Fare Thee Well

Robert Hunter, Grateful Dead lyricist, died this morning at 78. He and Jerry Garcia pretty much wrote the soundtrack of our lives, beginning, for us, in August 1972 in Veneta. He was one of America’s greatest poets, a storyteller, balladeer, even a troubadour in the oldest sense. 

Sometimes when writing a blip caption, it's hard to think of one sentence to write; other times, like this, I could write a book. I will be the first to say that the music of the Grateful Dead is an acquired taste, but after the long jams, the "Drums and Space," the out there weirdness of the scene, what remains are the lyrics, the poetry of Hunter. This subject is too vast to convey within one blip, so I think I will feature a lyric to tag to upcoming blips, and leave the first verse of what he considered his finest song, "Ripple":

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine,
If my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come through the music,
Would you hold it near, as it were your own?