Happy birthday, Bob

You don’t know me, but I’ve listened to your music from the beginning. I liked everything about it until one day you switched to rock. Too many joints that day, Bob? I came back later and I’m still here except now I’m too hard of hearing to listen to music. Wanted to hear “Rough and Rowdy Ways.” No dice, don’t think twice, it’s wall right.

Back in the old days, I wanted to write you a letter demanding that you stay away from Joanie. She didn’t know me either, but I also listened to her music from the beginning. While riding on a train goin’ west. I fell asleep for to take my rest. I dreamed a dream that made me sad, concerning Joan Baez who said the war was bad but that we weren’t destined to protest it on the same streets on the same days.

Everything I did for years seemed to have one of your songs or Joanie’s songs tied to it. The songs didn’t cause me to do what I did; they just seemed to fit my prevailing moods. Yet, I always wanted to escape the constraints of college and follow Mr. Tambourine Man. I listened for that jingle-jangle world before heading out to my paper route into the realities of Betton Road and Randolph Circle.

And today you’re still here. That makes me happy because so many people are gone by now. I may be nearly deaf, but I still hear your music in my mind. All of it. Thanks for all that. Oh, and congrats on the Prize, you know which one I mean.


Malcolm R. Campbell

Publisher: Thomas-Jacob Publishing


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