The Times They Are A-Changin' (and The Bard He Is A-Agin')

It doesn't seem right. I mean, the man is still hip! He's the host of his own satellite radio show. He still packs 'em in when he goes on tour. He may no longer write about rainy days in Juarez, rainy day women, diplomats riding on chrome horses, the Queens of Hearts (or Spades), or apocryphal encounters between God and Abraham, but the man is still goin' strong.

And tomorrow - are you sitting down? - is Bob Dylan's 65th birthday. He can finally retire and start collecting Social Security, if he so chooses. (I doubt he needs the extra income.)

In his hometown, they were hoping the birthday boy would bring it all back home to Hibbing MN (he probably won't). All the same, the local folk celebrated with a "bash" last Thursday night. (No, I didn't attend, although I would have loved to. Hibbing is a mere 3-1/2 hours north of here, and Thursday was a school night.)

Here at Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad, we'll be spinning his best: Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde On Blonde, Planet Waves, Blood On The Tracks... I wish I still had a copy of his classic live double-disc set with The Band, Before The Flood. (My copy was on cassette which, as most tapes eventually do, bit the dust a few years back. I'm far too cheap to shell out $30+ for a new copy on CD.)

So, tomorrow, wish Bob a Happy 65th Birthday. And when that classic rock radio station you listen to at work plays "Like A Rolling Stone" or "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" (sandwiched between unhealthy overdoses of Styx, Boston and Led Zeppelin), turn it up a bit. But not too much. Some folks' ears still haven't adapted to that nasal Iron Range voice.