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Blog Entry 44 of 82 Baseball,football,the Grateful Dead,Jesus and me
Could be politics, religion, music, sports, family life or anything in-between and outside the lines. (I refuse to say "outside the box," even if my chosen line means exactly the same thing) Chronologically, I'm 40. The consensus among those who know me best puts me somewhere between 10 and 13 in terms of maturity. I love listening to Jimmy Buffett, the Grateful Dead, the Allman Brothers and all acts Country (except the Dixie Chicks who offended my long-held,closed-minded view of decent behavior) I have deep, strong beliefs in all things I believe in and sometimes in things I don't. I pride myself in my contradictory nature even though it is a sign of weakness to change one's mind. I have been known to waver more than John Kerry talking about national defense, though I remain steadfast in my beliefs. I am prepared to argue to the death on one issue and one issue alone; Dickey Betts should be allowed back in the Allman Brothers. On this, there is no compromise. I believe in compromise in all other areas so long as the compromise includes everything that I want or believe in. In all seriousness, I am a lucky man, blessed with a wonderful family and an uncanny ability to not care about anything if the situation requires such. I believe that minds are like parachutes in that they have been known to fail their user, albeit with a slightly lower fatality rate. So that's me, or at least that's kind of me. I mean, I felt that way right before I didn't.

Lady With A Fan
Contributed by: Bill Prather   on 10/17/2007

Let my inspiration flow,
in token rhyme, suggesting rhythm,
That will not forsake me
till my tale is told and done.

Terrapin Station, Grateful Dead



Jenny. She's my "Lady With A Fan." For those not familiar (and I pity you) "Lady With A Fan" is a chapter in the Grateful Dead song, Terrapin Station. Before you click-off of this blog in anger (or ignorance) hear me out!

Not all Deadheads are the wasted, acid-tripping, non-shaving, barefoot freaks that some would have you believe. (Although, there's something sexy about a barefoot girl, and I only shave because I have to) In fact, that sterotype is the exception, rather than the rule. Case in point, my daughter's orthopaedic surgeon is a "True-Blue" Deadhead. True, that! I've seen him at many Dead-type shows at Red Rocks. When we have an appointment at Childrens,' Hospital, there's Dr. Frank, asking Delaney how she enjoyed the show! Yes, I take my kids! Always have. Got a problem with that? Then you don't know the Dead.

So, please, drop the stereotypes! I like to think that my son, Marty is quite lucky because I took him to a show and he heard "Dark Star" shortly after his second birthday! Sure, Jerry was long gone but it was the "Dead" and they did Dark Star and Marty was there! You don't have to understand, or even like it. I just ask that you drop the judgment of me and mine until you've met us. Four years ago, most of you wouldn't have had the nerve, I'm sure. My hair passed my belt and my beard rivaled ZZ Top.

As silly as it may sound, we're Deadheads and Jenny & I might never have met if it weren't for our shared love of the Grateful Dead. Laugh, if you must, but if you do, I say, you're missing something.

Delaney, the "disabled" girl who brings joy to all who know her . . . Marty, the boy who loves unconditionally and wants so badly to share his good times with others, and Malia, who is just . . . six weeks old and a joy to behold . . .

None would be here if I hadn't stopped in at Quixote's True Blue Cafe, looking for a cold beer and a warm place. I found it, and more.

Indulge me, I'll probably bore you.

One night, I sat in my usual spot (Phil even offered to toss anyone who dared sit in my seat in the corner) but for some reason, that night I moved to a place more towards middle of the bar.

I watched as an innocent-looking, very drunk, beautiful girl took "my" spot. Apparently, she knew I was watching. More likely, in her drunken stupor, her eyes bounced right past me. I felt good about it. I was probably more drunk than she was.

Occasionally, this wonderful, drunken angel, sent to save me, managed to lift her head from the bar to look around. (Did I mention that I might have been drinking heavily that night?)

I had noticed that she had come in with some louse who fancied himself quite the man. Sure. Quite the five-foot-nothing man who was hitting on anything that moved. Jerk. She deserved better.

I asked Phil, my friend the bartender about the "cute, drunk, passed-out girl" in the corner. Phil laughed. "She just turned 21," he said. "She's with him," he motioned.

"You mean the idiot who's getting shot down by all the ladies in here?" (That's really hard to do in a Dead bar!)

"That's the a#$%ole!" Phil said.

I responded, "Well, he doesn't deserve her. When she sobers up, I'm going to take her from him, and on top of that, we're going to go out for awhile. Hell, we might even get married!" That was the Bud talking, I admit.

"Keep dreaming," Phil said.

One year later, I recounted that story at our wedding. Almost ten years after (No pun intended) I'm still dreaming, I guess.

I don't expect everyone to get it. But if you're in love, I think you can. It doesn't matter who you are, there's some song or poem or book or movie, or something that you can relate to your present relationship. Mine just happens to involve the Grateful Dead.

Long before I met Jenny, I told people that someday I would meet my "Lady WithA Fan." Even some Deadheads thought I was crazy.

But you know what? When I met Jenny, I told her (yes, I was probably not all together) that I would someday meet my "Lady With A Fan." She didn't laugh. At least not to my face.

It turned out that Jenny was my Lady. Is it really the song/fantasy coming true? Nah, probably not. Was it anything other than a stupid, drunk guy who happend to meet his soulmate who indulged his drunken fantasies? Probably not. But so what? I'm pretty damn happy and I dare say that Jenny is to this day, at least tolerating things.

Eyes alight with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair,
She takes her fan and throws it . . .
in the lion's den.

Which of you to gain me, tell,
will risk uncertain pains of Hell?
I will not forgive you,
if you will not take the chance.

Guess I took the chance. "Strategy was my strength, not disaster."

Jennifer is my "Lady With A Fan." I'm very happy with that.

I'm also very much in love with Jenny and our family.

Inspiration, indeed!



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Showing 1-5 of 5 comments
Submitted By: Bill Prather
posted on 10/25/2007 @ 12:20:57 AM
Rated Blog Entry
Sorry, I hit the damn stars again. Sometimes I get lost in the moment. Gave myself a one for my stupidity. Jamie, my son, now 15, used to sing, "Driving that train, Conocacane . . ." I never corrected him.
Submitted By: Jamie VanEaton
posted on 10/24/2007 @ 8:48:00 AM
Rated Blog Entry
I liked their song about Casey Jones. I still sing it, although in the terse moments where the word for the illicit drugs has to be mentioned I try to slur. Driving the train, high on "Spo-kane" just isn't selling.
Submitted By: Nikki Britain
posted on 10/19/2007 @ 10:42:40 AM
Rated Blog Entry
I saw the Dead play Golden Gate Park in SF back when I was in college! It was great!!
Submitted By: Michael Rule
posted on 10/18/2007 @ 9:02:23 PM
Rated Blog Entry
I once stood in line at a Warren Zevon concert in Boulder behind Jerry Garcia. He had on a W.Zevon t-shirt. That's my Grateful Dead story. tolerance is a great quality in a partner. LOL
Submitted By: Gladys Mercier
posted on 10/17/2007 @ 7:25:28 PM
Rated Blog Entry
Really nice love story. Stay happy.
Showing 1-5 of 5 comments
CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Bill Prather

Arvada , CO

Bill Prather has posted 82 blog entries and 328 comments since joining on 7/15/2006. Bill Prather 's average blog rating is 4.45.
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