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My SF rite of passage: Losing my Grateful Dead virginity at age 36 FacebookTwitterEmail I walked up Haight Street listening to the Grateful Dead on a bluetooth speaker to try to better understand The Most Important San Francisco Band Of All Time.Nicole Album / SFGATE On a breezy Friday at precisely 4:20 p.m., I stepped out of my house in the Lower Haight with a Bluetooth speaker in my hand and pressed play on the Grateful Dead’s live album “Skull & Roses.” I pumped the volume to a definitely-obnoxious level and strolled all the way up Haight. Everyone I passed looked away nervously, except a loiterer in a tie-dyed shirt at the corner of Haight and Ashbury, who gave me the slightest of nods. I turned left on Ashbury and stopped at a Victorian where the band lived, snapping a selfie next to an old tree carved with teddy bears, lightning bolts and a drawing of guitarist Bob Weir’s face.

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