Bob Dylan
.
.
“Bob Dylan”, he said. “You musta’ heard a’ him.”
“Sure, I heard a’ him. He sings songs done’ he?”
The question in his voice kind of riled me. “A’ course he’s a singer, fool!”
I kinda’ liked Bob Dylan. He said things in a way I liked.
“Well, what of him anyways?”
“Bob Dylan said, ‘The times they are a’ changin’ and that is true now.”
“Come gather ’round people, Wherever you roam And admit that the waters, Around you have grown.” I couldn’t help my self from interjecting a little more substance to the conversation.
“Yes, that’s right, it’s an anti-war song I think.”
“Aha, yes I surely heard a’ that bastard song! Yes, I have.”
“Well, then you oughta know what he says later in that same song. ‘And don’t criticize what you can’t understand, Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command, your old road is rapidly agin’.”
“Yes, I heard that song, I surely did.”
Melvyn and Caleb would dis-cuss matters in this way quite frequently. I was used to these kinds of discussions, so I was not troubled too greatly by it.
“So then, don’t.”
“Don’t what? What am I supposed to have done anyhow?”
“Well now, I wonder?”
“Don’t criticize what you c ‘ain understand, fool!”
I didn’t like to say, ‘Don’t call me no fool in anger, man.”
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writtenbyedenbray28.12.2017
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https://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2016/10/bob-dylan-nobel-prize-blonde-on-blonde