Let me try to convey to you how weird it feels to be going to a Bob Dylan concert tonight.
All my life, or all the time that I’ve “known” Dylan, I’ve thought of him as the epitome of “elusive.” His song lyrics are mysterious, his life is mysterious… he is clearly a genius, and it’s not likely that you get to be somewhere watching a genius on a stage. You especially don’t expect to be watching one who has so rejected public opinion of himself and of his songs, one who has never bought into the idea of a rock star, let alone fit any stereotype.
I’ve always thought I had more of a chance of seeing Paul McCartney (famous and removed from my typical life as he is) than Bob [f*cking] Dylan. Dylan, I thought, would never stoop so low as to come to our little hamlet, or even put on a show that was affordable and not too private.
Three hours before the show starts, it’s finally sinking in that I will get to hear songs I never thought I’d hear live by the original artist himself. In mere hours I will have a memory bank of these songs that, til now, I had only heard on recordings. Amazing.