A legend, an inspiration...

The day was dreary, cloudy, drizzling at times, but that didn't dampen our excitement.  We did our hair, packed a bag with a blanket, extra jackets, bottled water, and made our way downtown.

Took a photo at home before leaving...

Sure, I got a few weird looks...holding hands with a little girl, her skipping and smiling, walking to a Bob Dylan show.  We went across the street to the VGBG, a restaurant and bar, to get some food that wasn't outrageously expensive before the show. The tables were long and meant to be shared, so she was thoroughly enjoying my quinoa salad and ignoring her kids' meal when I overheard a group of overdressed Uptown types at the other end of the long table proclaim loudly that they "just didn't feel right" about drinking with a kid at the other end of the table, shooting us daggers with their eyes. The place had a friggin KIDS menu...it's not a saloon, people. So I asked Callie what her favorite Dylan song is and if she wanted to sing it with me, so we started singing "The Times They Are A'Changing" loud enough to be gleefully annoying, spittle and food flying from our mouths, as we gave the yuppies huge smiles full of quinoa, black bean, and Dylan words, and then we danced out of there to a smattering of applause and a few high fives.

The venue is nice, large enough to host a big name but intimate enough for it to be a good show.  We staked out our spot in the grass , spread our blanket, and proceeded to wait...but it wasn't long before Callie was making friends.  The ladies to our right, Dori and Amber, were having a mother-daughter date, also. They drove all the way from Saluda, NC because they won the tickets in a radio contest. Classic mountain types, they wore sandals with jeans, colorful vests and had eclectic bags.

It wasn't long before the spot in front of Dori and Amber was taken by a cute couple, John and Jan, also mountain people coming from Shelby and also won tickets from a radio station (the same one!).   They had a really cute blanket/tarp (cool design on top, waterproof, and tarp on bottom...perfect for outdoor concerts, festivals, camping, etc.) that they told me was made by their son, who has a business selling them: Tarpestry (http://thetarpestry.weebly.com/)...[I wouldn't plug them if it wasn't super cool, so there ya go].

Tarpestry

Anyway, they hit it right off with Callie also, letting her use their binoculars to see the guys from Dawes and then, when he appeared, Mr. Dylan himself. Callie was amazing. Away from her brothers and their hyper antics, she was cool and collected.  She was comfortable talking to the adults about Bob Dylan and his music and happy to lay on the blanket with her head in my lap for the hour or so until Dawes played.

Dawes was a bit of a let-down live. I had never heard of them, so I looked them up before we went and was pretty excited....their stuff on YouTube is really good. Don't get me wrong, their music is really good (their vocals...ahhh, like honey) and they were very good last night, but nearly everything they played was draggy. Yeah, it was cloudy and grey, but I'd like an opening band to pep me up a bit and all their songs were pretty mellow, almost too much so. I feel like they just got in their groove on the last song, where they jammed for over seven minutes, and it almost made me want to see a full show of theirs to experience their whole range....I hope I get a chance to do that.

And then Callie had to go to the bathroom, so we ran, not wanting to miss Bob starting up.  Just as we were heading back to our blanket, we hear a guitar and look up to see a sole figure in black strolling out on stage like...well, like he wasn't Bob mothafucking Dylan. Too cool for school.

What? I'm Bob mothafuckin Dylan.

Let me tell you, this man still oozes cool. I don't care how old he is. Stellar wardrobe, iconic frazzled hair, and a voice as gravelly and sweet as really good whiskey on the rocks. When he started singing, most people stopped talking and were mesmerized. And here's where I will indulge in a little rant....

When I say "most" people were mesmerized, I mean not all. I mean that there were a good number of young hipster types in slouchy hats, babydoll dresses with indian boots and ironic feather tattoos, who spent the entire time clustered around the beer stands talking, loudly, and ignoring the show. Thankfully, the security team was really good about moving these clusters of losers when they would stand in front of the lawn area and block the view while trying to get cool shots of themselves watching Bob Dylan in Instagram ("Did you get him in the picture? Well, did you at least get me?  Haha, OK, that's what matters...like, I'll tag the stage as Bob Dylan...hahaha" SHOOT ME.)

For this reason, I didn't even bring my phone inside...I left it in the car. I wanted to experience the show "old school"...I knew my phone wouldn't get any quality pictures from so far back but just having it there wouldn't prevent me from trying...repeatedly...and then assaulting my friends with god-awful, blurry pictures of a stage with some tiny people on it and insisting that one guy definitely is Bob Dylan. I didn't want to watch the show through a screen, I wanted to experience it live. I wish others had done the same...one of the women near us, an older woman, watched nearly the whole show through her iPhone screen.  Ridiculous.  Anyway, if you're going to a show and you don't really know the artists' music, that's cool...just don't be rude to those of us who are really big fans. I know it's cool to just "tag" yourself at the Bob Dylan show, but be respectful of people who paid for the show because they actually like the music and are trying to hear it and see the guy playing it.

I digress. Most of the people there were genuine, happy, beautiful people that were content to sit on the wet grass and let a perpetual mist glide over us as we basked in the beauty of good, solid music. I was pretty absorbed, but the few times I let my eyes wander, I saw people dancing, people laid back, eyes closed, just wrapped up in the sound. Callie dozed off during one of his last songs, on her back on our blanket with Jan and John's tarpestry covering up to her chest, where John had so sweetly laid it to block the misting rain, and her eyes fluttered open to "All Along the Watchtower", where everyone around her was up and dancing.  She lay there, flat on her back, and watched the beautiful people dance with an ethereal smile on her cherub face. If there were one moment I wished I had my camera, that was it, but it's almost better that it's a sacred snapshot memory in only her mind and mine.

I tried to explain to her that by the time her friends realize who Bob Dylan is, get into his music, or at least acknowledge his massive contribution to modern music, he won't be around for them to go see live, so she went into this show with a very serious, almost stoic, determination to absorb this experience.  She watched him, listening intently, with the quiet concentration of a student in a lecture. I couldn't have been more proud (and amazed, honestly...I didn't know how she would handle a concert, nor was I expecting her to behave like a real student of classic rock).  After his first song, she broke out of her reverie, looked at me, and said, "He has such a dark voice." I, and the people around me, stared at her. "Yes....he does," I said, realizing she just hit the nail right on the head...his voice has become "dark" over the years. It's the difference from his early music that many people struggle to capture in words, and my six year old nailed Bob Dylan in one word after one song. 

The concert was amazing. Bob Dylan was, of course, transcendent. I've been to a lot of concerts, but this was one where I truly felt I was in the presence of a master, someone who has a gift that is greater than most of us will ever comprehend, as he manipulated the sound waves like an artist sculpting clay and pulled from the misty air feelings of love, aching, hurt, a wistful nostalgia of our fondest and most wrenching memories. I found tears in my eyes and looked over to see Callie, brow furrowed in concentration, focused with a deep intent on the wild-haired man in black on stage, and I felt the greatest elation that I could give her the gift of music, the gift that has carried me through many dark times and given me so much joy, and that she should be so receptive and receive the gift with such respect.

Life is about these moments. Away from a camera, where human-to-human interaction is necessary. Where complete strangers huddle under blankets, share fries and festival stories, and feel the pulse of life threading through us all. Thank you, Mr. Dylan, for giving me this night of inspiration and a lesson in humanity.

~m