Okay, so I know it wasn’t -really- Bob Dylan

But it might as well have been.  Me and Bob.  We hung out together for a whole day.  It wasn’t because I won a contest.  It wasn’t for any reason at all.  It was just because it happened that way. 

Have you ever been to a furniture store with Bob Dylan? 

Have you ever heard one of the world’s most famous figures announce who he is to a guy standing in the doorway and have people chuckle and laugh and go on about their business? 

It turned from a furniture store into a coffin store. 

“Baby there’s one kinda favor I’ll ask of you…  see that my grave is kept clean.”

Okay, so try explaining to Dylan that you are a Dylan fan, but your years and your budget haven’t really allowed you to procure every one of his 568 albums (ballpark estimate, wink wink).  Explain to him that it wasn’t really until you were fourteen (fourteen!) that you began to listen to the tunes and enter into their magic.

I tried that.  Even as I said the words I knew it was just ego.  He didn’t seem to have time for it.

So, we’re on a plane headed for somewhere.  I can only suppose we were going to Minneapolis and Bob was heading home.  He said, “I wish I had more time to spend with ya.”  So I said, “Any parting words?”  I’m Esau, begging for Isaac’s blessing, even though long ago I’ve sold my birthright for a bowl of soup.

I wait.  Bob reaches down someplace deep inside.  He is as empty as he was at the lifetime achievement award when he forgot some jewel of wisdom that his “daddy told [him] one time.” 

I find some words for him.  Was it to save some embarrassment?  Was it really because it was my dream and one of my ‘characters’ forgot their lines?  Was it because they are what he would have said, or what He would have said, the Message-giver that has so often spoken  through Bob?

I tried these words on for size:  “Fight the good fight. Finish the race.  Keep the faith.”  He seemed mildly satisfied, but those weren’t the words.  Too afraid of the silence, I offered up some other words:  “Fight for it with everything you’ve got.  And don’t fight at all.”

He raised one eyebrow.  Interested.  I said, “It’s like, fight as hard you can, but fight in the right ways.  Don’t fight in the wrong ways.” 

He smiled.  It was good enough for him. 

And then, I don’t know what happened.  Did he roll off?  Did he blow away?   I wish I had more time with you, too, Bob.  I wish we all did.

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