For those of you who can't wait for the I-promise-I-Am-Not-Making-This-Up true story of how my family and I saved Bob Dylan from certain catastrophe, skip to the end and read the shocking but unembellished you-can't-make-this-up story. For those of you interested in something of a concert review, start here:
My Dad has been a Bob Dylan fan my entire life. In fact, my Dad was a Dylan fan before I was born. I had no choice. My fate was sealed. Saturday morning listening "sessions" with Dad only solidified what was inevitable. And so, for Father's Day this year, Amanda and I bought my Dad a ticket to see Bob Dylan @ Mesker Amphitheater in Evansville, IN. Naturally, my bride and I were going to tag along. It just seemed right. Wouldn't want him to go alone, you know.
Mesker is a fairly dated outdoor Amphitheater, but in decent repair. There is nothing stellar about the setting, but nothing bothersome either. Kind of non de-script. Always the consummate professional, Bob Dylan and his band of cracker jack musicians took the stage shortly after the announced start time and proceeded to bang out the following set list:
1. Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat (Bob on guitar)
2. It's All Over Now, Baby Blue (Bob on keyboard)
3. I'll Be Your Baby Tonight (Bob on keyboard)
4. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall (Bob on keyboard)
5. Rollin' And Tumblin' (Bob on keyboard)
6. Not Dark Yet (Bob on keyboard)
7. Summer Days (Bob on keyboard)
8. I Believe In You (Bob on keyboard)
9. It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) (Bob on keyboard)
10. Beyond The Horizon (Bob on keyboard)
11. Highway 61 Revisited (Bob on keyboard)
12. Blind Willie McTell (Bob on keyboard)
13. I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) (Bob on keyboard)
14. Nettie Moore (Bob on keyboard)
15. Thunder On The Mountain (Bob on keyboard)
(encore)
16. Like A Rolling Stone (Bob on keyboard)
17. All Along The Watchtower (Bob on keyboard)
The entirety of the show was just under 2 hours. Dylan, who was clearly enjoying himself, has almost no voice left. Even favorite live tunes like Highway 61 Revisited were barked or talked rather than sang. From a vocal standpoint, there was not much to enjoy. The fact that a 68 year old icon, however, was still willing to take the stage to entertain fans with the soundtrack to their lives was impressive. Professional. Enjoyable. And the band! The band seemed lifted from the best Nashville sessions and studios and dropped in to Dylan's back pocket. Tight is an understatement. I've posted a youtube video of "I Don't Believe You." It's worth watching.
Amanda and I had fun. My Dad had even more fun. That was the best reward of the evening. It could very well be our last Dylan show. Who knows how long he plans to tour ... or how long his body will allow him to do so. He played guitar on only one song. Through binoculars it was obvious that his hands are swollen and that he suffers from arthritis or tendentious or both. We're all glad we had the opportunity for one more show.
And now for the Main Event ...
On the way home from Evansville, we passed Dylans' tour busses just north of the 41/66 split. For fun, we pulled over and honked at them. That's right, we're all juveniles! Anyway, shortly after passing them again, we noticed an obviously intoxicated driver about 200 yards in front of us. She was weaving in and out of traffic, in and out of the two North bound lanes, and on and off the median area. When she came to a stop at the next light, she almost hit the car in front of her and just about hit her own head on the steering wheel! At one point she actually hit a road marker as she swerved from the right lane on to the shoulder. We called 911. We wanted to protect Dylan. Was he aware of the possible danger? We had misplaced his cell phone number so we needed to formulate a plan immediately! No time to think; it's time to act!!!
As we followed our little drunk monkey, we turned on our bright lights as well as the hazzard "blinkers." Yeah, that's right -- perhaps she would think we were a squad car and pull over. No such luck. She slowed and we pulled in front of her forcing the Malibu to the right shoulder. As my Dad got out of the car, she was back on the highway, engaging in her own brand of catch me if you can. Kind of like a Tom Petty song; the escaping woman always a reoccurring theme. Only here she was going to kill someone. Herself or another. Couldn't keep the car on the road and it was getting worse.
And what was "The Bob" and his merry band of misfits doing as we played police? They acknowledged our efforts, dropped back a safe distance from Miss Inebriation, and put on their own bright lights! No less than a heartfelt, "Thank you -- We understand you are protecting us and are not actually crazy people yourself -- Get her because the police obviously will not respond to your three 911 calls" from the poet laureate of rock -n- roll himself.
So, with Bob's de facto encouragement, we kept the chase alive -- all the way to the I64 interchange where she mistakenly made a right exit into the parking lot of the local Amish Restaurant. Honey, that ain't the Interstate exit; that's the next one with all the big signs. Can't miss it -- unless you're drunk. Now, as this particular parking lot is less than a mile from the local State Police Post we felt that one more 911 call might be in order. Perhaps they could respond by driving from their parking lot the the one just up the street. To our immediate surprise, they did. Three of 'em. Slow night. Just like their response. When I walked to the car of the first officer to respond, I was greeted by a patrolman friend of mine from Court! Go get her boys! We pointed her out and soon enough they had pulled her over, flashing lights and all. Not before she tried to leave, not before she resisted, but they did get her pulled over and out of the car. Bob was safe. We were tired. But justice had been served. With a sense of well being, knowing we had saved Dylan and his crew from certain disaster, we proceeded home.
And that's the true story of how my family saved the life of Bob Dylan. We're heroes!
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