[Archive] [majorlinksl


Subj: poetry; copyright on the net; e-books
Date: Mon, Mar 25,1996
From: (Michael J. Ward)

Robert, wonderful to see your thoughts. Twenty years ago a friend handed me a sheaf of fadey xerox copies, passed down through dozens of hands and generations from the first one to listen through the crackle and record the hallowed words. Yes! The songs really did have lyrics, and here they were! Um, no royalties accrued at the time, but later we bought some songbooks.

Now we have world-wide, instant non-copyright via the Web. How is this going to work? Who will write, and struggle with the publishing process, if there is no way to get paid? No food, no write. I'm on an e-list of e-book publishers. How to publish electronically, with some way to get even something for it, is the topic of perpetual discussion and little finality. Well, I work for a company that depends on publishing and writing and documents and art and all of those good things, and I can only expect that creativity will find a way to express itself and not starve.

Not that poetry is the way to be creative and not starve. I wrote a small bit about that, and it's at the end of this note (so you can skip it if you want). The poets I know would generally be glad of a penny a web-hit. I must also suppose "Comes a Time" provides more royalties than the Rilke.

Ah, just count me a fan of yours for more than those twenty years.

Poets, On

There are jobs for two,
Maybe three, maybe four,
More in the world around,
No more in America.
(Last I heard,
They still paid poets in Russia.)

There's the Poet Laureate, whoever
He or she may be this year.
There's the Poet Laureate
Of California.
And the Anti-Poet Laureate,
Who is always Allen Ginsberg.
And then all the other poets
In the country,
Who together make as much
As an accountant in Sheboygan,
(And not a highly paid one).

And as for me,
I have a day job.


Date: Mon, Mar 25, 1996


I was reflecting on the fact that after twenty years, this medium that is at once a vast collection of twenty million people could seem more personal and accessible than a telephone.

Imagine being able to call a couple hundred thousand of your closest friends and share your most recent musings!

This is now not only a have done it! Silver Marbles is a wonderful new set of possibilities for us to explore. Thank YOU!..the opportunity to deliver your message and receive feedback that is more measured than the rush of a handshake and smalltalk, always cursed because, "I should of said..or I meant to say.."...but no less heartfelt.

In twenty plus years I never had access to you or the others. Although you could have heard my "hoots and hollers"...this "impersonal" medium has actually allowed me to express my thoughts, and all of us the opportunity to realize the enormous impact that we have on each other. Hopefully it will transcend "fanmail"! (maybe not in this case!! ha!)

It is a wonderous experience to hit the homepage and see the latest.. or the ability to chat with likeminded heads scattered around the world but brought together, not by the traveling gypsies but by our collective desire to step up to the mic and bare our soul like you have done for 30 years. Like the comet overhead..we can all look up and share the vision of the infinite timelessness that is NOW.

Yes...this is an illuminating medium that will change all of our perceptions of each other!



Mar 26, 1996 2:17 PM EDT
From: (Barbara Stoner)

Dear Robert:
I was just scanning the materials on your Web page, especially the "Fractures" section in reply to a semiotician (and I would think asemiotician would understand the power of allusion (or did I misunderstand?). From the little I've read in semiotics, it is this very power of words, the multitude of images that words and phrases evoke, ratherthan the immediate specific reference of them, that color our perceptions of the world and invest it with further meaning. All that aside, I was delighted to read the following:

>By the trope of simile, we see the bell tower
>(the day watch) turned to a lighthouse
>and the four winds become sleeping hounds,
>(the night watch) worn out by the events
>of such a metaphorical day as related
>by e.e.cummings in his familiar lyric
>"All in Green Went My Love Riding"
>"four lean hounds crouched low
>and smiling . . ."

I have danced this song countless times, and e.e. cummings has always been right there with me. "...the merry deer ran before." This song always brought out a multitude of images, and many of them are close to your own intentions. The first verse brought pictures of my daughter, my mother, my grandmother - and often rippled out from there into landscapes of faces andflowers and...(well, nevermind, you get the picture :)

I never picked up on the concept of the liberty bell, specifically - I related more to bells of all kinds -bells of gathering, bells of warning, bells of joy or bells of mourning - bells we hear in the dim distance while we are wandering, searching - bells that may eventually call us home.

Thanks for going cyber. Finally writers have a medium of their own. Acoffeehouse, you might say. I always thought writing was the hardest art for which to find an audience. A musician can sit down in a corner and play, and people can listen or not, and if the musician has something to say, there is a chance it will be heard. Graphic artists can put something on the wall, plastic artists can put something on the table. It's there to be seen and related to or ignored. A writer (and I'm sure you've had to do
this, and have had it done to you) has to shove a sheaf of papers into someone's hand and say here, read this. And that someone so seldom wants to do that. We have to insist on their initial involvement. You can't leave the stuff laying around. It won't get picked up and read. Actually, I've had stuff picked up and read and then had the person apologize to me for intruding on my privacy. Ah, well. Here on the net, we can leave it laying around - and it just might get read - and you just might get some feedback.

Looking forward to whatever you have to say next.


Barbara Stoner
Seattle, WA

Mar 29, 1996

Robert: you wrote: Metaphoric construction in lyric should be like lost wax casting. The mold is melted away in shaping the object; its pertinence is only procedural. Yes. The mold is made from known materials, and what emerges resembles what was done with those materials, but is in itself something entirely new. The "mother's face" metaphor works here, too. I could go on and on, but I won't. :)
Two things on my mind this morning. First of all, I want to thank you for "The Days Between." I asked our mutual friend, Richard Brender, once to relay the message that another one of those crazy Deadheads wanted to say thanks for that song. Knowing Richard, I'm sure he demurred from passing along messages from crazy Deadheads, even good buddy ones, so I absolve him of responsibility and do it myself. There is a such tumult of images in that song - "shimmer of the moon" - "black infested trees"; "the singing man", "the reckless" - it is a song about a journey, encompasing pain and love, hope and despair - a life journey - a journey that was and is worth the trip! I'm 53, six months younger than Jerry, and when I first heard this song, I had this fantasy that if my family and friends could hear it, they would understand instantly what my life has been about, and maybe what their's has been also. Well, fantasies are sometimes just that. But I can't think of any better summation of what *our* whole venture has been about, and I just wanted to say thanks. *** Thought 2: Listening yesterday to Paul Simon's "Concert in the Park" CD, and to "Graceland", one of my favorite cuts on that album, I found myself thinking about "Terrapin Station", and how similar those songs are. "I'm going to Graceland, Graceland..." "to get to Terrapin...". Two more songs about metaphoric journeys. One seems to be a journey to familiar territory - to roots, to history; the other is to a place unknown as yet, the future, perhaps, or to another incompletely known place, the interior, the core - the place where universe and self meet and know one another. Enough said for now. The mundane world of dishes is calling me. Have a great weekend.

Barbara Stoner

Mar 26, 1996 From:
Dear Mr. Hunter-- I am *so* glad to see you up on the web. Glad to see your response to the Jurgen Fauth essay, which is posted on my web site, The Annotated Grateful Dead Lyrics. I assume that means you've had a chance to look at the site, and of course I've been highly trepidatious for months now wondering what your opinion would be of my efforts. So, if you'd like to comment, rage, or rail, go right ahead! My intention all along has been to respect your wishes in regard to interpretation, and to limit what I do to pretty traditional scholarly footnoting (or not-so-scholarly...). Anyway, congrats again on putting some content into the GD web site. Best, David _______________________________________________________________________
David Dodd, Assistant Professor, Library / Cataloger & Archivist Univ. of Colorado at Colorado Springs / World Wide Web: (719) 593-3289 ; / "Every day, David had to decide whether to use his incredible cataloging powers for good or for evil."

Mar 27, 1996
Subj: Nor yet would I deny
From: (David Dodd)

Dear Robert,

Thank you very much for your kind reply. I can see how one would be very ambivalent to being historicized while still at the peak of one's powers and work, and I very much appreciate your restraint in neither condemning nor advocating my project ("I will not condemn you, ..."). I love your statement about supporting matrices of interpretation--that's what I most love about your work: it seems to grow and change *with* me, and I've been living with your words for twenty years now (first show was Who/Dead at Oakland, Oct. 1976, and I was enchanted by the way "Roll away the dew" echoed off the back wall: Roll away away away the dew the dew dew dew...) I'd like it if you and Barlow and the band could see my work as a thank you.

And thanks for the tip on the Marsh King's Daughter reference--don't know how I missed that one, and I'll add it in.

I have made links to your site from a number of places within my own, including from Jurgen's essay, rather than downloading it into my site, though if you have any inclination to remove it from, I'd be happy (and honored) to provide space for it within my little domain. I have also linked to it from the "Franklin's Tower" annotations, and from "Truckin'," as well as from your discography.

Again, thanks for the reply,



Subj: Plea from the masses
Date: Fri, Mar 29, 1996 3:30 PM EDT


I'm sending this message to you as a plea from the masses who have enjoyed your work (and how easy to forget the source behind the source) over the years. I would like to suggest to you that somewhere you take the time to document your inspirations as you have recently with "Franklin's Tower". I understand your hesitancy in this area. My request is not to document the "true" meaning of your works, we both know that in it's ambiguity liesit's power. Most of this material has, for me anyway, already developed deep personal meanings that even you would be incapable of destroying. What I ask is that your inspirations be documented lest they be lost forever.

Thank you for all that you've given us over the years, may it be returned in kind...


Subj: g'morning, mr. hunter!
Mar 29, 1996 10:35 AM EDT

dear mr. hunter,

please allow me to introduce myself,
i'm a dead head from way back when.
i've been around for such a long time,
the same shows, we both may have been.

well, i finally got to your web page - it's kind of hidden, as there doesn't seem to be any direct way to get to your page from the 'official' grateful dead web page. i got the url from someone who had been there before me.

thanks for making it what you said you wanted to make it - a real page for dead heads, not just a slick place to get a tee shirt. i like it - a lot!

you ask about suggestions for your web page - how about a grateful dead discography?

the reason why i went to visit your page was to read your rebuttal about 'franklin's tower'. tres cool imagery! i tend to be more visually oriented, so your words conjure up images in my mind - like a
newborn baby in a mother's arms, each looking into the other's eyes, both with eyes filled with love and trust. or 'the four lean hounds': i see four greyhounds, maybe even four very friendly greyhounds, their
leashes tied at the four corners of a lighthouse, and they're out at the ends of their runs, guarding. but they're friendly hounds, and won't bite, but their thoughts tell you that they are guarding.

btw, i totally missed the 'sweet jane' reference, at least as how you explained it. thanks for explaining it - i now get a better appreciation of what's happening.

btw part 2 - that 'nonsense' phrase that you start off with - i think i do get it! :-)

thanks for your time - ihor slabicky

Lost the beginning of this one somewhere along the line . . . rh

I really enjoy the work you've done on your web site so far (mine's called Levity, and is found at and features my longtime friends and colleagues Terence McKenna, Steve Silberman, Erik Davis andothers. If you'd like to put some of your work there, too, I'd be honored.) Check out Terence McKenna's Hyperborea at

[disclaimer: the URL's provided on these pages have not necessarily been checked out by the co-ordinator of this archive. They are provided as a convenient way of checking out what you decide to explore of your own free will anyway. If your morals are scrambled by the contents of any of them, be it on your own head. Caveat Emptor. The internet is too extensive to check out the links and the links to links, ad infinitum, eventually leading to every damned file ever published, even should one have all the will in the world to enforce every conceivable prejudice of the moral majority and their legislative apparatus. Humph. Ahem.]

Subj: Kudoos to the Cook!
Mar 24, 1996 4:55 AM EDT

kudoos to the cook
who dreamed up this recipe
for sheer delight and thrill!

To find you amoungst us,
here on the bandwidth,
Why I won't be happier 'til

I've read every poem,
every lyric verse and then,
picked your thoughts quite clean.

For only the poet laureate that you are
(he who has given the soundtrack to my life the words),
could quite know what I mean......

Now, seriously (like I, of all people, should be writing verse to Robert Hunter!), I couldn't be more delighted to find you on "what's new". Alerted, tho' I've been by many, it's a post to our little newsgroup (there's about 45 or was that 56 and rising--lost track in the last few wks-- of us ex-Deadheads around the world (actually the States, Australiaand England) that invited each other to join) that made me check it your vault of pieces, here on the screen, after midnight on just one more
saturday night. What a delight!!!!!

Been wondering what you've been up to, and where you've been. Thoroughly enjoyed your ventures out to People's Park in Berkeley [redundant, no?] in the 70's and miss your lack of live performances. Guess we all got a little sidetracked by the Good 'Ole Grateful Dead. Now, all we need to do is get Calico hooked up--she's missing all the fun!!!

Waiting with eager anticipation, of any and all thoughts, poems, lyrics etc you would care to enlighten us with, and enliven our lives by.
-Blair Carroll

A few comments: #1 please hyperlink your Dead songs so the kids with time/money constraints can just double click on the lyrics they want/need and go right to that piece. [I'm really glad I no longer feel the need to type out your lyrics for the poor kids begging for them on --the mass newsgroup we broke off from].

#2 I'm sure you've heard of nothing but this, but your piece in Jerry's memory went around the world and touched so many of us, that it lead one woman on our newsgroup who posted the lyrics yesterday to your new "Cupful of Rain" (which is incredibly lovely, by the way) to quote at the bottom of it:

"Now that the singer is gone,
where shall I go for the song?

"Without your melody and taste
to lend an attitude of grace
a lyric is an orphan thing,
a hive with neither honey's taste
nor power to truly sting."

From Robert Hunter's Ode to Jerry

--ya just gotta admit that Jerry sure could take your words and hit home with 'em..... (something about Cyrano in here somewhere)

#3 Clue us in to the really long pieces by putting something like "(really long)" at the beginning of a piece like Silver Marbles. On our newsgroup we use "really long", "long" and "short" (everything else, of course, is medium) right in the subject line (or in your case before the piece) so that if we have limited time we can know what to expect--really hard to get into a good piece and realize you had wanted to go to bed before dawn!!!!!

Oh, I'm sure I'll have more to say later....
THANK YOU! for being out there!

Subj: thanks...
Date: Fri, Mar 22
From: (Andrew Calvo)

Dear Robert,

I read through your web site today and wanted to say thanks. I think everyone really appreciates this new direction, you make a lot of sense. In this cosmic world of ours, the net seems like the obvious direction for our community, those of us who have been a part of the kindest of all communities and now have no "there" anymore. I guess now we have a "new" place to go...

I thought I'd offer any help you might need if my field is of interest-I work at Digidesign-who makes computer based digital audio workstations. A lot of people use our systems to prepare audio for the web-there are a lot of great tools to insure that the audio is the best it can be-so if you'd like any help or advice, feel free to contact me.

And thanks again-you've brought a lot of joy to a lot of people.

Respectfully yours,

Andrew Calvo

Mar 27, 1996 9:36 PM EDT
From: (Reilly Platt)

Dear Hunter,

I read with interest your comments about publishing on the net. I agree with you that what is coming down the pike is beyond our wildest visions. I applaud your self publishing effort and hope that people will renumerate you for your work. I think that many people will.

Before pushing off I want to thank you for the words. I absolutely loved what the boyz did with them, but the words always stood on their own for me. Since I'm a fellow poet, I guess that's not all that much of a surprise. Thanks for so much gold and so little dross.

It occurs to me you might like the poem that came to me the morning after Jerry died. I was numbly looking out the window, watching sun and wind on the whirly-gigs when this appeared:

Spinning whily-gigs reminds
me of time

fast - slow

good - bad

terms we say

our life binds


hello - goodbye

Reilly Leon Platt
August 1995

Hmmmm, I rarely type my stuff, and it doesn't flow right, oh well, you'll get the idea. Best of luck in your endeavors. Thanks for the tunes and words- Reilly

P.S. Thought I'd leave you with something a bit more upbeat. It came to me the day after my first swim last year on March 13th. Here in Northern Mass the ice is usually still in so twas a bit chill, the sun was westering and glinting off the wavelets, and a couple of wood ducks whizzed by just before I went in:

Winged whistling overhead

as I plunge into

sharded light

that freezes

RLP - March '95

Date: Tue, Mar 26, 1996
From: (Stephen Windsor)

robert hunter

i just read your analysis of the franklin's tower lyrics. as you can well imagine, the lyrics have an entirely different meaning for myself. i was however most interested in your meanings; i was suprised that most of them have a literal base, metaphorically stated. it just goes to show, you don't ever know... thank you for sharing them with us.

as for my interpretations, i would like to share with you a few of probably have heard this a thousand times before...

roll away the dew - to open one's eyes or consciousness/ franklin's tower [there hangs a bell] -essentially the zone, give it a good ring, you can't tell -- you take your chances but you dont know what the future will bring...but ring it anyway! you plant ice, you're gonna harvest wind - karma this, karma that...may the four winds blow you safely home -- may the elementals take you home

you can see that those interpretations revolve about a topic, which when coupled with the live music serve as a powerful (for me anyways) transportation mechanism.

i just want to say that your lyrics have had a wonderful impact on my present life. Every day one or more of your phrases come into use one way or another, and in doing so help me to get through the dream....


Subj: I'm guilty
Date: Fri, Mar 22, 1996

Hello Robert,

Just stopped by for the first time in many months, and spent some time on your pages. I am one of those who is guilty of "giving away" your work, and I thought I should make a clear breast of it.

For a couple of years, there have been text files available at the Berkeley archive containing lyrics (and sometimes tabs) for around 400 Dead songs and covers (including all of yours). Many folks on request lyrics, and I regularly posted replies, to them, from these text files. I wanted an easier way of doing so, so I converted one of the existing text files ( into hyper-text format (using winhelp). I then thought it would be nice to make my ht version available on the net, but I wanted to correct and add to it, not drop it off stealth, like many others had done.

I added album information, other artistís info, and adds for your book, and GDM (songbooks). And tried to let you know what I was planning on doing (though I probably didnít try hard enough):

About August 1, 95 (such timing), I sent three very preliminary copies of this winhelp format files to (xxx) and asked him to forward a copy to you. I wasn't seeking official permission (cause of all the other artists involved), but rather trying to let you all know what I was contemplating, and give you a chance to stop me, if you chose. Suppose I should have hit GDP and DeadHeads, too, but (xxx) was the route that was indicated to me as proper.

Anyhow, about a week later, the roof caved in. Then on Sept. 1, I said (to myself) xxxx it, and went ahead and posted my file. I've updated the posting a couple of times since. And have posted several messages regarding its availability to rmgd.

Now itís time for another update (I've converted it to MS Viewer 2.0), and was planning on posting this version about 4-1 (along with it ís new companion - a ht version of Ihor W. Slabickyís "Complete
Grateful Dead Discography" - with his permission). Iíd be very happy to show you what Iíve done, or send you a copy (if you have access to a Windows box). Or cease and desist, and have the existing file purged from Berkeley, if you so desire.

Again, I was never trying to pull a fast one, and did all I could to see that my file would only help to sell more records, and books. My conscience is pretty clear, but it would be even clearer, if I had your unofficial ok.

So, please, take a moment and give me some sense of direction.

Thank you, and take care,
Mike Ryan

Date: Wed, Mar 27, 1996
From: (Stephen Windsor)


once more into the fray...what you said. the lyrical content should not be sliced like a bag of carrots, any more than one can apply a two-dimensional slice to a three-dimensional model -- all you get is the slice and not the additional dimension. The music, and the lyrics, and the band's interpretation, as well as the moment, all lend to the picture in its completeness. Really it's all in the eye of the beholder. And some of us will see meanings which apply to our lives and others will see an incomplete dissection (which also is the size of the scapel one wields).

i imagine you in your composition could not have any ideas about how ultimately the song would evolve. You are right on in that the lyrical content, once formed, will take on a meaning of its own usually devoid of its original intent, and in fact attests to the the broadness of the lyrics.

in short, if you get confused, listen to the music play...

thanks for the discussion...i will check out your web page from time to time...


Date: Thu, Mar 28, 1996 10:13 PM EDT
From: (Ralph Kohn)

Greetings from the Midwest!
It was a nice surprise to find your homepage this evening, I am new to this kind of electronic communication and find it very exciting. I am an old (and avid) fan and will look forward to checking out your page weekly now. I know in recent years your writing has gone in some interesting directions and I sure hope someday you will get the itch to pick up the acoustic six-string and head out on the road for some small tours. It would be a great comfort to once again hear you play old favorites (and new). Keep up the good fight in cyber-space!

Most respectfully,

Ralf Kohn

Subj: T. S. Eliot pages
Date: Sat, Mar 16, 1996

I bopped over here in my Internet disguise, and was cruising the T.S. Eliot page, and was reminded I just probably misquoted him to you! In case you haven't looked for it, Burnt Norton is located at: With the main TSE page being:

The First Movement of Burnt Norton:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.

But to what purpose

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.

Other echoes

Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle, To look down into the
drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.

Geoff Gould
Musical Instrument Design and Consulting
Internet Design and Consulting

Mar 21, 1996

I wrote a poem in honor of my sister's 50th birthday. One of the stanzas reads, quite accidentally, like it issued from your muse. Can you guess which one?

P.S. I sent this message once before, but the attachment probably got stripped off since it wasn't in ASCII. Or you may very well have said xxxx it, i don't know this guy or his sister (or the horse they rode in on), in which case this missive will likely suffer a similar fate.

To Kate at 50

At 50 wouldn't it be okay
To carry some of care's big coins no further?
To say, "Okay, we've gone along enough
Together. I've earned a little sovereignty?"
To say, "That here!" "This there!" "That's right,
at least for me?"

A year can earn so little--or so much--
all hangs on what has happened in the past.
Another tiny bite out of an orange
--who knows how large?--or matters
well in hand and firmly grasped.

Right now the fruit has some dimension
Heft, curve, and scent, to only mention
Bits of what you know about the world;
A bigger ball that rolls uncertain,
Who's that man behind the curtain?
Pain and joy and love and death unfurled.

Fifty might be halfway there, or maybe more,
There isn't an accepted way to know.
You might be closer than you think
As close as to the kitchen sink
But then again that's further than the stove.

You have a gift for being far
no matter if it's there or over here.
When you decide to hover close
I do suspect you've had a dose
Of something a bit stronger than good cheer.

But kids' brave minds can find you out
To them you seem less harder to pin down.
You come to earth for little ones,
You flap their sheets and pinch their buns,
And presence lights your face, hijacks a frown.

I wrote these lines to comfort you
They came along the avenue
While I was buying liquor for your party.
I near pulled down deserted street
To fumble for a paper sheet
But thought why stop I'm really not that arty.

So here's the best that I can do
A lunch hour stretched to almost two
The most a man in my position dares.
But for your joy I'll write a measure,
Drink a dram and pour your pleasure
Just so's you know your little brother cares.

Sat, Mar 30, 1996 (Christian Crumlish)

At 04:27 AM 3/30/96 -0500, you wrote:
>Dear Christian,
>good letter. I may put it in the mailbag next week. I use aol for the flashmail utility.

There's a mailbag at your site (reveals shallow perusing so far...)? I
forgot to mention the main thing I meant to mention though! Which was your
discussion of Franklin's, and rather than the eerie concordance with that
most popular of shaggy-dog posts, the fact that it reminded me strongly of
an insight revelation epiphany? i had at a december coliseum show either 93
or 94. one of those great help>slip!>franklin's during which the lyrics
briefly put aside their cubistic mirroshow and spoke to me very clearly.
your eyes looked from your mother's face was clearly on genetics,
inheritance, life as a continuum from person to person, and so on; now
clearly the wildflower seed lyric is a blessing may you stay forever
younglike, a realization that we are all cosmic dust floating on the surface
of a small planet but i digress.

I'm looking for my comments about that show. I've done a terrible job of
archiving my own posts to, but i'd like to send them to you,
along with a few other things


makes me want to make utterly clear that stuffing paper or electrons from me
under a pile and forgetting them is utterly reasonable (not trying to add to
the weight of obligations perceived and real in the world). i have some
inkling of how exposed you may start feeling with your up front web presence
and "public" e-mail address. still i'm grateful for a crack to slip my
little missive through.

>sessions which permit me to collect and post a lot of email without paying a
>lot of online time. This site is heating up quick. Don't know how I'll handle

Surprises me that you can't get free (or flat-rate) access via and
maybe a direct internet provider to make your connection!

I'm glad the site is getting hot. It needs some life as you so directly
pointed out.

>it. Maybe have to (gasp) batch replies. My other address is just for personal
>friends and long term correspondence.

i didn't mean to intrude even allusively on your private channels!

just figgered out yer handle (you know when you grope for luna?)

one last thing. when jerry died, i wrote my own thoughts up under the title
"he had to die" and published it in the zine (rank hath its privileges). i'd
be honored if you were ever to read it. that same episode of the 'zone
(September 1995) featured Levi Asher's poem "The Summer Jerry Died." That
would be for the cover of
episode 4; or straight to author pages for Asher or me and then to our
pieces from there (ain't hyperlinking grand?).

xian =%7o
[homepage] [majorlinksl

Subj: Lyrical significance
Date: Fri, Mar 29, 1996 5
From: (Steffen Keating)

Dear Robert,

The Grateful Dead have been, and will continue to have great
significance in my life. And your lyrics have been a LARGE part. I
have always loved the lyrics;however, they all took on a whole new
significance when Jerry and an extremely close friend of mine died
last summer within a month.
Several songs including "Comes a Time," "Stella Blue," "Days
Between," "Touch of Grey," "Terrapin," "Box of Rain," "Eyes of the
World," "SOTM," "Follish Heart," "Black Muddy River," "Built to
Last," and "Mission in the Rain" helped me get through an extremely
difficult time. I went through a great deal, and someday I hope to
be able to tell you all about it. Now, I am a Northwestern student,
and I am doing really well. I, like numerous others, have many tales
of 'getting shown the light in the strangest of places.'
These experiences have greatly shaped my own verse. I attempted to
write poetry long before I became a Dead fan, but your lyrics/verse
has greatly shaped my poetry since.
I have a real good friend who is an exceptional guitarist. Now I
know the EVERYONE knows a great guitar player, but Mike will be
attending the Berklee school next year. He is incredible, and I am
confident that he will achieve greatness through guitar. He is an a
great band now, Leif, and I attempt to write lyrics for them. When I
was going through the worst time in my life, nobody was there for
me-except memories and songs.
My dream in life is for my lyrics to have as much impact on people
as yours do. I know I have never met you, but I have read many
stories in various dead related books and lyrics, and I feel that
you are a friend of mine. I have read your interviews with David
Gans, and someday I hope we can have a conversation. Jerry's gone,
but I'm sure you have some wonderful stories to tell. Maybe we'll
meet someday. Thanks.

-Steffen "Wrapped in Ice
Never this warm.
Outcast of Society
for failure to conform."

Date: Fri, Mar 22, 1996
From: (Jeffrey Horowitz)

Dear Mr. Hunter,

Long time (20 years) fan here and also a person who has been on the net for 10 years and works in the technological industry which includes designing internet security systems for very large corporations.

I am thrilled to see you publish on the net and look forward to reading your work as it gets up there. I have been waiting a long time for this explosion of net activity to come. What I see as the next phase, that is now beginning, is better content. The truly fascinating thing about the net from my perspective is that is the ultimate product of a democratic society and it is readily available to the masses. So great artists like yourself and unknowns (like me - I create digital animations and music) can all publish their own work immediately.

Mailing lists and web servers are making it so much easier for artists and their audience to communicate as compared to a few years back. This will make for more and hopefully better art, something our capitalist society surely needs help in promoting. Mr. Hunter I thank you for all your past work and I look forward to what's coming up. If there is anything I could do to help you get the net working for you more effectively please let me know. I have a great deal of technical knowledge and resources at my disposal.

Other then that - keep on producing, your work inspires me and many others!

- Jeff

Subj: Cowboys
Mar 29, 1996
From: (Ethan Davis)

Robert Hunter,

This is a little something I was inspired to write from a dream I had during the Atlanta run of 95.

As I sit here listening to 7/8/95, the day before the end, a thought reoccures to me. I have often pondered the idea that heads who go on tour are much like cowboys. Cowboys are unique to America because of the cattle roaming the vast exspanses of this country. Cowboys met the economic need for rustlers to make a profit from these cattle. Similarly, heads began in America because we feel a need to follow a group that brings sustenance to our lives, whether that be spiritual, friendship, economic, or a sense of adventure. Likewise, the cowboy seeks adventure, and spends free time spinning tales about such adventures, just as we tell our stories of the road.

Through time, legends and folklore have surrounded the image of the cowboy,just as it has for heads. Often, we imagine cowboys as romantic scenes of sunset, sleeping under the full moon as the wolves howl in the distance. I'm sure, at one time or another, we thought that following the band was a similar
life of unity with other heads and enjoying the good life. However, research will prove that cowboys, for the most part were desperately poor, due the lack of labor laws, low wages, dangerous lives, and a hankering for the wet stuff.

Similarly, life on tour is not always sunsets and full moons. I've slept in my share of muddy fields which leaves me with a cold or flu, and no time to recover before having to move on. We've all been victim to that rare head who can't keep his hands out of our wallets.

Just as the trail cooks of yesteryear were a sense of pride to the cowboys he served, we all seek out that person who makes the meanest veggie burrito or fatty stir-fry. Word gets around quick and before long you have to wait in line for the honor of talking to the best trail cook at the campsite.

Cowboys had a certain code of ethics that was adhered to even in a time of basic lawlessness. You took turns catching strays and you kept your hands off other's horses. Similarly, I rarely hesitate to leave my camp set-up when I go off to the evening's show, with confidence that my belongings are safe. If you ever needed a lift to the show, you can rest assured that you will get there, and conversely you know that anyone you give a ride will not be some maniac. Yet, statistics tell us that the world has gone to hell in a bucket.

Sadly, the cowboys, for the most part disappeared shortly after automation was introduced to the cattle business. No longer was there a need for rustlers. Just as sad, when Jerry died, we lost our motivating force to stay on the road.

Though the cowboy life was hard and dangerous, it is all they knew and they were good at it. Settling down finding a 9 to 5 and taking on more traditional resonsibilities just never set well with the cowboy. I'm sure if we had the choice we would not sleep on the ground shooing away bugs all night, but when you can no longer go on the road you find yourself missing the never ending music and the wet clothes and broke down cars. It was your chosen life. You are at the mercy of the elements not a boss. The difficulties all seem worth it when you score those tickets or a long day on the road (or trail) ends with a sunset made just for you.

with kindest regards,


Fri, Mar 29, 1996
From: (Christian Crumlish)

I'm glad you're as excited as many of us are about the potential of the Web medium. When I read your reply to Jurgen's essay from the annotated lyric site (now isn't that a wonderful example of scholarly collab?), I was struck by the resemblance to the "olden days" practice of men of letters (yes, sexist term else would be anachronistic) publishing, making public, their writings, and carrying on public discussions are debates on matters of great importance.

I've been publishing an e-zine on the Web since late 1994, called Enterzone. It's totally free (not just in the sense of free to read, but also in the sense that it's not sponsored by anyone--supported by labors of love and elbow grease). By coincidence, we're publishing a story by young Jurgen in our upcoming episode. We're also planning to publish excerpts from an online discussion of fiction on the Web and the novel in the age of electronic publishing.

If at any time, you'd like any of your writings (poetry in particular) to come out in an online magazine forum, I'd be honored for you to contribute.

I understand, from Steve Silberman (by the way, his fabulous interview with you in Poetry Flash is also available on the Web), that at the time the site was going online there was a flash-flood of controversy because links to his write-up of Jahrhundert Halle connected to his poem The Drum Circle, which we published in Enterzone a while back. As it happened, the "next door" story in that episode featured an adult man masturbating in the same room as his sleeping baby. This led to people thinking that Steve had somehow linked the Dead site to a kiddie porn site (!) (This was when the net-censorship hype was heating up.) Actually, I was a little worried to learn that whoever inside the Dead entity had that little understanding of how "it's all connected" on the Web.

Speaking of which, have you checked out Levi Asher's Literary Kicks web site? It's mostly dedicated to our old friends the Beats.

Well, I hope I'm not intruding, or overly gushing. You are a hero of mine and I was excited, in reading your articles at your site, to see that you "get it" as far as the Internet and Web are concerned.


Between the Man On the Very Short Line from Mars and the Forceps
Ratdog's Immortal Soul, A Live Pink Rock 'n' Roll Flower Ride
The 6 Jaw Bone, 3 Cage Stone, 6 Gred Stories, 2 Marst Poems
One More Solution to Drop the Welcome Back Actions
You and One of the Puritans in the Safety Age
The Nylons Committee (actual size)
Little Tiny Golden Comix
Spring in Review
Stimulants Me

Date: Fri, Mar 29, 1996
From: (Tom & Nancy Melito)

I don't want to waste your time or bandwidth with a gushing display of enthusiasm. I just want to thank you for the loving care you are obviously devoting to your web page. The community sorely needs creativity, inspiration and fun. I hope this endeavor turns out to be truly interactive, providing you some of the joy your writing has given us.

Fare Thee Well!

Tom Melito

Mon, Apr 1, 1996
From: (Bill Weir)

Robert -

Love the site and your ideas for using the Web...this is what it should be
about. As you said, the Dead home page leaves something to be desired. I
always thought that your newsletters of yore were wonderful stuff. These
pages have the same feel.

The newsletters were the original inspiration for the Tribe of Wandering
Bozos, (aka The Bozo Mountain Tribe, aka The Real Bozos) a group of more
than fifty people, who started as a bunch of West L.A. heads who met and
came together at shows in the late 60's and early 70's, eventually moved to
Oregon and then wandered all over the Western United States. And, all these
years later, you still influence the journey.

After Jerry died, I got hundreds of replies to my Web pages from heads
young and old, and I realized the power we have in this community and
proposed we do something in Jerry's memory. From that idea grew a mailing
list, which now has about seventy people in 7 countries. The Together List
is a group of people who, wanting to do something to remember Garcia, are
working 'together', using the Net to make the world a little kinder. Your
site became a topic of conversation after Blair <> wrote
about it, and now it's put a smile on my face.

I really believe the Net can be a powerful tool for bringing people
together, and it offers new opportunities for creativity, so it's great to
see my favorite wordsmith grab it with both hands.

Some notes:

Typo on intro to lyrics near end of 1st paragraph -

"You'll see exactly what I mean "whn" you boot."

You also wonder:
"I should probably put some jokes at the top of the page." -

A joke might help...or something. I have a 28.8, & it took awhile to load.
It's always a good idea to give people something to read or a simple
graphic up top, so they always have something to look at while the other
stuff loads...big (ie. slower loading) graphics should always go toward the
bottom of the page.

I look forward to coming back often. - Bill Weir


(WARNING! ACTIVATING THE FOLLOWING LINKS WILL TAKE YOU OUT OF DEAD.NET AND INTO FREE FLOATING CYBERSPACE. I haven't personally investigated these links but offer them on trust that the content will not irretrievably warp your mind. . .rh)

Some of my pages -

My homepage:

Some Dead stories, including my story about getting kicked out of Winterland:

A page about the name Weir (I'm no relation to Bob) & some Scottish history:

A little more about the Real Bozos:

Use the exploding Web to get rich!


A site about the Together List, set up up by Colin Pringle:


Mar 29, 1996
From: (Eric Becker & Vanessa Rule)

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Your new site conveys a warm human-ness utterly lacking in so much of cyberspace. One of the few sites where I have been touched.

Please keep it up. I'll try to pull my weight as member of the family.

-Eric Becker, Somerville, MA

Subj: A few thoughts
Date: Tue, Apr 2, 1996
From: (Eric Elliott)

Dear RH,

Let me start by saying thanks -- first for providing years of lyrics that have been part of what is best described as a mythology for many of us, and secondly for recently becoming an encouraging presence on the Web.

I particularly enjoyed reading your explication of "Franklin's Tower," and thought of something tangentially related to one of your allusions. You point out that "Roll away the dew" partially alludes to "Morning Dew," invoking the specter of nuclear devastation as a threat to American democracy. When I read this, I couldn't help but think of Joseph Campbell's statement, after attending a Dead show, that the Grateful Dead were the "antidote to the atom bomb." In light of the fact that we deadheads were often admonished to "Roll away the dew" (even though we may have not understood the complete meaning of the phrase), Campbell's statement seems all the more appropriate.

It's encouraging to see you making a home in cyberspace -- I think many deadheads are looking to this new frontier as a gateway to many exciting possibilities for the Grateful Dead community. I'm not sure what it is about this new form of human interaction that makes is seem such an appropriate place for the tribe to gather and express itself, but I would venture to guess that it is because cyberspace suggests the potential for the same type of "groupmind" (albeit in what seems like a very different context) that we've become familiar with through the Grateful Dead experience. Our loss of a focus will, as you wrote recently, require a "reshuffling of the deck" and I'll be surprised if cyberspace isn't our ace in the hole. Perhaps it will turn out that, like LSD was thirty years ago, cyberspace is a catalyst for a new form of expanded consciousness. I certainly don't know exactly how that will come to pass -and it's probably already changing us in ways we don't understand -- but signs seem to pointing in that direction. It seems appropriate that was taking its first baby steps just as the most recent Grateful Dead era came to an end, and that the "Grateful Web" took place on the 30th anniversary of the first "official" Grateful Dead concert. (And I hope we'll see more events like this in the near future -- has any consideration been given to "broadcasting" one of the summer shows over the internet?)

Anyway, I'm glad to hear that you're continuing to help steer the helm into the GD future. As you probably know these are difficult times for many deadheads, and more often than not it seems like cynicism is the prevailing attitude. Thanks for keeping the bus rolling!


Eric Elliott

Sun, Mar 31, 1996
From: (Peter S. Oleson)

Mr. Hunter:
I would like this message to convey some sort of information that would enhance your life, but I fear that it is just another thank you letter. You may or may not want to hear about my life up here in the wilds of Alaska, but here it is: I joined the GD fan club after I bought the skull album and read the note about who, where? I guess I am a deadhead in abscentia, as I only saw them once up here in Anchorage. I have many tapes though, also some of those old vinyl bootlegs. I have read everything in your previous page here on the net and was really surprised today when I saw the new page. Any new stuff is greatly appreciated by me. If you ever want to get away from America and need a really low budget friend in Alaska, I am here. Thank you for a real good time.

Peter O.
[homepage] [majorlinksl

Mar 31, 1996
From: RSbklyn@AOL.COM
Subj: Limbo

Hello Mr Hunter,
LOVE your web page--keep it comin'. Can't wait for a seriously "insane labyrinth." I especially enjoy that ps sonnet by Cosmo Nitram--hope to hear more from that cat.

Just now I found myself listening to a Dead tape with a wonderful "Wharf Rat;" and found myself contemplating (and anxiously anticipating, heaven forfend) Mickey's upcoming live rendition of "Fire on the Mountain." I suddenly realized that so many of your incredible compositions are simply not being played live lately...sort of souls in limbo, which isn't a stretch because so many Garcia/Hunter songs are such palpably ALIVE creations. And I thought...this must be a bit of a bummer for you. Funny how the Big Bummer recedes and all the little bummers start showing up. But it is a temporary state, as the songs will keep popping up all over, wearing strange new skin. And I sure hope we'll get to hear you breathing life into tunes old and new at some point in the near future--your voice is so tremendous.
Richard Shaffer

Sat, Mar 30, 1996 (Steffen Britt Keating)

Surely you must jest? I would be honored to have my letter posted on your site. My friends don't believe that you actually read that mail, but Ithink you do. It means a great deal for me to receive your response. Since you answer your own mail, I was wondering if the line from "Mission in the Rain," 'But everything you gather, is just more that you can lose,' is based on the 44th poem of the "Tao Te Ching." I was reading it, and I came across the lines:

'He who is attached to things will suffer much.
He who saves will suffer heavy loss.'

Do you ever perform live anymore? If not - why not? Are there any copies of your live performances circulating? I love 'Reuben and Cherise' from Box of Rain, and I would love to her your live version of Liberty. I would get so upset when people would complain that Liberty was overplayed. The lyrics are great. 'Sake of mercy, I would KILL for love' The passion is quite intense. I had a pretty phenomenal experience last summer, which made Liberty take on a new meaning.

Oh, leave me alone
to find my own way home.

P.S. How's Phil?


Mar 31, 1996
From: (Barbara Stoner)

Dear Robert:

Thank you for sending the Fauth piece. I read it last night and thought I'd send you some of my own thoughts on it. I just wish I could get his name past my lips without an uneasy feeling that I'm actually pronouncing "Faust" with a lisp, but I expect I'll get over it. :)

I agree that the paper as a whole is interesting and well-written. His paradigm of the rock concert, and of a Grateful Dead Concert in particular, using Erika Fischer-Lichte's "The Semiotics of Theatre," presents another intriguing structure in which to discuss and describe our concert experience. Under gestures - could we get a thread on Dead Flames discussing the semiotics of "the lunge"? Probably not. Maybe on The Well, but I'm not there yet. Much of this parallels thoughts I've had now and then, sitting on the hood of a car in the lot, musing about this thing as a whole - how we get from here to there, from front gate to exit, and about how another journey has been undertaken in a few short hours, we've all been there and back again - but most of this seemed fit only for car-top musing.
To put it in a box of words would be reductionist. It would not tell the story at all. "A Cupful of Rain" tells the story better than hours of musing, rational and ir. All the same, I'm happy that someone is attempting these analyses. They provoke discussion and connection. These connections
of consciousness, I think, may be of far greater value than the content of the discussion. The discourse, like the words and music, can take us a little further than we knew we were going, and so the adventure continues.

That said, let me go on to quibble further with his song analysis. I can't quarrel too much with what he says about "Crazy Fingers" - he seems to understand something of what the song evokes. There is much more, of course, but I'm not going tackle "Crazy Fingers" here. Nor can I quarrel TOO much about "China Cat Sunflower." I like the comparison to "Lucy in the Sky." But none of this can really be adequately described as "nonsense", even using that word in the kindest of tones. I have no idea what you had in mind when you wrote it, but I can picture it coming, as it would come to me, as it has
come to me over the years. The China Cat, the Puss 'n Boots, that sly rascal of mischief and adventure, yawns and stretches and blinks his eyes, and there, if you're watching for it, is a glimpse of something wondrous, something with a sparkle of silver, a string of gold, a shower of pearls. That cat has been there. He's seen it. He knows. And then he stretches out in the sun and goes back to sleep, dreaming of the time he frightened a little mouse under the chair of the Queen Chinee, and leaving you with only a wink of memory that you know is real somewhere. This is not nonsense. This is metaphor, allusion, evocation at the highest power. A concept of beauty and magic that resonates so strongly because we recognize it. We know it for true.

I was particularly disappointed in his discussion of "Eyes of the World." To say that the song does not "make sense" simply does not make sense to me. Oh, there are rooms and rooms of possible interpretation built within it, but I would hazard a guess that most of them revolve around the concept ofmcycles. I don't understand how he can call "the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom and decay" an interior contradiction. "The sky was yellow and the sun was blue" may be an interior contradiction, but the line from "Eyes" is a description of a cyclic process. Silent seeds containing a
bit of life in dormancy sprout, bloom, and decay. Redeemers, prophets, leaders of all kinds, come and go, rise and fall, night becomes day becomes night, we are with others and a part of them, we are alone - these are cycles of being, the wheels within wheels that circumscribe our lives. And
somewhere, there at the core, is still the wonder that within these wheels, as we travel the cycles ourselves, is a miracle of our own unique being. "Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world." However we perceive the world, defines the world - or adds one little additional description of the world that goes into making up the larger truth. "Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings." There is a challenge in here, reminding us that how each one of us sees the world helps make the world what it is. There is responsibility here, and hope. And there is the
acknowledgement that, wherever we are, travelling the course of the wheels, going through the cycles, always that song of our own is uniquely ours, and even if it is never heard, it must be sung.

Thanks again for sending the article. It feels good to put my rusty brain back to work for awhile. I called Brender yesterday, and had the honor of sending him his first piece of e-mail. His address (although he may have figured out how to send it to you by now) is (omitted). He's got an
old dinosaur of a computer - he had to get AOL for DOS - and does not have web access, but we may get him hooked yet. I could hear Caroline in the background when I was talking with him - poor guy was hemming and hawing as if he were about to initiate countdowns on nuclear devices or something -
"For god's sake, just hang up and let her e-mail you!" :)

Looking forward to the Mailbag next week. There should be some good pieces there. I'm planning on getting a webpage up in a month or two. Have to get my computer guru down here to help me. I'm still pretty ignorant about nuts and bolts. My computer friends tease me - god, Barbara, you actually WORK on yours when you should be downloading and reconfiguring. Ah, well.


Barbara Stoner

Subj: I was thinking...
Mar 31, 1996

Mr. Hunter,
Iwas thinking about something regarding the later years of the band and your lyrics.

Do you think that the messages or maybe themes in your music live true for today? You know 1996. I mean, I know the characters you created will always be alive in a sense, like they practically have local address' within their own song. But the whole "strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hands" set of ideals. The whole scene that revolved around these themes like an electric neon circus for so many years. Society itself is most hostile so why shouldn't you find this hostility in our own family??? Who knows, but to the people who came on board at a later stop, did they listen to the words? That's silly of course they did, but do you think they got say the same positive messages and vibes as they were I hope meant to give out? I know I became increasingly uncomfortable at the later shows due to the "ME, ME, ME" side that seemed to hold a majority over the scene. I know you probably have a different perspective, but did you notice this? Two heads walking down the street in dyes won't even acknowledge each other in 1996. Maybe thats why he was ready to leave, it essentially came falling apart at the seams this summer.

Anyway I ask you this because I myself look to express the views and the passions for life and the adventure on the banjo, or musically in some end of the universe. That's what Jerry left me, A love for damn spoiled music and a flame for adventure I hope to never get over...

Dear Paul,

The mailbag containing your letter will be posted April 5 at

Click the "what's new?' button & the rest is obvious. Do read through the mail and see how your question (on a lot of minds) is being expressed by many. Some glimmer of hope is being generated by the internet. People want what you want but the free ride is over and now they're going to have to work and build something themselves. My purpose is to recognize this and use my resources to implement it. Same as it ever was.

Cyberspace is only a potential. We've got to make it into a hospitable place where we can propagate the values we know to be true. Impractical values to counter a pragmatic society. Non-cynical and emotive values expressed in the digital medium.

WW3 is being fought with computers. Diane DiPrima says: the only battle worth fighting is the battle for the mind. Could be the music had to stop to make it apparent that there IS in fact a battle to be enjoined. The Grateful Dead, and this includes you, are a potent force requiring only a hint of direction to mobilize themselves. They can spot fraud a mile off. I propose to provide a place for a forum, i.e. the Mailbag, and let them define themselves to themselves. I'll print the letters in a largely non-critical editor's role. What is strictly fan mail I'll keep for my own enjoyment. Much of what I print celebrates my role in the movement, since it is, after all, addressed to me & people scarcely bother to waste the time to tell you they don't like you. But it's not my business to hack the letters apart to preserve what I consider the more universal substance in them. I won't often print my answers, this one aside, though they are usually implicit in those letters which are replies to my replies.

Not an unpleasant task, I'll admit, though an arduous one, answering each of those letters. As soon as I finish a stack, there's more in the box. The idea of the mailbox only occured to me last week when I saw the unexpected high quality of the letters. I was just going to provide my life's writings for free to those who were interested enough to browse through them. I've got a good income; I don't have to sell the stuff, assuming I could. I decided right off to keep a weekly journal page for my present time spouting. Being on the net, the net itself just naturally becomes the metaphor.

Cyberspace is ultimately plastic and the words must evolve to express it. In trying to define it, folks look for forms, forms, forms ... but it's formless. You just do stuff with it. No one should restrict what you do with it. Restrict accessibility to certain departments for the young, yes, but nothing beyond those immediate portals.

Which of us came here to make no difference? We just need to be able to talk to one another to figure out what can be done and how to do it. My fondest hope is that folks will deluge the the mailbag writers with email and that discourse will ensue on a higher level than shows, tickets and tapes. We're a force. Let's conduct ourselves accordingly.

Well, It's 2am. Time to catch five hours sleep. A light rain falls. Things are feeling pretty good.

[homepage] [majorlinksl