Tag Archives: peter paul and mary

Bob Dylan goes Senior Citizen

Hi readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

I’m not a person who toadies to celebrities.  I couldn’t care less what they say or think about anything, what they do with their genitalia, what they eat, drink, or snort.  If I like something they do on stage, on audio, on screen, that’s what gets my attention.  I mostly don’t read biographies, autobiographies, mostly don’t watch interviews.

With rare exceptions.  Leonard Cohen interests me.  Louden Wainwright III interests me, Guy Clark interests me, and Tom Russell interests me.  But Guy Clark and Leonard Cohen are the only ones I’d ever seen interviewed until now.

But I got to wondering whether Bob Dylan is still alive.  I first was introduced to his music at a place on Bleeker Street in Greenwich Village during the summer of 1964.  McDougal’s might have been the name of the place.  And same as everyone else at that time and place, I was blown away.

So I went to the miracle of YouTube and started searching, thinking at least to hear some good music.  And there they were, interviews with Bob Dylan, interviews with other people talking about Bob Dylan.  Dozens of them scattered over half-century.  So I picked a few, beginning with back when he was my age, 70 times around the sun.

Bob Dylan Interview and a very revealing one at that

For Bob Dylan it is Always the Same Interview 42 Years in 24 Minutes

Bob Dylan.Funny Interview.

I don’t care what the Beetles think, or thought about Bob Dylan, nor about anything else for that matter.  But they did have a few good songs, and maybe what they say about Dylan will interest someone.

The Beatles talk about Bob Dylan

John Lennon and Bob Dylan Conversation

Bob Dylan and John Lennon on God and Religion

Bob Dylan: San Francisco Press Conference (Dec. 1965) 1/6

Bob Dylan – After The Crash – 1966-1978 (Part 1 of 12).mp4

I never knew Dylan got religion, or whatever it was he got, but I’m glad for him, though I don’t care whether he did or not from the perspective of knowing about it.

Bob Dylan – The Gospel Interview

Bob Dylan 1966 Interview, WBAI

Bob Dylan – Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award – 1991 Grammy Awards

Dylan and I didn’t know it because we never got around to discussing the matter, but we shared a lot of respect for Johnny Cash.  Johnny Cash, I suppose, might qualify as another person I’d have possibly cared what he thought about some things.  If I’d ever met Dylan we could have regaled one another with Johnny Cash respect, I suppose.

Bob Dylan on Johnny Cash. NDH outtake

I’ve mentioned Loudon Wainwright III is one of the people I’m mildly interested in what they might say about something outside the context of a song.  Well, in this instance I didn’t have to look outside Loudon Wainwright’s music.  He wrote this song to Dylan on Dylan’s 50th birthday.

Loudon Wainwright III – Talking New Bob Dylan.wmv

The Simon and Garfunkel thing about Dylan has always seemed to me to be a cheap shot.  Dylan wrote the song that launched Simon and Garfunkel into fame.  Sound of Silence.  But when Dylan left ‘folk’ behind to invent ‘folk rock’ Simon and Garfunkel got offended enough to personally attack him in song:  Bastards, both of them.  Screw them, though they did one-hell-of-a-lot of great songs.  If they’d kept their nasty little comments off their albums I’d never have known.  Pricks.

Simon & Garfunkel – A Simple Desultory Philippic (or How I Was Robert McNamara’d into Submission)

The Sound of Silence (Original Version from 1964)

Peter, Paul and Mary got pretty pissed when Dylan drifted to folk rock, too.  I saw an interview with one of the guys several years later in which he said it was the only really nasty attack song they ever recorded, and that they all regretted it.  Something about what he said made me thing it was directed at Dylan.  Listen to the words carefully to hear the sarcasm “between the lines”.  But at least they did it with some class.  They made a lot of money and miles off Bob Dylan creations.

I dig rock n roll music

So I think I’ll just toadie to Loudon Wainwright’s birthday tribute to Bobby Dylan and make a wish when I think he’s blowing out the candles in the wind:  “Here’s hoping you outlive me Bobby Dylan.  I’d like an excuse to begin my next lifetime in time to hear what you do after I exit the vehicle.”

Old Jules

Half-Century of Male Evolution – Bullying Part 3

I’m going to get away from the brave new world of the 21st Century and the animal kingdom for this segment and go back a few million years to my childhood.  I explained a little about that farm on the other side of the railroad tracks here:  Could you choose to live on the street?, but to pursue the bullying issue I’ll elaborate a bit.

The kids who lived on the other side of those tracks were overwhelmingly tough, poor, and ‘bad’.  The families were farm laborers or otherwise unskilled, lots of kids, and Hispanic or considered ‘white trash’.  The kids living there went to Lindsey Grammar School, and the RR tracks defined the boundary between Lindsey and the other two grammar schools.

In 1949, when I was starting school my mother went to war with the superintendent of schools and the school board to make certain I went to East Ward, not Lindsey.  She succeeded.

Meanwhile, on this side of the tracks and the highway there were a few neighborhoods of kids who belonged in Lindsey, but were doomed by geography to go to school with the regular population at East Ward.  One of those was a boy named Floren Villianueva and his siblings.  A tough, bad, mean as hell youngster with older brothers meaner than him.  He and I entered the first grade in the same class.

Floren and I somehow got crosswise with one another almost the first day of classes during recess.  He gave me a blow to the stomach that knocked the wind out of me, doubled me over and might well have been responsible for the hernia of the goozle that’s caused me trouble to this day.

After school each afternoon Floren and his brothers walked home the same route I did, and for a few days they went the extra distance to chase me home, throwing rocks at me when they couldn’t catch me, beating hell out of me when they could.  Me finding safety only when I went through the door to the house.

That naturally came to the attention of my mom after a few days.  One afternoon she was standing on the porch shaking a rug and saw me running across the tracks chased by Floren and his brothers.  They came right into the yard, and she grabbed a broom and chased them off, yelling insults.

When they were gone she turned on me in a fit of rage, grabbed me by the ear and dragged me into the house where she kept her switch.  While she was beating hell out of me she was yelling, “If I ever see or hear of you running from a fight again this is nothing compared to what you’ll get.”

When my step-dad got home she told him about it and he just shook his head.  “Running from a bunch of God-damned Mexicans!” 

I went about in disgrace a few days, the story circulating among the adults with me in hearing distance, all of them dumbfounded by my cowardice.

But I never ran from a fight again.  I started carrying a heavy stick with me walking home and only had to whack one of those other kids upside the head with it one time.  Afterward Floren and I fought a lot of times during recess and I never whipped him, but I took the beatings rather than the alternatives.

This is too lengthy for me to continue where I’m going with it, but it’s necessary background to get in place before going forward in this segment.

Old Jules