Summer means different things to different people. For some, it's hiking; for others, it's about surfing or reading or late nights at a beer garden jawing with old friends. For me, it's standing in the grass watching four aging dorks from Vermont play seemingly endless improvised jam-rock tunes with thousands of other sweaty obsessives.

Chances are you've noticed that Phish, the psychedelic act that keeps 1960s-style jam-band grooves alive for generations young and old, is touring yet again. Everyone has that one friend who clogs Instagram with selfies next to "transcending" dudes in cargo shorts, or, worse, repetitive shots of the complex lighting rig that envelops the stage. "Again?" you shout at your screen when yet another pic hits your feed. "He's seeing Phish again??!"

I hear this all the time because, alas, I am that friend. I've already seen Phish twice this summer and have tickets for at least one more show. I may squeeze a fourth in before Labor Day to tide me over until the four-night New Year's Eve set at Madison Square Garden. I remain undeterred from making the case for Phish. I'd like nothing more than to get other people to recognize what's going on at these gigs -- or, at the very least, pump the brakes on the hatemobile. To that end, here's the 101 about Phish, the greatest artistic enterprise in this or any other galaxy.