Life lessons on two wheels to the tunes of the
Grateful Dead
Robert Hall Weir, né Parber,
October 16, 1947 – January 10, 2026
Let the words be yours, I’m done with mine.
I first saw Bob Weir on October 19, 1974 with the Grateful Dead at Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco. I last saw Bob Weir on June 14, 2024 as a member of Dead & Company at The Sphere in Las Vegas. Over the course of almost 50 years, it was my privilege to see Bobby perform countless times as a member of the Grateful Dead, Kingfish, Ratdog, the Other Ones, The Dead, Furthur, Dead & Company, the Weir Robinson & Greene Acoustic Trio, and probably others that I have failed to remember.
Other Posts
This Week in Grateful Dead History: Week 20 - May 11, 1977
If ever I return
With all of the attention given to the Boston/Ithaca/Buffalo trilogy of shows, it’s easy to overlook some of the other gems of the Spring ’77 tour. During the week of May 11, Deadheads were treated to 5 wonderful shows by “Uncle John’s Band,” playing by the riversides (or lake, as the case may be) in the Midwest cities of St. Paul, Chicago and St. Louis, before heading south to Tuscaloosa, Alabama. While every show this week was first-rate, the May 11 show in St. Paul shines above the rest in T.W.I.G.D.H. (This Week In Grateful Dead History).
This Week in Grateful Dead History: Week 52 – December 27, 1987
The kids they dance and shake their bones
The enduring and ever-increasing popularity of the Grateful Dead – even more than a quarter century after their last concert on July 9, 1995 – has often been attributed to the prominent role the band played in the anti-establishment movement of the ’60s. As the icon of a new generation that represented an alternative to the greed and corruption of the mainstream culture, the Dead truly were “a band beyond description.”
This Week in Grateful Dead History: Week 41 – October 11, 1980
Ripple in still water
After 3 years at a high school in Anaheim, CA and 2 years at UCLA, my life had become as stagnant as the bumper-to-bumper traffic I found myself sitting in on the Santa Ana freeway during the fall of ’74, while waiting for my transfer to UC Santa Cruz to come through. Even against a backdrop of inexperience during the waning months of my teenage years, I had learned enough to allow intuition to lead the way in making my first big grownup decision: moving from Southern to Northern California. There is no way I could have anticipated the ripples this life-changing shift would create that are still being felt decades down the road.
All Material Copyright 2020, 2021, 2022 and 2023 by Stewart Sallo