Monday, April 26, 2010

A Case of the Mondays

I realized today that I get headaches fairly often, at least once a week. However, it was brought to my attention that the reoccurring headaches I get seem to always fall on a Monday. I'm not sure if this is entirely true every week, but it makes sense.
My only day off is Sunday so naturally Mondays are dreaded more than the other five days I work, not because I have more work on Monday, but because its just the beginning of a very long journey to the next day off.
Today's is particularly bad. And it technically started last night so this might not count as a "Monday-ache." I'm ready for this headache thing to subside...
Tomorrow is Tuesday, hopefully my body will understand it is not the day to have a headache. I guess I can schedule them for Mondays only, that would make my life a little easier.... If I have to have a headache, at least I would know it was coming.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

frustrations with the legend

I shall meet the demand...

We watched a movie this week directed by Martin Scorsese called No Direction Home: Bob Dylan. This movie really got my blood pumping. It made me want to grab my guitar and play songs that make people think, make people want to live with purpose. How could one man write words and present them in a way so revolutionary? Its interesting to think, after watching this movie, Bob Dylan would have hated what I just said about him. He wanted never to be called a Revolutionary Figure, or The Face of his Generation.... He hated the silliness of his publicity.

This video makes me frustrated. Why couldn't he just play music he loved and let his viewers love it back? Why did he make himself so complicated? "I am not a folk singer." Come on Bob, yes you are! What other category does your music fall under?! And pa-lease! Do not tell me you don't care about your music. Words that come out of your mouth are beautiful and thought provoking, let us appreciate your work rather than question ourselves for admiring it. You frustrate me as a musician and writer.

Even though Bob Dylan doesn't ever admit he is passionate about his music, I believe he is deep down. Without passion how could he write what he writes? I have to think he cares to some extent and if he doesn't I can no longer listen to his music.
He said once, "What good are fans? You cannot eat applause for breakfast. You cannot sleep with it." I guess his cynicism kept him humble.

Regardless of his religious views, political standpoint, musical talent, or public limelight, Bob Dylan has a mind that I am curious about. So curious it keeps me up at night, and maybe that is his goal. He gets under my skin and torments me and makes me stand in awe all at the same time. I don't think there is a musician in history that could do the same thing Bob Dylan has done. Nevertheless, I think he is foolish to make such ridiculous statements to reporters while being interviewed.

Despite all the questions he raised during the sixties, I think we call all learn from Dylan's work.

How many times must a man look up
before he can see the sky?
How many ears must one man have
before he can hear people cry?
How many deaths will it take till he knows
that too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.
The answer is blowing in the wind.

Bob, I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours.