Bob Dylan wins a Pulitzer

Bob Dylan received a Pulitzer Prize Special Citation for “his profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power.”

He is the first rock musician to receive the award. Previous musician recipients are John Coltrane, George Gershwin, and Thelonious Monk.

I didn't know the Pulitzer gave out this award. I thought it was all about journalism. News reporting. Dylan is one of the greats, but it seems odd for him to be put in this crowd. Words are words. Music is something different. Still, it's pretty cool, even though it seems the Pulitzer crowd needs Dylan more than he needs them.




Roland Scherman took a pretty good picture of Dylan, and he didn't get a Pulitzer.

Although he did win a Grammy for it. The shot was used for the cover of Dylan's greatest hits album.

Although the Grammy people spelled Scherman's name wrong.

He sent the statue back, asking that his name be spelled right.

They didn't do it, though...



Scherman also took some pretty good images of Dylan at the 1963 Newport Folk Festival.

Here's a young, scrawny Dylan arriving at the festival. Yes, that's a bullwhip he has slung over his shoulder. What's that all about. Obviously some sort of statement, but at a different venue other than a folk festival, say a honky tonk in the south or someplace like west Texas, young Bobby would have left with that thing knotted around his neck. Or ceremoniously hog-tied and flung out the door.

But the folkies were duly impressed....




And here's a really good up close and personal image of Dylan and Joan Baez on stage together.
















Finally, it's the early songs that still just resonate. If I wasn't going to be cremated, the words, "Hey Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me" would make some nice words on a tombstone.

I've loved this song from the moment I heard it. I would love to meet the Tambourine Man. What's weird is that voice coming out of that young face.

Trying to get to heaven

There are aspects of my job, or maybe it's my mind, that lets me listen to music while I work.

Sometimes I get so jealous. God, I wish I could write like a lot of people, and Bob Dylan's one of them. How does he come up with stuff like this? Great lyrics. Simple melody.

Something just resonates. Maybe I've lived too hard, but I get it...I definitely get it. I get it like my buddy, Scott, and I finish each other's sentences.


Trying to Get to Heaven

The air is getting hotter
There's a rumbling in the skies
I've been wading through the high muddy water
With the heat rising in my eyes
Every day your memory grows dimmer
It doesn't haunt me like it did before
I've been walking through the middle of nowhere
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

When I was in Missouri
They would not let me be
I had to leave there in a hurry
I only saw what they let me see
You broke a heart that loved you
Now you can seal up the book and not write anymore
I've been walking that lonesome valley
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

People on the platforms
Waiting for the trains
I can hear their hearts a-beatin'
Like pendulums swinging on chains
When you think that you lost everything
You find out you can always lose a little more
I'm just going down the road feeling bad
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

I'm going down the river
Down to New Orleans
They tell me everything is gonna be all right
But I don't know what "all right" even means
I was riding in a buggy with Miss Mary-Jane
Miss Mary-Jane got a house in Baltimore
I been all around the world, boys
Now I'm trying to get to heaven before they close the door

Gonna sleep down in the parlor
And relive my dreams
I'll close my eyes and I wonder
If everything is as hollow as it seems
Some trains don't pull no gamblers
No midnight ramblers, like they did before
I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down
Now I'm trying to get to heaven before they close the door