Phish reel in the phans December 29, 2003 - Palm Beach Sun Sentinel By Sean Piccoli Michael Cook of Deerfield Beach was indulging two timeless rituals at once on Sunday night. In a jam-packed parking lot across Biscayne Boulevard from AmericanAirlines Arena, the 47-year-old graphic designer had the basic pre-event tailgate party going on and, in keeping with the spirit of the evening, a drum circle. Cook, nicknamed "Tie-Dye," sat in a lawn chair by the open hatch of his Jeep Cherokee and tapped rhythmically on a djembe, a keg-sized African drum made of animal skin, wood and rope. Next to him, also on djembe, was Flora Rosenbloom of Philadelphia. Both were here to see Phish, the rock group from Vermont that has cultivated a fan base so large and loyal the parking-lot pageants at its gigs recall the touring heyday of Cook's most beloved band: the Grateful Dead. "I'm a Deadhead from back in the day, and this is my first [Phish] show," said Cook. "But it's all part of the same circle." The circle was expanding rapidly on Sunday as thousands of Phish-heads streamed into downtown Miami for the first of four sold-out concerts on consecutive days, the last on New Year's Eve. This is the Vermont quartet's first visit to South Florida since December 1999, when Phish rang in the new millennium with more than 75,000 spectators in the Everglades -- estimates go as high as 90,000 -- at the Big Cypress Seminole Indian Reservation. The urban setting for this year-end stand, and the lack of nearby campgrounds, has not deterred fans. Eric Bresler, the arena's director of marketing, said 18,000 people will attend each show through Wednesday, putting overall turnout in the same range as the Everglades bash and making this the best-attended event by any one band at AmericanAirlines Arena. "It's phenomenal," Bresler said. A night with Phish, now 20 years old, typically begins with a gathering outside the venue -- a mobile flea market of sorts called a "lot scene" by regulars who trail the group from show to show. People from across the country bartered tickets, and vendors in tented booths sold tie-dyed clothing, curios and vegan sushi. A South Beach artist named Cheshire spray-painted psychedelic landscapes on tagboard and then lit them ablaze -- not to destroy his creations but to bake their surfaces dry. Also plentiful was a less regulated trade in cigarettes. Travelers sold cartons and single packs to raise money for their tickets, gas, food, lodging and adventures in Miami. Scraps of overheard conversation suggested everyone on hand, whether they carpooled or flew, was finding their own fun: "Free soap! ... Tickets! ... We just made friends with a homeless guy!" The culture that rose up around the Grateful Dead seems to have become a permanent population, waiting only for newer bands such as Phish to come in and lead the crowd. Phish went on shortly after 8 p.m. Cheers enveloped singer-guitarist Trey Anastasio, keyboardist Page McConnell, bassist Mike Gordon and drummer Jon Fishman as they walked on stage. Without a word, they strapped on instruments, eased into a brief tune-up and opened the four-night stand with a song called David Bowie. The tune -- a tribute more in name than sound to the dapper British rocker -- mixed a few brief, shouted lyrics and the long, improvisational stretches that invite comparisons between Phish and the Grateful Dead. "I saw my first Grateful Dead concert in 1985 at Red Rocks in Colorado," said Chi Green, 34, from Orlando. "And then Phish came along." Green has transferred his youthful experience with a Dead show to a lasting appreciation of Phish. "I wish I could be here all four nights," he said. His friend, 24-year-old Dena Michaels of Orlando, was more restrained with her endorsement. "I'm here because he's here," Michaels said. "And he's obsessed." Article Copyright © 2003 Sun Sentinel