Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Times, They Are Still A-Changing.

So cool.
Despite the fact that Bob Dylan has closely resembled a cadaver for the past several years, it turns out that not only is he actually still among the living but yesterday was his 70th birthday.

I was, and continue to be, a big fan.

In the 1970's, as a smug teen with a musical superiority complex, I was very impressed with myself for listening to his albums. My friends, however, thought I was a bit of an ass. After all, the Bee Gees had just gone disco.

During a news segment on the Early Show, as his birthday was reverently acknowledged by people too young to know much about anything,"The Times They Are A-Changing'"  was playing in the background.

Suddenly, a bolt of realization shook me to my Birkenstocks. This ground-breaking song no longer applies to my generation!!

This song is now telling moi to "get out" if I can't "lend a hand." ME. It's telling ME that?!

WHAT?? 

Hold everything.

I sat back and thought. Back then, Bob was talking, to a great extent, about politics. The Vietnam war. Values of the 50's vs. the sexual revolution. Unresponsive govenment. Big stuff.

And I was all in favor pf pushing the older generation off a cliff and, for good measure, stepping on their fingers as they tried to claw their way to safety before, inevitably, crashing to their deaths on the jagged cliffs of my youth, below.

But now, it's ME????

Okay. After hyperventilating for a few minutes, my immediate goal became to minimize the shock and contain the emotional damage...so I did.

I decided that what this song would apply to now is....texting.

Bob Dylan --  if he had written "The Times They Are A-Changing'" today --   would be referring to texting. Nothing else. Not disconnection from society or inability to keep abreast of political shifts or social norms (by the way, why does that Lady Gaga insist on wearing her underwear out in public? Well?) 

Texting. The song is just about texting! Lalalalala--fingers in ears.

It's a fact that aversion to obsessive texting is a generational issue. When I am introduced to you at a party and despite a polite greeting, your eyes only flicker to meet mine for a split second but you hold fast--with both hands --to your phone and keep clicking away, I want to -- literally --punch your lights out.

Surprise--the young do not feel this way! Why? Because they're all doing it. So, no one makes eye contact or really connects on any significant emotional level....unless, of course, it's via a text.

So, forget the sexual revolution, war, changing social mores, and anything else Dylan was referring to in his music, as sources of the eternal conflict between the youngs and the olds. Since it currently applies only to texting, I'm still in touch with the important stuff. 

I'm also a skinny blonde with long legs and a tiny nose. Who can dance.

Happy birthday, Bob. Many more.

Bob, at 70.


2 comments:

  1. PLEASE tell me you are not blogging at 1am???!!!
    Go to sleep. Dream sweet dreams... the ones where you are tall, thin, blonde and dancing with Bob xxx

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  2. Yes, ma'am. I have to get out early today so 1 am and I were a pair. I have serious night-owl potential, I'm afraid.

    I don't want to dance with Bob, though. I want to dance with Maksim. XO

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