The closing of Winterland started several days before New Year’s Eve for me. Five friends and I drove to San Diego for two nights of shows at Golden Hall. The entire trip was fraught with interpersonal issues with which I won’t bore anyone, relationships forming, un-forming, and reforming. Funny how often I look back at what were tremendously historic moments, and can’t remember much at the time, as I was usually more focused on relationships, school or job issues.
In this case, for once at least, I was well aware I was participating in something historic. Winterland closing was meaningful to me personally as well, I lived in the Haight at the time, and Winterland was my spiritual home. I was incredibly sad to lose it. But I knew Bill Graham would do his best to make it a memorable evening, and I was not disappointed. As I’ve said many times since, that night was one of the few times in my life I was absolutely certain I was in the right place at the right time.
Anyway, Dan Aykroyd came out while we were waiting in line for the show, burned one with us, and tried on Bill’s cone. Aykroyd really liked it, said it was much lighter and better fitting than the ones they used on the show. Bill was pretty tickled.
After everything we had gone through to get tickets and be there, and all the waiting in line, it felt tremendous to finally BE there, sitting in Winterland, waiting for it all to start. A friend of ours, Bill Coles (aka King Cone), made the cone heads. Bill was an amazing craftsman, he worked in a prosthetics shop, making cool cutting-edge artificial limbs. The cone heads were made out of some sort of artificial skin they used to cover prosthetic legs. The day it arrived in his shop, Bill immediately saw the potential.
I got the first one, in fact. Bill came to my place one day with a prototype. “Here,” he said, “this stuff shrinks to fit with heat. So, you just need to put this on, and let me shoot a blowtorch at your head for a few minutes.” Sometimes, I’m amazed I survived those days.
Anyway, Dan Aykroyd came out while we were waiting in line for the show, burned one with us, and tried on Bill’s cone. Aykroyd really liked it, said it was much lighter and better fitting than the ones they used on the show. Bill was pretty tickled. I remember walking around in my own cone during a break in the show later and hearing some guy comment to his buddy, “I bet she gives amazing head.” I wanted to smack him, but I was too busy laughing.
After a very fun day in line, they let us in. My own group of about 20 quickly secured front row seats in the balcony. T.W. Ryan, hung the “1535 days since last SF Dark Star” banner he and Scott Francis had created together. We were all hoping the days of updating the numbers for every show, and repeated requests for a Dark Star, might finally be rewarded that night.
Uncle Bobo had things set up with his usual style. Huge piles of New Year’s hats and noisemakers waited for us in the lobby. Giant bags of balloons hung from the ceiling, ready to drop at midnight. There were cartoons showing on a big screen over the stage (including the Sunshine Makers, one of my personal favorites.) Those segued into even more fun clips with lots of funny bits by Franken and Davis. I loved Tom Davis interviewing Jerry Garcia about his holiday baking. Jerry was such a good sport about that sort of thing, obviously a bit embarrassed, but gamely carrying on.
At one point, I wandered around visiting with folks, enjoying all the decorations and the incredible energy in the hall. I remember coming back to sit down, and finding that everyone had rearranged all the seats, had moved me out of my carefully chosen aisle seat, and placed me between a former boyfriend and a soon to be new boyfriend, taking fiendish pleasure in watching me settle uncomfortably in the hot seat.
Fortunately, it was much too wild of a night to worry much about who was sitting next to whom. The Blues Brothers were absolutely fabulous. This was a dream come true for me. I was a huge fan of Duck Dunn and Steve Cropper, not to mention Belushi and Aykroyd. I wriggled my way up to the front and watched in rapt happiness as Belushi did his cartwheels across the stage. It was a wonderful, timeless, amazing set!
Then there was the endless break. The lights came back up, and those of us who were well embarked on their trip for the night, attempted normal conversations, impatiently waiting for the lights to go out and the music to start again. I especially remember trying to talk to a good friend, but being distracted by what appeared to be strange creatures slithering out of his nose. But then, at last, the Grateful Dead started to play. And from that moment on, it was rather like being strapped to the nose cone of a missile. Lots of memories of that, but few I could convey adequately. It was an absolutely glorious show.
I’ll never forget when they broke into Dark Star though – THAT involved happy screams and even a few tears of joy. Others may recollect it differently, but when the band went into the unmistakable opening strains of Dark Star, I remember T.W. Ryan quietly going over to the Dark Star banner and cutting it loose, it’s purpose having been served.
Sitting there looking out from the Olympian heights at the beautiful Bay Area on a gorgeous sunny New Year’s morning, the entire world looked so beautiful, sparkling and new, so full of possibilities.
And then, at last, it was over. We sat there stupefied and blinking. Not at all ready to leave the womb-like wonderfulness of Winterland for the last time. I finally managed to leave my seat, and wandered around for a bit on the floor, wading through debris, laughing at folks who were even more confused than I was, including a semi-naked pair still happily coupling on the floor, apparently unaware the show was over. Finally, the blue-coats began walking around, gently reminding us that “you don’t have to go home – but you can’t stay here”.
But as always, Uncle Bobo had us covered, even at the end. We were handed a lovely white bag containing breakfast on the way out. The ubiquitous apple, and a lovely cream cheese pastry from Fat Apple’s in Berkeley. It was the first thing I’d attempted all night that obligingly acted like food, and was absolutely delicious. I staggered out blinking into the dawn, into the gritty reality of Steiner Street. I was absolutely not ready to go home, so gathered a handful of friends, and we drove to the top of Mt. Tamalpias.
Sitting there looking out from the Olympian heights at the beautiful Bay Area on a gorgeous sunny New Year’s morning, the entire world looked so beautiful, sparkling and new, so full of possibilities. We all enjoyed a group hug and congratulated ourselves for having been part of such an amazing event. Then we went in search of much needed coffee!
~ Kathleen Clark