Sunday, November 15, 2015

It Takes a Lot to Laugh (For Bobby)

The way he says baby just kills me dead.
He returns from Newport tongue on fire.
Something’s changed, something’s happening here.

We sin, repent, gargle in the rat race choir.
And we spare no expense when it’s someone else’s money or creativity.
But Dylan he’s cut from an entirely poles apart cloth and the medicine he was mixing up in ’65 and ‘66 is like nothing heard before or since.

We travel the roadways and byways believing we’re something special, something exceptional when nothing could be further from the truth.
I believe America is afraid of its own shadow. I believe ISIS or ISIL or whatever you choose to call them has got our number and if we’re not careful they’ll shake us to our very foundation.
I also believe the world will not tolerate intolerance for long and when push finally comes to shove we’ll slay these fire breathing dragons because that’s what knights in shining armor do.

He stands tall in that studio like a traveling salesman or besmirched romantic.
I have a friend named Jerry whose sideburns are legendary and when he sings like a bird I discover myself no longer walking in the darkness alone.
Oh yes “If I was a master thief perhaps I’d rob them,” but your heartbreaks are none of my business so I’ll just stand over here all by my lonesome and bowl a strike or two in your spare time.

The way he delivers the word winning restores my faith in humankind because the past is ours to acknowledge or dispel at our own detriment.
Bob Johnston seems like a better fit as a new day rained down upon them like user-friendly lightning bolts from a love-struck God.
When Dylan’s in the zone there’s no one better equipped at shining a light on all of the possibilities that were not even imaginable until he entered the studio.

“It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry” and I’m quite certain this is true no matter what side you’re on.
Bobby navigates these inroads better than anyone because he’s not afraid to succeed or fail on his own terms as he sacrifices everything including his wellbeing.
There are many rock ‘n’ roll animals, but none of them seem as hungry or as literal as Dylan when he’s firing on all cylinders.

Charles Cicirella

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