(or, One Of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later))
How to pay tribute to one of my very favourite octogenarians? well, Dylan is a 1537 family affliction.
My aunt remembers sitting on the stairs outside her older brother (my dad’s) room listening to him listening to the early Dylan albums and ‘wishing I was old enough to be part of everything Dylan said life could be’. I think that is quite beautifully put.
My granny went to the Isle of Wight festival in 1969 solely to see Dylan, my parents told me they remember thinking ‘My God! she can’t go, she’s over 40! She might die!’. She didn’t die, she saw him and loved him*.
My mum, with whom I sometimes communicate solely through the medium of Dylan lyrics, dreamed about him on the eve of his birthday. Face to face with the voice of her generation, a man who fired her imagination to vertiginous heights and who’s art lit up the possibilities of a life lived less ordinarily, all she could think to say was ‘I’ve made you some parsnip soup‘.
To which the voice of her generation, a man who fired her imagination to vertiginous heights and who’s art lit up the possibilities of a life lived less ordinarily replied, ‘What is a parsnip?‘
Makes you think doesn’t it? after all, what is a parsnip when you really consider it deeply? I guess that is how you earn a Nobel prize**.
1076 Down (still).
PS: Have been playing this over and over and over for the last few days. Parsnips may in fact be the only thing Dylan doesn’t mention in the lyrics.
*and the Moody Blues apparently.
**and more prestigiously the 1537 #1 LP of 2020.
