favor but simply because we choose that as a way of life regardless of the perceived short term outcome.

I think we all actually enjoy or at least recognize the immense value and potential for growth in the entire emotional spectrum. Within our lives with the Dead we were able to experience all of them intensely but within the confines of an event that would limit how long most of those emotions would linger.  After we were usually left raw and emotionally dismantled from a Garcia ballad, Weir tunes as show closers typically allowed us to leave with a bright outlook for our future. It was a 3 hour sermon on life that usually ended with a message of hope.

I’ll admit I was extremely wrong about the demand surrounding this event. I thought Soldier Field was big enough that there would be free tickets in the parking lot. Furthur played for years and wouldn’t come close to selling out Soldier Field. I sure was terribly wrong. There was no way for anyone involved to predict what this has become. If so, they just would’ve rented the state of Kansas for the weekend. Looking for people, places and things to blame for problems, never in history, has solved a single problem. Living to be a blessing to others has solved many of them. As mail order confirmations overlapped with online sales, there’s going to be A LOT of people with extra tickets. Will you be one of the people that rationalizes your way to StubHub citing mama’s health crisis or fabricating some other tragedy as your reason to do so? I hope not…
Will the way you live cause one of those people with extras to want to give you one? I hope so…

As a Dead Head that got a haircut a couple of decades ago, I’m always amused at all the kind “Real Dead Heads” in full Guatemalan camo and dreads, that see me at the Cap for a Phil show or wherever I may be and find me to be the ideal candidate to scalp their extra to. They seem to be looking for somebody clean enough to feel comfortable scalping. I love when they offer to “Hook me up” brah. Apparently I’m too clean looking to be a “Real Dead Head”. When I began to speak their language and question them on their behavior, they instantly began to look like a dog that shit in the living room. Ears back and struggling with eye contact, feeling guilty… In the months ahead, don’t find yourself looking like a dog that shit in the living room…

Love you all…
Gratefully Deadicated,
Dean Sottile (pronounced SoTilly)

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