It had been a rough start to the year. A work crisis was spiraling out of control, as a three-year project was about to go live. I was working the occasional 20 hour day and 100+ hour weeks. Sleep, exercise, and proper eating were a product for another era. Constant soda, candy, and other forms of sugar and caffeine were needed to try to power through endless days of Hell. Finally though, it did end. We did go live. And when it completed, I went to the doctor for a physical.
I was told that either they’d call me immediately if there was some bad news or I would eventually be mailed a report. When a few weeks went by sans call, I figured all was well. It was just a reprieve though as I got the news late. My test results were consistent with a diagnosis of diabetes.
I’d love to say that I rolled with that pronouncement, but the bad side of the ‘beetus is pretty terrifying and the doctor who had to have the conversation with me, decided that he was just going to scare me into compliance. His bedside manner wasn’t the best – especially unhelpful was his lack of information as to what I could eat, just a comment that there would be a class I could take in a few weeks – but perhaps the shock was what I needed. It drove me to the Internet where I got some more practical advice. The answer was simple, well at least simple to say. Eat fewer carbs, exercise more, and all should be OK. I was still terrified when I read one comment that calmed me down. Apparently there is a strong correlation between successfully managing diabetes and an obsessive personality. Obsessiveness? That’s my strength!
I rechanneled my focus. For a time, I had to not worry quite so much about the “Eye of the Tiger” tease in the 8/20/93 “Harpua” and more about building up a personal library of information about myself. With an iPhone app and a blood glucose meter, I learned a lot about my body. What could I eat? Would this food raise my levels too high? What would happen if I exercised after it? I studied and tested and studied and tested. My money went to insane amounts of testing strips. My fingers had marks from the number of times I drew blood. I logged every single piece of food I ate. I then studied and tested some more. The goal was to just keep my numbers under control (and that it did. For those who know what these mean, in three months I brought my A1C down to a 5.2; that’s in the normal range!), but there was a side effect. The more I kept my diabetes in check, the more the weight started coming off. Even though that was a secondary focus, it was still effective. I found myself 70 pounds lighter in six months.
So that was my year. Diagnosed in February. Scared to travel for the next few months. Diet, exercise – 36 degrees and raining? Fine. Go for a walk anyway! – and more of the same. Finally though came summer tour. It was time to take the training wheels off. Phish were playing the Gorge and I don’t miss those shows, ever. A Gorge/Tahoe run might be just what I needed.
If the goal was to make me leave my new life behind for a while, it started out as an epic fail. Sure I was having fun, but I was seeing a lot of people that I hadn’t encountered since New Year’s, and it would invariably lead to a double take. It was great to be around everyone, and I’d rather people were freaking out because I was in the best shape of my adult life, rather than looking awful, but the first night of the Gorge felt like I was a visitor to a previous persona, one who could spend time and energy worrying about setlists and whether or not jams were being cut off too soon as though that were the most important thing in the world. Was that it? Was Phish just an incredibly long phase that I went through, something to make the twenties and thirties go by, but to be dropped now that adulthood was rearing its head?
The first sign that this would not be the case happened second night at the Gorge. It all goes back to the return shows in 2009. At the final Hampton show, I found myself running up and down the staircases of section W during the “Maze,” reminded once again about how perfectly the instrumental of that song fits the theme. Ever since then, a good “Maze” gets me to run through the crowd, weaving and bobbing around people, trying to find the way out of the labyrinth but finding nothing but dead ends. July 27 was no different. For at least five minutes, that’s what I was doing. There was a maze and I had to get out of it. Page’s incredible solo let me get completely lost, focusing my movements and the music and nothing else. For the first time in months, I actually felt like myself again.
We stopped at home just long enough to drop off our bags and change cars and it was off to Lake Tahoe. While the venue was just a parking lot in a casino, the surrounding area was just as stunning as it was advertised.
Still though, it will not be the stunning lake views on our hike or the Mockingbird poker tournament that will be remembered. It all comes down to that “Tweezer.”
The thing to remember about the Stateline, NV “Tweezer” is that it was really good before the parts that everyone talks about. There are some stunning melodic spaces with some incredible guitar and keyboard tones. The first twenty-one minutes aren’t a waste of time by any means; it’s just that the next fifteen are so incredible.
It starts with Page exploring some beautiful riffs. Trey then takes over the jam and builds to a peak. The taking a theme and speeding it up into a euphoric blend is my absolute favorite type of improvisation – String Cheese Incident built a career around that for a few years in the late 90s – and I could see them play fast jams forever. Unfortunately, you can’t just build and build. You need the slower sections to make the faster ones fully stand out. So after a little peak, the jam slowed into a stop/start section and the band/fan relationship suddenly reached a new stage.
Slowly at first, but then getting louder, a “Woooo!” scream happened at the pauses in the jam. This seemed to inspire Trey as he suddenly launched into a peak of incredible beauty and power, one that caused me to jump up and down, over and over again with a grin larger than I thought myself capable. The launch around the 28 minute mark of the “Tweezer” jam isn’t just one of my favorite moments of Phish in 3.0. I’d put it with pretty much anything I’ve seen Phish do in their career. I’ve already listened to it dozens of times – perhaps most notably was the day after the show, where I found myself sprinting around the hotel parking lot like a madman, running in circles and dancing, completely lost in the jam – and from that moment two things have changed.
The first is that Phish and the band have a new tool in our arsenal. I know it’s cool to bitch about the post-Tahoe, “Wooo”s but if you listen to how they happen, they’re (well almost… the “Reba” one was a bit silly) always signaled by the band. When they want a cheer, they drop out and give us the pause. I see this as a modern manifestation of the old secret language, but this is one that we helped to create rather than it being given to us by Trey.
The other change was more personal. Ever since the second night of Tahoe, and the sheer bliss of the moment, my life has changed again, this time for the better. I still have diabetes – and if there’s one thing I hope this column does, it’s to inspire people to get checked. We’re not getting younger as a fanbase and catching diabetes early is the difference between having to make a few changes to your eating and exercise habits and facing massive and terrifying complications. – but I no longer feel like I am living the life of a diabetic. Sure, I have to be careful about food choices and I can’t just grab the first thing I see that looks good. I have to be sure to get some serious exercise almost every day. But what I was reminded of in a parking lot in Stateline, is that there’s a reason why I’m doing this. It’s not just an endless fight against my pancreas. There’s beauty out there. Staying healthy is a means. The ends is being able to see as much of it as possible, be it mountain glaciers, epic waterfalls, or a ridiculous peak nearly 30 minutes into a “Tweezer” jam.
Phish helped me make it through the bleak years that were the Cruces era. They introduced me to most of my friends. They helped create the excuses to hang out with my wife in the early days of our relationship. As if that weren’t enough, they now led me out of a half-year health related depression. I know they know that people love their music – it’s why they can have a career playing it – but I wonder sometimes if Phish realize just how many positive effects they’ve had on us. Sure we can get caught up in the world of bitching about repeats or the songs that we don’t like, but it’s good to sit back and remember just how much joy they have brought to the world. So Jon, Trey, Mike, and Page, for all that you have brought over the years, thank you. Your music is making positive differences in the world, far beyond what you are even aware of. You deserve all of the rewards that this world can give you.
*****
David Steinberg got his Masters Degree in mathematics from New Mexico State University in 1994. He first discovered the power of live music at the Capital Centre in 1988 and never has been the same. His Phish stats website is at http://www.ihoz.com/PhishStats.html and he’s on the board of directors for The Mockingbird Foundation. He occasionally posts at the Phish.net blog and has a daily update on the Phish Stats Facebook page
