The Tallest Percussionist There Ever Was
It was a cold January night in 2022, and I had just returned to San Diego after a long time away. I was 25 and deep into the Grateful Dead—the music, the people, the whole scene. Earlier that week, a buddy and I had watched Long Strange Trip. I grew up in Los Angeles and had always admired Bill Walton, so I especially loved the parts about his devotion to the band.
Until then, neither of us had heard of the Electric Waste Band. We wondered aloud whether San Diego had a Grateful Dead cover band, asked a few friends, and got pointed toward their show at Winston’s in Ocean Beach. We had no idea Bill sometimes sat in on percussion. We just wanted to hear the music. We were on the bus, and we weren’t getting off.
Before the show, we hung out in the parking lot with the other Deadheads. Then I paid the cover, turned the corner, and stopped in my tracks. There he was, all 6 feet 11 inches of him, standing beside the percussion setup: Bill Walton. I couldn’t believe it. Someone I had admired for years, who loved this music as much as I did, was right in front of me.
The band was on fire that night. After the show, I worked up the nerve to ask Bill for a picture. “Hey Bill, do you mind sparing a photo for me real quick?” I asked. He said, “Anyone who’s cool enough to come to these shows, I’ll take a pic with any day of the week. Hope you liked the show.”
The photo is below. Every time I see it, I remember the thrill of turning that corner and finding Bill there. He was cooler than the other side of the pillow. May he rest in peace.