We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Buddy is right: it took balls for a young kid - a boy, really, a recklessly-ambitious first-year college dropout - to do this old song on TV in 1963 (Bob's first TV performance). He used Woody as his adult accessory ego. Artists always do things like that, borrowing and stealing ego-ideals to help fill out their ever-growing selves.
Hermit Crabs, as I have often seen on Cape Cod, sometimes will take on a moon shell far too large for them to fill. They can hardly drag it across the mud. Eventually, if lucky, they grow into it. And, if luckier still, someday have to find a new larger shell to inhabit.
Bob will be forever an old soul, and forever young. Restless, wonderfully lost, and doing much of the seeking and searching for us drones.
--dang, BD --that's one cracklin' good intro. Esp the last sentence --lifts up and floats away, like the song --
That boy hits that harp HARD --not fooling around with fancy (when i first his harp playing, and compared it to the only other style in the air at the time, the blues harp virtuosos playing Delta and Chicago style, i was almost embarrassed for this Bob Dylan guy, whose effort seemed WAY amateur --of course, it never was meant to be bluesy at all, duh) and sings just a hair in front of the guitar --a sort of overdrive which changes --as BD notes --the old man in the ballad to a young man who somehow already has been around a long long time.
But you can really see it here --the essential Dylan talent --the song is always a question mark, but the performance of these 'where do i turn?' songs is always an exclamation point.
He leans back here and holds that high front end of the refrain, two bars, three, four --whew the confidence becomes an aura. And it makes a person feel good to see it, feel like if he --a non descript sort of fish out of show-biz water with a little of his singing kinda on the nasal side --can do it then i probably could too. And this feeling is 'approval' and an antenna like Dylan just receives it and rolls it right back out as the confidence that charms us so.
A life somehow leaked into a billion virtuous circles, scattered on all sides of the seven seas.
a mighty fine tribute in itself, your comment, buddy larsen.
this artist's eloquence is contagious to us all, because his humanity is plain to see, and his genius a mystery.
Thanks to BirdDog for another fine share of our favorite troubadour's repetoire. Mr.D plays it straight and it sounds just like the timeless original i remember.