The Power of No. You will disappoint many. You will be alone often. You will have few adventures, go to fewer parties. Maybe no parties. You will be considered a bit surly and weird. You will have more time to explore your inner landscape. What you find there, might be interesting, but you won't really have anyone to share it with. If you sing a song it will be: "I Didn't Do it My Way, I Mean I just Didn't Do it."
The Power of Maybe. You try to keep all doors and options open. You never please anyone, rarely even yourself. You think about adventures, you waffle back and forth, "yes?" "No?" "Maybe so?" You think about going to parties, or not going to parties. You just sit and think. You punt. You put off. You decide, why decide? Maybe another day? The days run away like wild horses. You watch them run away. You are always conflicted. Maybe this, maybe that. Maybe, maybe not.
The a.m. soundtrack - Bob Dylan's "Slow Train Coming." (1979) When it came out I was thoroughly appalled. Dylan as a born-again, righteous, bible-thumper? Yikes. I wasn't having any of it. This morning the record sounds tremendous. Dylan as Fire & Brimstone Preacher. Another Dylan mask. A powerful, inspiring burst of creativity. Great songwriting. Great band. Mark Knopfler on snaky, slithery, electric guitar. Fabulous female backup singers. Recorded live, and beautifully, at Muscle Shoals in Alabama. Produced by the legendary Jerry Wexler. Supposedly, Dylan was at sea, grasping at straws, reeling from a divorce and substance abuse, and one day he found Jesus. He adopted a truly dark apocalyptic code. This was Old Testament, mysterious, Book of Revelations shite. A bleak and foreboding God of Judgment and Justice. Not much love and forgiveness in the mix. Think: plagues, rains of frogs, dogs walking backwards, flames of hell and damnation. Jesus coming back to sit on a throne. What cooky, fucking strange, madness. Still, Dylan sings with complete passion, and he brings it all off with style, panache, gusto. Pretty amazing shite.
