“Crazy Fingers”

Watching Bob Weir with his hands on the wheel as we ride through San Francisco, we are stirred up and amazed by what we see as he brings God into our conversation. Bob Weir is driving and I'm riding, and Bob asks if we can stop for tea and points out a bakery on Jackson Street. Bob uses his fingers as he talks with his hands. Inside the bakery, we sit at the counter, and  he tells me a desert story. Whenever Bob Weir paints an oral picture of the desert I am mesmerized.  He tells me about driving in the desert flats where there’s no speed limit. Like the speedway on an open road. Then he says “you should consider the flip side of Paradise”. The waitress brings our drinks and I offer Bob a packet of sugar for his tea. He takes the packet and, rising out of his seat,  like a baseball pitcher, ready to throw down his poker hand, he slams the sugar on the counter. “I hate sugar!”, he says loudly. Bob, we’re in a bakery! He continues his story and I’m transported in my mind back to the desert. “The faster I go, the rounder it gets,” Weir says to me. "Faster than motion in love."

A three-day celebration of the literary and musical legacy of Robert Hunter,

the poet and lyricist whose words helped define the Grateful Dead songbook,

will take over several Portland, Oregon, venues September 24-26, 2026.

Dubbed Creative Wor(l)ds of Robert Hunter, the gathering will mark the seventh anniversary of Hunter’s passing with a mix of live music, poetry readings, conversations and deep dives into the influences behind one of American music’s most singular wordsmiths.

Robert Hunter´s lyrics are my inspiration.

 He once told me that he sometimes stays up until dawn reading my poetry.

When I was working as a high school poetry teacher in San Francisco,

two of my students,

Gary Sangervasi & Lala Grace Wakefield

help write "Poker Face" and Gary, a talented guitar player,

helped me put chords to the poem and

he would often accompany me to Open Mic nights

 at the Sweetwater in Mill Valley.

We performed this live there.

It´s one of the poems I sent to Robert Hunter.

Bob Weir once asked me if I had any songs.

I pull a paper out of my pocket

and hand him "Twenty-two Roses".

"Is this your best?" he asks me. "Yes", I answer.

John Perry Barlow points out to me,

"If a song doesn´t have a chorus repeating itself,

how can it be a song?"

I am grateful for the lesson about the craft of

 songwriting John Barlow shared with me,

showing me how to build bridges and

follow the  formula for adding the chorus.

MYSTERY RIVERS

The mouth of the Garcia River where it meets the Pacific Ocean

I am backstage one night after the show at The Keystone in Palo Alto with the Jerry Garcia Band, and well into the morning, when almost everyone has gone home, Jerry turns to me and asks me to play him a song. I pick up the Gibson SG; and Jerry Garcia, who knew that I write songs but am not a musician, said "Don´t plug it in, just play!" I play the guitar like an acoustic, and sing a song I wrote, "Mystery Rivers", about the Garcia River in Mendocino county, California, & the Weir River in Hingham, Boston Harbor, Massachusetts.

excerpt

by Uncle John

Verse 1

When moondrops that come from remembering

You looking into my eyes

When you come around again

To sing like a bluebird flies

When I walk beside your footsteps

That come from heaven by the sea

Playing on the promised guitar

In the back hills and under the trees

Like the wedding in the river

And the love it brings

Telepathy on the ledge and bridge

And the light in your eyes when you sing