Master Blueprints # 44: "I Can Write You Poems, make a Strong Man Lose His Mind, I’m No Pig Without a Wig, I Hope You Treat Me Kind”

(Personal reflections inspired by Bob Dylan songs)

Song: “High Water (for Charley Patton)”
Album: “Love and Theft”
Release Date: September 2011

One of my favorite sketches on Saturday Night Live was back in the late 70s, when Don Novello would don priestly garb and morph into the fictional character Father Guido Sarducci, employed as the gossip columnist for the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano (this in and of itself is a hilarious thought). Sarducci poked fun at the Catholic Church, but in an enchanting way that often allowed for more than a hint of respect, and even reverence. One of his best skits was when he explained what it takes to be deemed worthy for sainthood by the Holy See, one criteria of which was that you needed to have performed at least 3 miracles to even be considered.  He went on, in his classic straight-faced way, to complain of a European bias (particularly Italy) stating that in other parts of the world, someone can perform 10, 20 miracles and be ignored, where in Europe you perform just one miracle… “and they wave the other 2 miracles”.  Funny stuff.

Other than learning of Jesus’ life in the catechism classes of my youth, this was my bizarre introduction to the concept of miracles, in terms of really thinking about it.  “Miracle” is defined in the dictionary as “a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency”.  Do you believe in miracles?  I do.  I started to - from a grown up, analytical point of view - around the time of watching that Father Guido Sarducci skit.  Such a strange way to start believing in miracles, huh? At the time, I began thinking along the lines of ‘well, if someone is true to their belief system, and if they are spiritually enlightened, they can do things that are indeed inexplicable’.

Now, I very much wish I could go all wiggy here and write about miracles that have happened in my life, but I can’t because those top tier miraculous moments have been elusive to date.  However, I have gotten little tastes of it here and there; mini-miracles so to speak.  Hard to explain phenomenon.  Amazing experiences. Happenings. I’m sure everybody reading this has too.  I mean, life can be incredible at times, can it not?  We can all relate to this, be it in the context of love, prayer, dreams, coincidences, déjà vu, nature, travel, you name it.  I’ve learned over the years that if you are attentive to these possibilities, great things can happen.

This year I’ve been zoned into these types of experiences at an accelerated rate, and I credit this Blue Print series. I’m sure that my reflecting and writing, as well as the intensity of listening to Bob Dylan’s music, have been what has made me more tuned to them (I’ll also credit some of the great feedback I’ve received from you all).  This week was up there on the bizzaro-meter.  What follows are a few 'telltale' examples.

Wednesday night (11/28) I attended a fantastic Joan Osborne concert at the Wilbur Theatre in Boston with my great friend, Mac.  The show was a tribute to Bob Dylan, and his songs were all that Osborne and her band performed that evening.  They tackled an incredible diversity of Dylan’s music, including highlights “Maggie’s Farm”, “Ring Them Bells”, and an intense extended jam of the tragic tale “Ballad of Hollis Brown” (proving to me that this singer and her band were serious). 

For me the best head-shaking experience of the evening was when, between songs, Joan Osborne talked about the 2001 Bob Dylan album “Love and Theft”, which she stated has had a tremendous effect on her.  I was sitting there thinking ‘ok, very cool…. not a highly recognized Dylan album in terms of covers, but that’s the disc I’ve homed in on this week’.  I had bounced all over the place with a Blue Print song selection from it, each of the 12 being as magnificent as the other.  Earlier that day - the day of Joan Osborne’s show - I’d finally made the decision, “High Water (for Charley Patton): ” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fdqF4XIUsE ).  And wouldn’t ya know it; that was the song she announced, and then performed with passion.  It was my favorite song of the show, partly because I’d felt I had made some sort of inexplicable connection with Osborne.  I consider that a Happening. I'm sure anyone who has attended concerts routinely over the years can understand what I mean.

There was another bizarre moment Wednesday night; I got to see Bob Dylan disappear... for the second time in a week!  This one obviously needs more detailed explanation than usual.  I'll tackle the first event first, which many others saw too; no real shock here.  So, I’ve recently found out that Dylan has a reputation for vanishing in crowds. I’m not surprised, seeing as I can relate (personal vanishing acts for another time).  And, as Wade Boggs once stated when being attacked by a knife-wielding antagonist (ok, his wife), sometimes you just gotta “will yourself invisible”.  Anyhow, I was reading about this Dylan alchemy in Sam Shepard’s mercurial The Rolling Thunder Logbook over the prior weekend.  At the very same time, I had the T.V. blaring and an ad for that night’s The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon came on, which to my pleasant surprise, was going to include a rare Bob Dylan appearance.  Would it be an interview?  A performance?  I could not determine. I stayed up and, sure enough there was a Dylan moment – a skit - which fascinatingly included a vanishing act: ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0hxHE_UK6Q ). (Side Note: The link is worth a watch.  It’s short and sweet.  Also note, I was particularly impressed by the steadiness in that 77-year-old hand as Dylan poured and drank whiskey with Fallon).

Flash forward several days back to that Joan Osborne show.  This guy is sitting in the front row and I’m telling you, he’s a spitting image of Bob Dylan: Curly puffed hair, wiry in mannerism and the way he walks, slender, dressed in classy, star studded garb. Face, nose, everything.  I spotted him right off and joked with Mac that the band hired this Dylan clone to sit there, who was nodding in appreciation to most every song.  So, there’s a break in the action, just before intermission, and I seize the moment to head down to the restroom before the crowd.  Mac takes the initiative as well.  The two of us are there in the men’s room, no one else around, when, wouldn’t you know it, the Bob Dylan clone strolls in and ponies up at the 3^rd urinal.  This was too good to be true.  I made a comment about having the opportunity to take a leak with Bob.  I thought I spotted a smirk.  Then, we all head back up to the main event, but this guy makes a beeline outside.  It ends up he would be gone for the night.  I just caught him out of the corner of my eye as he maneuvered out the venue.  Vamoose! “I’m Not There” folks; “I’m Not There”!

This kinda thing has been happening to me all year, from Big Pink, to Hibbing to Albuquerque, to Baltimore, to my commutes to and from work, to my weekend activities at home. The blog stories are coming to me now too. Several months ago, I was concerned about inspiration and fresh ideas, but not anymore. Things are rolling in at a quick pace.  Carrying on this Happening theme:  After finishing Sam Shepard’s book, I picked up the thought-provoking Robert M. Pirsig’s book Lila: An Inquiry into Morals, which was the long-awaited sequel to his master work Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. 

I’m still early into Lila, which, as stated in the title, is a tale woven around the concept of morality (where Zen is woven around the concept of quality).  One of the narratives that Pirsig introduces early in the book relates to how modern American culture is a blending of Native American and European values, personified in the Midwesterner.  American’s who live in that region of the country have shared experiences with Native American people the most.  All of this, Pirsig argues, has played out in our attitudes toward Europe and in our politics, to this day.

I would not do justice to explaining this further other than to suggest you read the book.  What I will state however, is that this Pirsig narrative had me harkening back to my most recent blog entry before this one (Blueprint # 43); that cowboy-hat-wearing escapade of mine with my wife Nancy to Big Bend National Park in Texas many years ago.  In that entry I suggested that, in wearing the hat, I was in search of an America that once was, or maybe never was. 

Sometimes you just reach a point reading a book where your mind begins to wander way too much. Obviously, I’d reached that point as these thoughts floated in several nights back, so I closed the book, turned off the night light and reflected on all this.  Suddenly what came to mind was how I met Nancy; at a Halloween party.  She was dressed as a Native American woman!  The cowboy hat, the quest, the Pirsig insights. It all dovetailed in that moment.  This was a beautiful thing I thought:  Modern American culture as a blending of Native American and European values transitioned to a personal analogy of marriage as a blending of two individual’s values.  I would never have pulled this thought process together without having written that blog entry last week.  Another Happening is my conclusion.  And what’s more fascinating is that this value-system all played out wonderfully on a road trip Nancy and I took this weekend to Asbury Park and Greenwich Village (the 3^rd and final Dylan pilgrimage of my Dylan year).  I’ll have to save the elucidation on that one for next week, seeing as it’s in need of a blog entry all its own. 

I’d like to close with some thoughts related to the album “Love and Theft”, as well as this week’s Blueprint from it: “High Water (for Charley Patton)”.  If any album epitomizes Bob Dylan’s sleight of hand, it should be “Love and Theft”.  The Dylan look-alike who vanished into the night air halfway through the Joan Osborne set on Wednesday, as well as the real Bob Dylan’s escapades on The Tonight Show last weekend, pretty much sums up the effect of this album.  Dylan produced it under his pseudonym ‘Jack Frost’.  He also released a cool little commercial for it with card shark Ricky Jay ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRo3r8g-w30 ).  It all fits, including the lyrics to every song.

When I first heard “Love and Theft” I was not overly impressed.  It sounded like an old-timer album to me.  Images of a late career, overweight BB King sitting on a bar stool danced in my head.  I simply was not ready for that type of sound back in my early 40s. Not enough high water under the bridge I suppose.  It took a while, but I’m certainly all the way there now.  I wrote about “Mississippi” way back in Master Blueprint # 2, one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs of all time.  “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum” has been climbing my personal fav ladder too, as has “Po’ Boy”.  “Things Have Changed”, a song not on the album, but a prelude to its attitude, is also extraordinary ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9EKqQWPjyo ).  I’d love to figure a way to do a writeup on that one.  Side Note: Has anyone else out there tuned into the ominous hissing sound that rears its head off and on during “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum”.  It sounds like either 1) someone breathing through his teeth to convey anxiety 2) a balloon deflating and/or 3) a snake hissing.  One place you can hear it is at the beginning of the 8^th verse while Bob Dylan sings the line “Tweedle Dee’s on his hands and knees”.

And now “High Water (for Charlie Patton)” has seeped its way deep into my inner consciousness.  The song is loosely about the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 (as well as an ode to one of the original bluesman, Charlie Patton), but more to the point it’s about sin and redemption.  Most of the song drags the protagonist down into those nasty proverbial floodwaters.  But in the end, there’s some hope for this lost soul.  Yessiree, Bob, everyone, there’s always a little room for redemption.

Larry Campbell plays an incredibly authentic banjo on “High Water”.  It sounds as if he were channeling a far distant Blues period.  I connected briefly with Campbell earlier this year after catching one of his shows (with Teresa Williams) at the Bull Run in Shirley Massachusetts.  I pulled out an inner sleeve album photo of him playing poker on the tour bus, sitting next to Bob Dylan, who appeared to be raking in the chips (it occurred to me just before the show to bring it in from my car).  I asked Larry Campbell what he may have been thinking at that moment.  He laughed and said, “I can’t tell you”.  This was the perfect reply, all that mystique still intact: Sleight of hand, vanishing acts, cowboy hats.  Happenings cropping up all around him at a torrid pace; too fast to make sense of. 

Yeah, after the past week, I’m not ruling out anything.

- Pete