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| - The glitz!
The glamor!
And, currently, The Grateful Dead!
This seems like the thing to do,
as a Minnesotan visiting Cleveland.
I like music.
And I like staring at stuff.
Putting those two things together seems like win-win for me, right?
Sure!
The only thing that gets me down is the price to walk through this joint.
$22?
But they take your photo!
And match it up to some rock and roll themed back drop!
Oh, but they charge you $25 for the photos.
Hmmm.
Rock and Roll, Y U BE SO EXPENSIVE!!!!
I wonder if Jim Morrison knows you're making a cash cow out of his report card.
Admission fee complaints aside,
I had a great time wandering around here and gawking at stuff.
I enjoyed the random memorabilia,
like the hate letter written to The Rolling Stones from some school kid in Fiji,
or, as mentioned before, Jim Morrison's report card and class photo,
some drawings of football players and medieval warriors done by Jimi Hendrix,
and an un-dipped sheet of Janis Joplin blotter acid.
The outfits were the best part for me,
I loved seeing the sequined dresses of The Supremes,
the flowy witchy dresses of Stevie Nicks,
the funky colors of George Clinton's get up,
and the small tailored suits worn by James Brown or Mick Jagger.
It was amusing to see clothing worn by these larger-than-life rock stars,
because you were able to get a sense of their stature
and real life proportions.
Conclusion: All rock stars are actually really short little marvelous people.
The Grateful Dead exhibit was a little minimalist.
I really thought there would be more on display.
The Dead had such a colorful following
and had some really neat artwork flowing through their community.
I thought there would be more of the hippie culture on display,
but it was really sparse.
Sadly, my favorite part of the whole Dead exhibit was the 5-7
envelopes that were kept from the days that they had a ticket give away.
The envelopes were colorful and depicted the flavor of the times,
vibrant and psychedelic, creative and lazily skillful.
I thought for sure I would be overwhelmed with tie dyed shirts,
patchouli oils and those damned bears,
but sadly, the exhibit for this funky bunch was lacking.
True fans, stay away, don't bother.
You're better off getting blazed in your van while listening
to Touch of Gray.
Overall, worth it.
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