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Bob Dylan -- 1962 The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan -- 1963 The Times They Are a-Changin' -- 1964 Another Side of Bob Dylan -- 1964 Bringing It All Back Home -- 1965 Highway 61 Revisited -- 1965 Blonde on Blonde -- 1966
1967
On December 8, 1970, R returned from Vietnam. He telephoned from San Francisco International Airport around 3 a.m. I drove north on Highway 101 in the darkness. It's a long story after that. The story isn't over. It continues one day at a time, 39 years to this day where Oboe looks into the early morning sun:
Am I my mind, I ask myself again and watch images that race beyond me into the crazy whirling mindless self that occupies the emptiness of me
(page 23)
1967
Today is the Feast of St. Nicholas. As I understand from what I've read, this is a secular holiday when celebrated in the Netherlands. It's a celebration "not about belief or non-belief, but a faith in the capacity of people to find pleasure in each other and in their lives." Those are the words of Tolbert McCarroll, the author of A Winter Walk.
where things were different than they always are here
(page 21)
1967
The album covers are getting ahead of the poetry, so I'm going to try something different -- posting the Bob Dylan album cover(s) that coincide with the time each poem was written. Otherwise, I'm all over the place emotionally, and my guess is that it is confusing to the reader. I may or may not go back and revise the previous posts. That's what I love about blogging. It gives me free rein in the creative process.
A few days ago, I became aware of water dripping from the ceiling near the desk where I usually work on my blog. While I was upstairs asking my neighbor to turn her water off, the light bulb in the fixture that lights my desk got wet and then exploded. I keep finding little pieces of glass in the vicinity of that light fixture. Fortunately, the water damage is minor; however, now there is a large noisy blue fan in my computer area, placed by water damage technicians. The fan is running 24 hours a day with the goal of drying the ceiling and the space above it. For the most part, Oboe and I are staying as far away from the fan as possible:
Toward the afternoon sky, the dream soared like a child's runaway kite ...
(page 17)
1967
Fifteen years ago, on the morning of December 3, 1994, my mother died suddenly and unexpectedly of a massive heart attack in Gualala, California. I remember driving around in a daze punctuated by waves of tears, listening to Bob Dylan's tape, "Oh Mercy," over and again. My mother loved "Ring Them Bells" from that tape. She loved that he sang, "Ring them bells so the world will know / That God is One." Although she didn't like Bob Dylan when I first began playing his albums in my bedroom in the summer of 1965, she did begin to like Joan Baez after Joan's only son was born. She related to Joan as a mother relates to another mother. In later years, she thanked me for introducing her to Bob Dylan's music. This is for you, Mom, with all my love:
Still makes me smile to remember that my mother liked "Ring Them Bells" so much that she wrote the lyrics out as she heard them and showed them to me. She wore a hearing aid and heard "lilies that bloom" as "sillies that goof."
Ring them bells St. Catherine From the top of the roof Ring them from the fortress For the sillies that goof
My guess is that my mother would have loved the video of Bob Dylan singing "Must Be Santa." My guess is that Richard would have, too. I can see and hear them laughing together.
May there always be laughter and sillies that goof!
