Reserve your copy of the latest addition to the library of baseball literature.
by Stew Sallo, author of “The Deadhead Cyclist.”
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 43 – October 25, 1979
Maybe the dark is from your eyes
There are few opening chords in the Grateful Dead repertoire as recognizable, or as welcome, as the sustained, and then repeated, D-minor of Shakedown Street. Often positioned as the first song of the set, the tune never failed to evoke an amplified sense of excitement, especially as the crowd began to anticipate the extended, often brilliant instrumental jam to follow the final recitation of the mantra, “You just gotta poke around.” Among the many fine versions of this anthemic piece, there are few that rank higher than the one performed on 10/25/79 at Veterans Memorial Coliseum in New Haven, CT, the Deadhead Cyclist’s pick for T.W.I.G.D.H.
This Week in Grateful Dead History: Week 16 - April 12, 1978
Is there anything a man don’t stand to lose
I was first exposed to bigotry at the age of five when my family unwittingly became the only Jewish residents of what proved to be a passionately anti-Semitic neighborhood in St. Louis Park, Minnesota, a suburb of Minneapolis. The year was 1960, and the hateful echoes of the Holocaust were still plainly audible, particularly among the already settled Scandinavian and Protestant Anglo-Saxon population, which made no effort to conceal their displeasure at the significant influx of Jewish families to the Twin Cities.
This Week in Grateful Dead History: Week 21 - May 22, 1977
My time coming
During the ’70s, a member of the Grateful Dead family, Dick Latvala, heard “them voices,” and began collecting recordings of Grateful Dead shows. But unlike the rest of us Deadheads who built private stashes of concert tapes as a hobby, Latvala felt compelled to make a career of it. He maintained a catalogue of his ever-growing collection that went far beyond the set list, including such details as the date and venue, who made the recording, what equipment was used, and extensive personal critiques of the performances.
All Material Copyright 2020, 2021, 2022 and 2023 by Stewart Sallo