The Ripple In the
Still Water of My Mind
Dave Baum (at least
that’s what people called me in my early 20’s)
I’ve been asking people for the last two weeks: what’s priceless and free at the same
time. The purpose of the question
was an idea I had on vacation, and it became a sermon I wrote, but I was so
moved by the responses I received.
Perhaps the most profound and thought provoking response I received was
memory, the power or process of reproducing or recalling what has been learned,
retained, and/or experienced. The
first words, learned and retained, were found in a dictionary, but I added that
last one: experienced.
As the Grateful Dead played their last shows, fans all over
the world could listen and watch, in a movie theater, or in comfort of their
own homes, and be a part of the magic of the Dead, live. Actually, the Dead Heads, the devoted
fans of the Grateful Dead, might have been the innovators of this concept. They tried to contain memories in a
bottle, so moved by the music; they started taping songs at live shows and
spreading them throughout the ‘community’.
I remember the first bootleg tape I had ever received at age
of fifteen. It was an unusual
cassette tape for the time – grey and hard plastic, with no markings on it, no
information as to when and where the music came from. There was no Shazaam back then, and the internet was in its
infancy, so trying to find the origins of the show was impossible.
The tape is long gone, lost, but I hold with me, in my
memories, a couple of the songs (in random order): Bird Song; Cold Rain and Snow; Dire Wolf; Deep Ellem
Blues…Ripple.
The cassette tape is empty when it begins, it is created like any other
tape, indistinguishable from the next, until it is imprinted with an
experience…
As I think about that tape, I think back to the times I was
driving at 16, blasting these tunes, the melodies and lyrics growing on me with
each ride, with the windows down and sunroof open, the wind blowing through my
hair (when I had it), touching my face, in my 1990 Gold Volvo (incidentally, my
friends named it the Baum Bus we would always pack as many people in as
possible).
Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow
Today, I’m delving back into the priceless but free – my
memories of this glorious music. I
enter back into the shows I attended, where the music was once played. The ripple in the still water of my
mind– the memories rush back.
There’s nothing like going to a ‘show’, especially with
people you love. My favorite shows
have been with my brother. We stood
in the crowd, listening and moving to the music, guessing, pondering, with each
pluck of guitar, or sound of the drum;
waiting with anticipation to hear what is going to play
next.
I am now at Camp Ramah Darom, a place steeped in memories of
my young adulthood, when the songs of the Grateful Dead were always with
me. As I travel to different
places, the memories long gone flood back.
The ripple in the still water of my mind– they are truly priceless, and
they are always there, sometimes buried, sometimes present, but always there
waiting for me.
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