[lit-ideas] a must not hear
- From: Eric Yost <mr.eric.yost@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2005 11:54:59 -0400
Though I understand why people are not fans of Dylan's music, I
don't really
understand.
I can't stand more than three seconds of Dylan's music. Here's why.
A long time ago, lovesick, heartbroken, nerves shattered, I went
to visit a friend at the sea shore. It was probably a bad idea to
travel when so miserable, but my friend had invited me to his
house and suggested the change would do me good.
It was winter. The house was on the beach. The sound of the surf
constant, as was the opaline sky, the absent sun circulating like
the pressure point of a headache. I kept to myself mostly, slept
late, went for long walks along the beach at night.
On the second day, I tried to talk out my misery with my friend.
I must have been insufferable to listen to. How many ways can you
complain that a woman does not love you? How long can anyone
listen to such complaints?
The next evening there was a winter storm. It was then that my
friend decided I had to listen to Bob Dylan. I remember sitting
at a table for about six hours too depressed to move. Over and
over, the same Bob Dylan tape played.
"Jack of Hearts...carpenter's wives."
The nasal wheeze of Dylan's singing. The smug platitudinous
lyrics. The clanging backup music. Repeating and repeating as in
some personal hell. My friend's hospitality convincing me of an
unbridgeable gap between people.
"Jack of Hearts...carpenter's wives."
The next morning I woke early, thanked my host, and drove, drove,
drove. Hours and hours away from the cold sea and Bob Dylan. No
Bob Dylan. No Bob Dylan. No Bob Dylan ever again.
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