Dylan:

Ok, so on Friday night I went to see Bob Dylan, by myself. He was amazing, naturally, I was expecting that. I thought either he'd come out and play songs so deeply rooted in Rock and Roll that it would bring tears to my eyes, or he would come out in true Rockstar form and not get through his set, because he was inebriated off of something. It was a little of both. But here is what made it so effing wonderful: The audience. I consider Dylan so relevant, that I expected a bunch of 20-30's to constitute most of the crowd. I was wrong. It was our parents generation that came to reminisce over the music. As the songs began, so began the hippy dancing, in the isles, in the seats...all over the place: all I kept seeing was my mother swaying to the music. You see Joey and I were raised by a recovering hippy. All of my earliest memories involve my mother and music and dancing, and well; if we're being honest the smell of pot permeating in the background. I remember my mom holding the neck of a bear bottle in one hand and twirling me to Dylan with her other hand, as early as 5. I remember my mom doing dishes and vacuuming to the likes of Fleetwood Mac, The Stones, The Police, and The Cars. My mother made me my first mixed tape. It had a magazine cover and was a compilation of The Eurythmics, Madonna, The Smiths, and The Pretenders. I embraced everything about that music, from a very young age, probably because it reminded me of the "good stuff" of my childhood. So, on Friday night I was reminded of my mother and her smile as she danced. It made me look forward to 'twirling" my daughter to Dylan and Wilco and Fleetwood Mac. God bless Dylan and Gob bless the generation that lived through true Rock and Roll. I hope we continue the tradition.