The Song and Dance Man

Since I’ve been quoting Dylan so madly on this blog, I believe it’s appropriate to make a mention of his recent acquisition – a special citation from the Pulitzer Board. Possibly that sort-of recognizes (if any was necessary, that is) his songs as 'literature' and will prompt the Swedish Academy to honour him in the near future for an award he was first nominated in 1996.

For one of the most profound songwriters, who has revolutionized the way songs are written, it's an honour most deserving and fitting. More than being just a great song and dance man, the most incredible aspect of his life is that it is in so many distinct stages. (For atleast six of them, see the film I'm Not There.)

A man of exceptional wit as well. It's a recent incident narrated by one of my classmates which I later googled and verified. At an L.A. Party, to which Dylan was invited, Peter Grant offered Dylan a warm handshake and introduced himself, "I'm Peter Grant, the manager of Led Zeppelin." Dylan replied, looking at him queerly, "I don't come to you with my problems, do I?".

And now for, what I believe, is a good observation on Bobby, Zimmy, or as George Harrison would like to call him, 'Lucky':

"He walks out there alone. He comes back off that stage alone. He writes those songs alone. He is his own man. He stands proud in his own shoes. He don't need nobody to do nothin'.."

- Carole Childs, as quoted in his biography by Howard Sounes, Down the Highway: The Life of Bob Dylan.