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“Me, I’m still on the road, heading for another joint.”

I got to spend my birthday with the person I most wanted to spend my birthday with. Marisa sang happy birthday to me with a goofy grin on her face and it was the most fantastic version ever. She knew my birthday gift to myself was a trip to Richmond, Kentucky to see Bob Dylan. When Marisa and I met five years ago, she didn’t know who Bob Dylan was (part her generation, part her parents not letting her listen to music). But over the years she has tried to understand why Dylan’s music means so much to me.

I’ve never been able to fully explain it to her. His songwriting is at a level that has no peers; his singing and performing skills are extraordinary and wholly unique; his live by his own code to the extreme is one I have tried to do on a much lower scale. Asked to pick out my favorite Dylan songs, it depends on the day, my mood, what’s going on in my life, and what version of the song I have access to at the moment (with so many great live performances available).

If asked my favorite Dylan concert I’ve attended I would have an impossible time deciding. Was it the 1993 Minneapolis Orpheum show when he sang “Idiot Wind “ for the last time live? The 2005 London concert where he did “Million Dollar Bash” for the one and only time? How about that crazy harmonica solo he did on “Mr. Tambourine Man” at the Target Center in 1995?

I’ve seen Dylan in many different parts of the country (and five shows in London) with many different people. The ritual used to add to the excitement- trying to score a good ticket by calling Ticketmaster over and over the moment tickets went on sale only to get that blasted busy signal (kids today don’t realize what a big advancement speed dial was). Counting the days to the concert, and if general admission, trying to figure out how early to arrive to get as close to the stage as possible. Then the thrill of getting settled into the venue, when the lights drop and you knew he was taking the stage with his band and not knowing what songs he’d pull out of his hat, nor what version of the song you might get to hear. Maybe it would be a disaster with the band not being able to follow his idiosyncrasy but more likely he’d do something that would leave you feeling like you just heard the most original and amazing thing ever.

Some of that excitement has gone away the past few years. Maybe because seeing him 48 times has taken away the unpredicatability and Christmas Day like excitement, but more likely because the setlists have become pretty much the same night after night with a few variations.

Marisa knew how much I was looking forward to this trip. How much I needed this trip. I was coming off a week where my work hours were far too many, and the stress far too great. I had pneumonia but that’s no excuse for not getting my city through another election. It’s not as if the voters wouldn’t care that their chief election official with terribly sick, but the show had to go on. We couldn’t hold the election in a week or two. The Monday before Election Day I got to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon over in our fire department. I was dead out when they got a medical call and the room lit up and the radios buzzed. I nearly hit the roof, but the bit of sleep did me good.

She knew I was looking forward to this trip because it’s been a difficult few years and it had been far too long since I afforded myself such a trip. One of my doctors diagnosed me with “existential angst” the most accurate diagnosis that’s ever been recorded. Dylan has been opening his concerts with “Things Have Changed” and there couldn’t be a more apt song for me with its chorus of “I used to care, but things have changed...” My physical health took a nose dive this year as well as I met my annual insurance deductible in February trying to alleviate pain and weakness in my neck, shoulders and arms. And then my cat died.

My trip got off to an ominous start with me parking at the wrong terminal (1, 2, Humphrey, Lindbergh... I was throwing darts in the dark). I took the light rail to the other terminal and did the miserable airport thing of getting through the security line (got scolded for only taking off my outer jacket and not the hoody underneath). Marisa emailed me and encouraged me to enjoy myself. And so I did.

The drive from the Lexington Blue Grass Airport to my hotel was pretty. Rolling hills, horse farms and lots of trees. I asked my Lyft driver where I could see the blue grass and he laughed and said everyone asked him that. Turns out the seeds look blue but once the grass grows it’s green. 

Cut now to the concert. I had splurged and paid mega bucks for a third row center seat. The guy in front of me in line was disappointed he couldn’t afford the $20 souvenir t-shirt. He was determined he was going to get Bob’s autograph. I was glad to hear the two times he had seen Dylan before was during the “Under the Red Sky” tour. That’s a fun fact.

The venue was at the arts center of the East Kentucky University campus. The center was less than ten years old and reminded me of St. Kate’s O’Shaughnessy Auditorium back home. My seat was center stage but as it turned out, I was a little too close because when Bob sat down at his piano I could only see the top of his hair, with the baby grand blocking out his face. He only sat for some of the songs though and it’s always nice being able to see his facial expressions. 

Highlights? I liked the two songs from 2001’s “Love and Theft,” “Cry Awhile,” and “Honest with Me,” (two songs I never have particularly liked). I liked how Bob chuckled when he sang the line, “I’m stark naked and I don’t care, I’m going off into the woods and hunting bare/bear.” I liked “Simple Twist of Fate,” although he muffed my favorite line, “People tell me it’s a sin, to feel too much within, I still believe she was my twin...”  I’m going to have to check my spreadsheets but I think I got to hear “When I Paint My Masterpiece” for my first time live ever. It was a lovely version with Bob starting the song almost acappela with just a few chords played on the piano. Similar thing with “Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright” which he crooned the hell out of. And Bob offered his one dance move during “Scarlet Town,” dramatically putting his hand on his hip.

My two favorite moments however were with two songs I never thought I needed to hear again. It was the oddest arrangement of “Like a Rolling Stone” I have ever heard with the band stopping at the last few lines of every stanza, with bassist Tony Garnier grabbing the bow for his standup bass, the tempo slowed down to half time with Bob playing with the phrasing of the words. And then the tempo returned to a faster shuffle for the chorus, “How does it feel?” The effect was like knowing a punch was coming but being unable to defend it nonetheless. It may have been my favorite live version of the song I’ve heard. The other great performance was “Gotta Serve Somebody” that after the first verse featured all new verses. How cool is that?

I planned on getting a Lyft back to my hotel, three miles away. But apparently Richmond Kentucky shuts down Sunday nights and there were no Lyft drivers in the area. So I started calling cab companies. None had drivers available. So I did what anyone suffering from existential angst would do. I started walking. In the dark. In a foreign place. Not being able to gauge the safety or lack of safety with what was in front of me. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere. Maybe even a Dylan lyric that captures that.