Let me forget about today until tomorrow

Though you might hear laughin’, spinnin’, swingin’ madly across the sun, it’s not aimed at anyone, it’s just escapin’ on the run.

Though you might hear laughin’, spinnin’, swingin’ madly across the sun, it’s not aimed at anyone, it’s just escapin’ on the run.

I probably should have been conspiring with my fellow journalists about how best to speed the ongoing decline and fall of Ronald McDonald McTrump, but I felt like riding a bike, so I did that instead.

Anyway, it doesn’t look to me as though this virulent orange ball of flatulence needs my help to sink slowly in the west, into a sewage lagoon of its own making.

When I got back home I cranked up iTunes and worked my way through my admittedly limited Bob Dylan collection (“Blonde On Blonde,” “Blood On the Tracks,” “Bringing It All Back Home,” and “Highway 61 Revisited”).

I’m not sure ol’ Bob merits the Nobel Prize for Literature, but right offhand I can’t think of anyone else who has it coming, either. I know that I like him, and so I’m happy for him, and shall defer in matters literary to Thomas McGuane, whose opinion on Dylan (from “Nothing But Blue Skies”) I have poached before:

No one compares with this guy, thought Frank. I feel sorry for the young people of today with their stupid fucking tuneless horseshit; that may be a generational judgment but I seriously doubt it.

 

 

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16 Responses to “Let me forget about today until tomorrow”

  1. Sharon Says:

    Much respect to Dylan and Michelle for being able to inspire and communicate in a way that really touches the people…

  2. Pat O'Brien Says:

    Wise choice. Bet you didn’t have to think twice about it.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Not even, Pat. I had a deadline to beat today, and once that sucker was in the bag, off I went, humming a twisted version of a Dylan tune (“Hey, Mister Tangerine Man”).

      • Pat O'Brien Says:

        On the Jones no less. Maybe the ultimate escape machine.

      • Patrick O'Grady Says:

        Since the late monsoons turned a lot of my favorite trails into sandboxes it’s become the off-road bike of choice. With 15-20 psi I just float over soft and hard surfaces alike.

        It’s not a fat bike, it’s just big-boned.

        How’s El Duffo doing these days? And how are you getting by with your better half back on Maggie’s Farm?

      • Pat O'Brien Says:

        The El Jefe Duffo is 100%. Back to his normal self.
        We have the same trail conditions as you. When I approach sand, I always remember that speed is my friend. Resurrected a 15 year old pair of Rudy Project Kerosenes and has the prescription inserts changed to my current prescription. I should be better riding now even though the double vision eye teaming problems are not responding to the Brock String bit. I’ll give it a couple more weeks than head back to the optometrist. Sandy is doing fine and is engaged as a volunteer, again, at the Forkland Festival today and tomorrow. I just returned from my volunteer bit at the Brown Canyon Ranch Western Heritage Program. Has 80 crumb crunching linoleum lizards making adobe this morning.

        Has everything returned to normal at Rancho Pendejo? If our ladies abandon us again, we should saddle up and ride to Austin.

      • Patrick O'Grady Says:

        Good to hear about El Señor Duffy. Alas, normalcy continues to elude us here at El Rancho Pendejo. Herself is fixin’ to roar off to Tennessee and thence to Utah (the trip is mostly work for Darth Sandia, but she’ll get to spend time with her mom and run a half marathon with a gal pal, too). So I will be in charge of quarters for a couple weeks.

  3. mooremediaone Says:

    Blood On the Tracks: My favorite Dylan album. Thanks for reminding me to take a listen.

  4. Peter W. Polack Says:

    Do you think anyone will be able to understand Bob when he gives his acceptance speech?

  5. Patrick O'Grady Says:

    • Extra Credit Dylan (A Blast From the Past): Remember those fabulous Seventies? National Lampoon turned Dylan into a superhero (Zimmerman), drawn by the most excellent Neal Adams, who had revived the Batman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, and a number of other moribund DC heroes.

    Neal Adams also illustrated NatLamp’s “Son-O’-God” blasphemy, which made my own youthful transgressions look rather feeble indeed.

    NatLamp also ragged on Dylan on the 1972 record album “Radio Dinner,” making him a pitchman for a compilation called “Those Fabulous Sixties.” I think I still have “Radio Dinner” on vinyl, along with “Lemmings” and “That’s Not Funny, That’s Sick.”

  6. Larry T Says:

    Good to see cycling photos here! Had our first sub-freezing morning here the other day – I fear it’s going to be a LOoooong winter in Iowa.
    On that other topic I’m happy to see the greasy orange turd finally melting away – on November 9 I hope he’ll be just a stain in the bowl and stench in the air.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      Mornings are brisk here lately, but the days warm up right smart. Still, the hummingbirds have all evacuated and there are nearly as many leaves on the ground as on the maple tree.

      Winter is coming! Let’s hope it’s a bitterly cold and lonely one with plenty of “Idiot Wind” blowing for Der Trumpenführer and his brownshirts.

      Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull
      From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
      Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
      You’re an idiot, babe
      It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe

      He won’t make me lonesome when he goes.

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