bado's Daydream
Dylan put out an autobiography called Chronicles. Interesting stuff--seems though like it was always winter in Greenwich Village back in the early 60s.

I wonder how many wandering souls will look for Dylan if he winds up in a nursing home, like he found Woody Guthrie in Greystone Hospital in New Jersey. To hear Dylan, Woody had been largely forgotten by then. My guess is that Bob Dylan will be well-stocked in his dotage. (Dylan claims to have snuck in cigarettes to Woody; for you enterprising young kids, I think he smokes Kool Filter Kings. At least that's what it looked like when I saw him several years ago, standing pasted to the stage watching.)

In one of the best parts, Dylan writes about a meeting with Bono in which Daniel Lanois is suggested to produce his next album, Oh Mercy.

Dude--to be a fly on that wall...

[The setting, a large Victorian Home in the Garden District of New Orleans. A shortish man with black swept-back hair wanders through the shaows of live oaks along the well worn sidewalk. He turns abruptly and bounds up the stairs to the house and raps on the door. After several moments, and a few swipes of the hand through his hair, the door opens. Framed in the doorway is an American icon, tussled hair, scruffy beard, nice boots though.]

DYLAN: "Bono!"

BONO: "Bobby!"

DYLAN: "Long time no see!"

BONO: "Yeah, hey appreciate the invite to the crib."

DYLAN: "The what?"

BONO: "Your place man, sweet." Bono looking around, "you gonna let me in?"

DYLAN: "Yeah, sorry, come on in."

The two men walk down a narrow, heart of pine hallway with etchings framed on either side. The pictues are esoteric, a mule stubbornly resisting his master's tug, a young girl turning in a party dress, caught twisted and off balance. Bono stares at each frame thoughtfully."

BONO: "These are nice. Who did 'em?"

DYLAN: "Me."

BONO: "Cool."

They arrive at a great room with scattered newspapers, cigarette packs and coffee cups. Dylan pushes aside a few piles and offers a chair. A tabby cat scatters noiselessly.

DYLAN: "Have a seat." Bono collapses into the chair.

DYLAN: "So I heard the last concert in Dublin, good stuff."

BONO: "Yeah, hey sorry 'bout butcherin' Maggie's Farm so bad...it's just, it seemed so perfect, what with the Orwell reference and bossman." [Starts singing earnestly] "He hands you a nickel, he hands you a d--"

DYLAN: "Yeah, that's...that's great. You didn't butcher it too bad."

BONO: "Well, that was all I could remember. That and the, you know, Maggie's farm part."

DYLAN: "Yeah, well, you did go on about Nelson Mandela some."

Both men stare at their shoes.

BONO: Nice shoes. Are they rattlesnake hide?"

DYLAN: "No man, that's just the song."

BONO: "Really?"

DYLAN: "Yeah, rattlesnake skin gets all crusty and nasty. Wanna drink?"

BONO: "Bourbon!"

DYLAN: "I got a Pinot Noir..."

BONO: "Pinot Noir!"

DYLAN: [pouring wine] "So how's it going?"

At this point, Bono mentions his work with Daniel Lanois [Danny].

BONO: "Danny's been makin' me learn chords, you know, the real thing." He swooshes the air with his right hand while concentrating on his left. His hands drop to his side, then advance to each hip.

DYLAN: "What was that? B sustain?"

BONO: "Be whatever I sing to the little zit factories."

DYLAN: "No, the chord."

BONO: "What's a chord?"

DYLAN: "Nevermind. You got Danny's number?"