A Dead Memory 1971/72

Frankie was burned out on my jeans and T-Shirt habit. New Year's Eve at 6pm she was altering a gown of hers to fit me. It was a lovely pale aqua, cut on the bias with tiny covered buttons from cleavage to floor. To illustrate her determination, she moved every button and let out a half inch or so to make the gown fit. I have to say, it fit like the proverbially glove. She had a professional at the house to do our hair and make-up. Frankie took my glasses and I didn't see them again until the next morning. (Hell...without my glasses I didn't see much of anything until the next morning!) I had to admit that I probably looked pretty good by the way people were staring at me with mouths agape but I couldn't tell you who they were. This was the New Years at Winterland when some crazed Deadhead climbed through the skylight in the roof and was reelin' and a rockin' on the catwalk a hundred feet or so above the very center of the stage. Actually, had he fallen he would have pretty much wiped out Kreutzman's drum set. The audience went eerily quiet as they began to realize what was happening, every face an upturned moon watching the man on the catwalk. Backstage,I'm poking people beside me. "What's happening?! What's happening?!"
The band prudently vacated the stage as Bill Graham, in his inimitable fashion, talked the man down. They lowered this nutso on a rope to the stage where security could snatch him, remove him and the show went on.
Also, it's important to know that that night, no one was allowed onstage/backstage unless you let Rex drop you a dose. So, besides my standard myopia I was hallucinating like crazy.
I looked good though. Everyone said so. For the first and last time in my life I truly was a RAVING beauty!
The next morning we all ended up back at Weirs (including Graham), Frankie gave me back my blue jeans, my T-Shirt and my glasses and we all went to Muir beach to play volleyball until sunset.