110818 Bob Weir & Wolf Bros featuring Mikaela Davis, Syracuse, NY

On November 8th, 2018 I found myself pulling up to the US border on my way to yet another American show.  As you have probably noticed I do this a lot and I have been doing it for a long time.  ‘Matter of fact, as of this writing I’ve driven across the United States border under a total of five different Presidential administrations.  Amazing, then, that something so common and so mundane as crossing an imaginary line drawn in the sand can still be so full of surprises!

After the usual questions the young, eager border officer asked if I had any radioactive materials onboard.  I replied that I didn’t.  He then asked if I had undergone any recent medical procedures, to which I again replied in the negative.

“This next question may sound a little odd…” he said, at least two questions tardy.

“Do you have any kitty litter in the car?”  I denied it.

“Well,” he replied, “You set off our radioactivity detector so you’re going to have to pull in for an inspection.”  Seeing the obvious concern on my furrowed brow he quickly added: “It’s nothing to be concerned about.”  He pointed towards an RV parked at the next booth over and said, “It’s probably just a bleed from the vehicle in the next lane.”  

I pulled in, sat on the Group W bench for fifty minutes, answered a slew of unrelated questions including “What colour is your hair?” (Um…it used to be brown?), and was finally given the once-over with a handheld Geiger Counter*.  I registered “zero” and was sent on my way.

(Overheard during my wait: One of the people in the RV had indeed undergone radiation treatments recently.  Which means that the US Border is set up with radioactivity-detection devices that are so sensitive that they will react to a person who had been undergoing cancer treatment who is enclosed within a vehicle a full lane away.  Crazy.)

Luckily I had left home early enough that the delay had no impact on my plans.  Just ninety minutes later I was in Syracuse sipping a welcome beer in my hotel room before walking to the excellent (and very popular) Dinosaur Barbecue where I enjoyed one of the top twelve burgers I’ve ever had (a blue burger, of course, with an exceptional side of barbecued beans).  Without hardly rushing at all I made it to the Landmark Theatre well before the show started, though the prodigious beer line did keep me from enjoying the first five minutes of the opening Jack Straw.

The show was Bob Weir & Wolf Bros (which comprised of drummer Jay Lane and bassist Don Was), a last-minute purchase** that was made when I considered a) how close Syracuse was to Ottawa, b) that I (think that I) had never seen Don Was play music before, despite attending several of the tribute concerts he has produced, c) how much I had enjoyed the stripped-down Grateful Dead I had heard in the first set when I had seen Weir play at Radio City Music Hall earlier in the year with just a percussionist and his old bandmate Phil Lesh (Trey sat in for the second set, which was fantastic, though much less “stripped-down”), and finally d) Bob Weir isn’t getting any younger***.

I got to my excellent seat in the eighth row of the overtly ornate theatre (I know I say that a lot but really Syracuse: the place is a little gaudy, don’t you think?) midway through Jack Straw and noticed techs playing with one of three seven-foot tall sticks on the stage.  I’m not sure I’d ever seen these things before but it turned out they were monitors; there wasn’t a wedge speaker anywhere in sight.  

Anyway, the set was indeed bare-bones, with nary a piano lick or lead riff anywhere and it was really great.  Bobby was working hard, filling every conceivable soundspace with his utterly unique rhythmic style, even telling Don Was to calm down and stick to the root notes early on in the set.  The sound was great and so was the setlist, which included classics like Me and My Uncle, Peggy-O, and Althea before closing out the first set with Bird Song featuring a very interesting sit in from a harpist (if you can believe it) name Mikaela Davis, who effortlessly plunked the unmistakable Jerry Garcia-leads and riffs out of her oversized instrument while simultaneously singing bang-on harmonies.

She was really great and (stripped-down bedamned!) she really amped up the sound, big time.

So I was really excited to see Davis’ harp get pulled onto the stage again halfway through the second set.  Starting with Wharf Rat she sat in for the rest of the concert and she was amazing.

Don’t get me wrong, so were Bobby, Don, and Jay (though they collectively looked like Muppets to me, a mirage that I simply couldn’t shake all night), but as far as sheer musical wowness, Mikaela was the focus.

She even took the lead for the first half of the encore on Neil Young’s Down by the River.  And really, that one saong was worth the price of admission right there.  That the show ended with Ripple was just that much more icing.

On the way home the next day the Canadian border officer seemed like she wanted to be anywhere but at work.  After reading from the script in a monotone voice and hardly listening to my answers she quickly handed back my passport without even looking up, muttering, “Welcome home.”  

“Thanks,” I said to no one, having already pulled away from the kiosk and rolling up my window.  O, Canada!

*I really thought they should have tested me for radioactivity right away, rather than let me sit untested for nearly an hour in close proximity to a dozen other people.  But I wasn’t in the position to start making suggestions.  

**I bought my ticket on stupid Stubhub which of course resulted in a stupid paper e-ticket, so no ticket stub for me.

***To be fair, e) neither am I.