On this night, the band seems to still be ironing out their sound, reminding themselves of the lyrics, and getting used to playing with each other once again at the beginning of 1988, this being the third show of the year. The Dear Mr. Fantasy is probably the standout of the show.
One poster on Archive, "EABOD," remarks that he was at the show up close with "an old hippy dude who was right next to me the whole show. He was very calm & cool, but during Dear Mr. Fantasy he just started going bananas. At first I was taken aback but then I thought he is right this is super hot and I better join in with him." I don't know if you will actually go bananas when you listen to the tune now, but you still might feel a little tingle run up your spine. Even on a middling night for the band, the Dead still spewed the magic.