I lived with a bunch of Deadheads in college--a more obsessive, trivia-driven bunch of guys I have never met, and never want to meet, and I say that as an umpteen-time winner of baseball trivia contests in bars all across this country. Jesus, give it a rest, man--no one gives a damn about whether they played "St. Stephen" before or after "Uncle John's Band" on Tuesday night. Once in the early 70s, one of them dragged me to a Dead show at the Felt Forum where I got to understand what the term "Grateful Dead" really meant. I wished I'd died--that thing went on and on, everyone standing up and clapping for hours, high as the moon, taping and trading tapes and nodding wisely to each other throughout the interminable set.