To quote myself (my facebook page), this was "the single finest weekend of my life... no lie". Words WILL fail me here, but I'll try. I used to go to ridiculous lengths, sacrifice, and expense to catch the Grateful Dead whenever and wherever I could. Few of my family, friends, co-workers understood. But they never experienced those "moments".., a six hour drive each way, madness in the parking lot before and after the show, a blown radiator on the beltway at rush hour, etc, all for that "moment". Everything would click musically, a Stella Blue, maybe a Crazy Fingers, it didn't really matter what song, but it always came at least once per show, when I knew I was standing exactly where I was supposed to be... at the fleeting, floating center of the universe. In that moment I would be moved to tears by the majesty, the beauty, the frailty of our existence, and my soul would be flooded with the purest of gratitude that I had been simply allowed to stand right there, right then. I felt that way again, some fifteen years later, during Jeff's set, standing in the rain, the Berkshires as backdrop. Some three thousand people, a festival audience no less, outside, and you could hear a pin drop... Such respectful, loving fans of a such a respectful, loving band. Thank you Wilco, thank you MassMoca, thank you Higher Ground, and thank you EVERYONE that performed and attended. It was wonderful beyond my feeble words.