1984. First Dead show, at Blossom Music Center in Cuyahoga Falls. Though it was my first, it wasn’t the one that kicked my ass sideways — that came a year later at Riverbend in Cincinnati. But it was enough to get my attention, enough to get me to think that there might be something more to heading to a show to see a band coast through a set list of its greatest hits.

There was an inkling there.

The second set at Riverbend was the monster, the one that turned me inside out. A college buddy of mine kept asking me what it was about the Dead that I found so attractive. I played the Riverbend tape for him in a dark smokey dorm room and we ended up out on OU’s golf course in the middle of the night, raving about the music.

But this whole thing began at Blossom — 35 some shows before Garcia died, and a bunch more, with the band’s various incarnations, since then. I go back to Blossom tomorrow, to spread out on the lawn and go at it again. Things aren’t what they were when Garcia was around, but that’s still a beast of a band, capable of grabbing you by the goatee and smacking you around if you’re not paying attention.

That’s a good thing, by the way.

Set list and full account to follow…