(At my grandma's house. Somewhere in 1995)
Wild and free in my Grateful Dead T. Hemp necklace and bracelets, hippie rings on my fingers and a dancing bears faux tattoo on my ankle. I remember her. She lives inside me still. Every now and then she comes out to play.
The shirt is long gone. A new one in its place. The necklace and bracelets and rings lost to time. The tattoo permanent on my arm instead, in honor of my momma Diana Kaye. I turn my head to the left and the dancing bears greet me carried in a butterfly's wings and her name along the edges. Pieces of a past life.
The Grateful Dead and me
My first core memory is from a Dead show that I attended when I was very small. I’d had a red balloon tied to my wrist that slipped away, I watched it float into the sky. A woman next to me was dancing and she saw the loss, she happened to have a red rose Mylar balloon and gave it to me. I was happy.
I was born to hippie musical parents, my dad was a drummer and my mom a singer. They were in a band together in the 70s called Vegas Wash- my mom front and center, dad behind the guitarist.
(Vegas Wash 1975)
(Mom and Dad wedding day September 12, 1976? 77?)
I used to fall asleep to the sound of my dad's drumming. Like a heartbeat. Music is in my blood.
They loved the Dead and carted me around with them to all the shows whenever they came to town. Inevitably I fell in love with the band too. I loved the community of Deadheads and the way the music brought us all together. I was at the last show played here in Vegas right before Jerry Garcia died. I thought the music died when he did.
*It just now dawned on me that I lost my dad the same year as we all lost Jerry. It only took me 29 years to make the connection.*
The Music Never Stopped
My love of the Dead has never faded. I listen to them every day and I’m reminded of ties that bind. Sometimes I can hear my mom's voice harmonizing with mine as I sing out loud. In my minds eye I can see my dad’s hands moving to the beat of Mickey Hart’s drums. Music conjures magic.
For a long time I believed the Dead was dead and gone. Even though the Further tour arrived, I just couldn't get myself to believe in the magic again. I was afraid to lose it. Then came The Dead & Co, with John Mayer in front with Bobby Weir. I blew it off and was actually upset by it for a time. A pop star frontman for the Dead?!
And then one day I saw a video of him playing with them and singing with them and I knew. The music had never stopped, it found its way into something old and new.
Over the years i’ve kept an eye out for the tours they went on, none ever came to a city close to me. And then last year they announced it was the end of touring for them. I tried to snag tickets for the final show in San Francisco, back to where it all began, but they were outrageous prices. And so my dream died all over again.
The year of magic
2024 is the year I have made magic happen. I made promises to myself at the beginning of the year. Not resolutions, promises to be fulfilled. I am done waiting for things. I'm not nicknamed Magical Mesa for nothing.
I didn't plan anything out, I just thought to myself that when the opportunity comes i’ll take it. Without any idea of what that meant, I just knew that I wanted more of the things that light me up. And then the opportunities came. Including the Dead and Co announcing a residency in my city. Magic made real.
(Me and my husband, 6/1, Dead & Co at the Sphere)
On June 1, with my husband by my side and his mom and her dude next to us, I was once again shrouded in musical magic. Surrounded by Deadheads, all of us singing and swaying and cheering for our favorite songs. The visuals were out of this world, literally we were transported to Haight Ashbury in San Francisco and then rose straight up into the universe. And I was once again given permission to be.
Breadcrumbs back to myself
I'm so grateful for the ability to look back on my life and see myself clearly. I'm sometimes fuzzy on the exactness, but I can always see me and remember the feelings. I look back to bring myself forward.
I get lost sometimes in the day to day struggles and stresses. I lose myself in worry about life. But when I get quiet and I tune out the noise of it all, I remember. I am part of something bigger, I am not solely my job, my titles, my roles, I am Magical Mesa. I come back to the girl who didn't believe in fairytales, but believed in herself.
I’ve left breadcrumbs on my path, little pieces for now me to pick up from past me. Leading me back to myself.
What about you dear reader friend- do you ever get lost? Do you have breadcrumbs back to yourself too? Share with me won’t you?!
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Mesa, you and I on the synchronicity train is something I cannot ignore!! Can we do a deadhead subscriber chat so I can show you a pic of little deadhead Cassidy?!
Magical Mesa! You made me wax nostalgic! My song with my dad was Mickey’s Monkeys by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles. We would sing it together and I would bounce around—happy and free. I still have his old 45 record. Every so often I hear it on the radio and I know he’s around me!
He then bought me my first 45–The Candy Man by Sammy Davis Jr.
My love of music is my tie to him to this day—he died when I was five and he’s been gone 50 years.
Makes my heart happy to feel those happy times with him.
Thank you for sharing your gift and memories.
You helped me breadcrumb back to that innocent little girl who had two parents and before she would experience one of the greatest losses so young.