Free wheelin again

 

 

The Dylan movie still haunts me.

Maybe it's because I always wanted to be him, or to live the life he lived. As with the Beatles, his music made up the sound track of my life.

I didn't like his first album, but then, I suspected, neither did he.

But Free Wheelin knocked me over.

I was 13 years old, living in my grand parent's house, not yet knowing that I already had history with Dylan since my mother was in Graystone Park during Dylan's visits to Woody Gutheri – and it is possible I passed him during many visits to see my mother without knowing it.

When I heard Dylan's music I convinced myself that I might someday become a folk singer, and tried my best to learn the songs on Free wheelin on my uncle's jumbo Guild guitar.

In those days and up until the early 1970s, no coffee house performer could avoid doing Dylan's music – or for that matter many of the other performers that once made up the heart of the Greenwich Village scene in the 1950s and early 1960s.

I avoided learning Suzanne only because so many other people did it, and it was incrediably long.

While some of Dlyan's songs were also long, they seemed to have more substance. Some songs were too difficult for me to play (and still am) because I was never really a musician, but this did not keep me from trying, playing out in some venues near Paterson such as the Bottom of the Barrell on the border of Haledon in 1972-73 – by which time Dylan had evolved into a whole different performer with things like Tangled up in Blue.

Dylan's Lay Lady Lay became a haunting anthemn for my time in the army in the late 1960s.

While I loved his eletric shift, I was never good enough to be able to perform those songs, and clung to many of his earlier work – yes, even Blowin in the Wind (though I liked other songs of his better).

I tried to write songs of my own like his, but could never manage to capture an era the way he did. Even his small personal songs were far beyond my capability.

I lived and hung out in the Village for a brief time he was there, and later, visited Woodstock when he was rumored to still reside there as well.

Dylan music often filled the airwaves of WNEW when I worked in warehouses during the 1970s, part of the continuing sound track of a life I can't imagine living without him.

We all knew Dylan was not perfect, the movie hinting of some of this. He was a womanizer, a liar, a recluse and other things. He didn't seem to particularly like other people, except for a very small group.

He was moody even before he became famous. Few people realize just how huge he became, and how fame twists people. He like Elvis had to endure being bigger than god. At least, the Beatles had each other. But Dylan stood alone, and only many years later did I come to realize how painful fame can be, and how unfriendly, who to trust, how to survive,

I'm told these days, he never stops touring, perhaps getting fulfillment from the one aspect of his life that matters most: his music.

 


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