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.
--well i hate to repeat myself but for the third time i will anyway, and then i'll shuddup. There's some kind of joke going on here, in the subtext. The backwards hat is the pointer. Maybe it's just the camera right in front and never moving, and Dylan staring right at you from about the diameter of a card table. The song is a rock & roller, the band is phenominal (wish the lead guitar's fretboard wasn't juuuust out of sight behing BD's right shoulder, but small taters), and when it ends, the singer looks around at the band as if he's surprised to find himself where he is.
That single fixed close-up POV is weirdly familiar, tho i've never seen it before. Then it dawns, it's the distance and body-language/facial expression of a conversation, a guy telling you a story in a bar with a live act going on behind the two of you. That's why he looks around behind him after the song --like the guy telling you the story would do when the music stopped.