To begin with a cliché: It's the end of an era. The passing of the torch. We thought the Phil & Friends shows with Trey and Page at The Warfield in April of 1999 were the passing of the Jamband torch. It sure felt like it all these years. But suddenly the poster hanging on our music room wall doesn't seem important to me. I'm not feely antsy because I need two more autographs on it to complete all the players from that stunning run. It just doesn't seem like an important historical museum piece anymore. These two weekends will be the ones for the record books.

So why am I about to watch the webcast with just one guest? Sure, the wife is off at work. But no less than nine Deadhead and/or Phishhead friends declined to come by to get down, get funky. That's not unusual. We're all getting older. What is weird is that everyone responded that they "can't make it." Or they are going to another show. Not a one implied that they were watching the simulcast in their own shrine to electrifying, spine rattling music with a 300 watt per channel whirling nuclear turbine of a sound system (full disclosure, one of those friends is sure to watch, he just didn't say so).

The Grateful Dead is the band that started the genre we all know and love and have given countless hours of our lives to. Now they are celebrating a milestone, making an admission and putting aside their differences to do it five last times. When a great sports star retires, there is a whole season of furor leading to soaring television ratings in the star's last week. So why does this run seem to some like a collective "meh"? The vast majority of the online chatter seems to revolve around a mishandled event, lack of rehearsal and/or a cash grab by a supposedly fan-friendly promoter. But hey, when was it ever easy or cheap to see a well-played Grateful Dead concert in the last third of their career, unless you bummed around looking for miracles and hit a good night?

This weekend and next are important events in the history of Rock and Roll. The stage is primed, and leaked photos have it looking like a spectacle befitting an event of this magnitude. I for one am on the edge of my seat to see if they can pull it off. And so should we all. After all, us late Deadheads/early Phish fans are reaching that middle age where we tend to hearken back a little too much. We should enjoy the class reunion. And for the younger crowd, here's a chance to get a little of what once was. So let's reach out and take it!

Billy has said in his autobiography that fans used to take their cover of the Rolling Stones' "The Last Time" as a warning about the aging of the band, and Jerry's health in particular. I was not such a fan, and I was relieved to learn from Billy that it was simply a song they enjoyed playing. For all we know at this point, this will be the last time. So let's shake it up one more time. In a giant concrete stadium. With all our friends. With some of the Babe Ruth's of the jamming music world at bat. And with our favorite red-headed guitarist playing the part of the man who was at the center of it all for the first thirty years.

As Flounder says in Animal House: "Oh boy! IS THIS GREAT!!" Crank it up. See you in Chicago. -Phil

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