“The only people who are gonna succeed, really, are the people who are sayin’ somethin’ that is given to them to say. I mean, you can only carry “Tutti Frutti” so far.” ~ Bob Dylan
Dear Bobby,
You conjurer of quiet and raucous ballads, you audacious poet, you semi-mystical snake charmer, you eclectic shocker, you unpredictable consoler, you itinerant folksinger, you – dubbed the icon of my generation, you who inspired me to pick up a used Martin at the Denver Folklore Center on Pearl Street and turn myself over to Harry Tuft to be instructed in the proper techniques; we, you and I, have traveled some bumpy, divergent roads through some hard rains since the nights at “The Exodus” folk club in Denver. Somewhere along the way I lost touch with you, so I was pleasantly surprised to run into you again – this week – at this venue – in this essay at FirstThings.com, written by Sean Curnyn (who’s also writing a book on the political and moral themes in your work) The Pope and the Pop Star.
God willin’ we may yet meet again some day, say like in the Grand Canyon at sunset where Woodie is waiting for you. In the meantime, I hope you keep listen’ to what He has to give you and share it with the rest of us.
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