Bob Dylan- A Perspective

I’m sitting here on the deck in the back yard of my house and considering the career of Bob Dylan. He’s been around for nearly 50 years and last year had a number one album, called Modern Times.  He became the oldest person to have a #1 album, ever. Quite an accomplishment, if you ask me.

Through the years, we have seen Dylan go through different persona as he encountered life and all that life can hand us. He has been an angry activist, poet, beard, lonesome traveler, born again Christian, Hasidic Jewish mystic, angry middle-aged critic and now a weary but wiser old man. The battles he has faced are fewer now, but no less important or tiring as they once were.

He voice seems weary and broken and his youthful looks have taken on the look of the scarecrow that has been crumpled by the Wicked Witch of the West. Still, he keeps on keeping on.

These days, his lyrics are simple, but sometimes majestic. They no longer have the surrealistic cast as they once did in the ’60’s, or the philosophic denseness of the ’70’s. Yet, the poetry stands out, solemn but true. As if he cut out all the imagery and decided to just tell us the real story that he sees in his eyes.

Yet, the words still carry a meaning that is much more than what passes for meaning in songs today.  They are simple and telling, looking for lost love, lost dreams and often finding them in a working mans boots or on a last train pulling out of some misplaced town.

Sitting here in my back yard, with my cup of tea in hand, watching the sun ease down along the horizon, I can say that I grew up with Dylan; He doesn’t replace God or the angels or family. To me he was like a lot of my friends and myself. Trying to make sense of this journey called life. The Only thing is that he could relate to life with a little poetry and song.


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