Remorse over missed chances

  

“Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again too few to mention.”—from the song “My Way.”

Admit it. We all have regrets. Things we wish we had done or not done. What are some of my biggest regrets? A failed romance? A terrible investment? Someone I have badly wronged?

No. Right now I regret failing to write an article after interviewing the Grateful Dead. A friend told me I should write a column about it.

In 1971, a photographer for The Associated Press saw my car in downtown San Francisco blaring loud rock music full blast on the radio. Probably Crosby Stills & Nash.

“Hey, you should write something about the rock groups around here. This is the big time,” said Richard Drew,

The city was turning out great pop music from the likes of Santana, Neil Young, the Jefferson Airplaneand the Grateful Dead.

So I got ahold of the Grateful Dead’s manager and was granted an interview. At the time, the Dead was in decline after a few hits before it became a legend with enormous following.

I arrived at the Dead’s house and headquarters in San Rafael and sat down with Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir. I think the two must have been feuding. I would ask Garcia a question and he would complain how dumb it was and Weir would respond back with an intelligent answer.

Garcia was quite unfriendly to me. Weir was uplifting and complimentary. “Good interview,” he said as it ended.

I wasn’t sure what kind of a story I had and frankly I don’t remember. I no longer have my notes. I went to see one of their concerts at the huge Winterland Arena. Despite my experience covering entertainment in Las Vegas, I had never thought to ask the Dead for tickets. When I got there, it was sold out, and I could not talk my way in.

I still had a story, but in the meantime, I had just been transferred to Washington. The Vietnam War, the Pentagon Papers, political scandals. Who has time for failing rock groups?

My boss gave me a lot of other assignments before I left for the nation’s capital. “I know you will finish the Grateful Dead story,” he said. Ha! I’ll fix him. I won’t write it! I never did. Take that, Mr. Boss!
Well, as the Dead grew in stature and fame, I  had nagging doubts about my omission. They say it isn’t what you do that you regret. It is what you don’t do.

But let’s face it: I just wasn’t a fan. They did give me a record album, which they probably signed but I no longer have. (Sigh.) If their music really grabbed me, I would have rushed to put out a story, like I did after interviews with Hoagy Carmichael, Little Richard and Dionne Warwick.

So I was proved wrong. I mean, they even named an ice cream flavor after one of the people I interviewed.

About 30 years later, I was having lunch with Austin Kiplinger, my boss, the kind, dignified, stately gentleman whose family ran the Kiplinger Letter for generations.

Somehow our conversation turned to the Grateful Dead. “Why were they so popular?” He asked.

“Drugs, I think” was all I said. There was a long pause and he changed the subject to the Gross National Product, the federal funds rate  or something more boring.

Note to Mike: If a spiked story is one of your biggest regrets, you must have had a pretty easy life.

2nd Note to Mike: You know, maybe I’m glad I didn’t write the article. I have since learned that the Dead’s  strength wasn’t their music, it was the experience of the live shows. Since I never saw one, I would have been left with a bunch of meaningless quotes.