The Third and Last is Bent My Ear
First show, First Miracle
My first Dead show. Brendan Byrne, Spring tour '88. Four friends, yet to be licensed, saved for a charter bus package. Being spring, I layered in a long sleeve with pocket. In that pocket I placed my ticket. What a ride. So much so that I mindlessly abandoned my shirt to the overhead upon arrival. Off the bus, taking in the sights, we reached for our tickets. A toast of sorts. My mistake became evident as the bus headed out of sight to points unknown.
Someone nearby overheard, stopped the next car, and explained the situation. Their reply, "Hop on in, kid!". An unbelievable offering of kindness. An hour later and an hour to the show, the bus remained elusive. I offered what I had to give but they wouldn’t accept. I took what I had and started to walk the lot. Finger raised high.
With the first set started, I eventually meandered up to the arena. Chatting with another outsider, a man approached. He stated to follow him if we wanted to see the show. He walked us to a gate, talked to a guard, and we walked inside as Brent belted out "Hey Pocky Way".