People sometimes ask me what it's like being Bob Dylan's favorite blog.
It's very nice but, complicated. Very complicated.
Look, I am delighted when anyone likes my blog, let alone a cultural giant of Shakespearean stature, but I'm just a person. I write these posts one day at a time, non commercially, for my own enjoyment, and for yours, if it works out that way.
And he writes me a lot.
"What did you mean," Bob Dylan asks, in one of his frequent missives in the comment section here "When you compared the whole surface of the Internet to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups? Because I have this theory, you know?"
"I just write them because that's how it feels, Bob. I don't have all the answers. If you have a theory, that's great. Maybe you should write a song about it." I hate how churlish I sound, but after 100 comments like he writes I start to feel like he thinks I have some secret line to the heavens.
He sends me emails too. Lots of them, late at night, I think after shows, when he's all wound up.
"Hey," He writes "I was thinking about your post on danger and power and the hierarchy of responsibility. I mean, I thought about it for a long time, and it really made me wonder: Do you think I should give my daughter a call?"
"I'm glad you liked that post and that it meant something to you, Bob, and I think you're as great a singer/songwriter as ever existed, so sometimes I feel almost like I know you too, but we don't know each other. Not really. I don't know anything about you and your daughter. I'm just a blog you read. Maybe in some other life we'd be great friends, but in this one we just don't know each other."
No matter when I write him I seem to get a response back a few minutes later:
"What did you mean by 'maybe in some other life we'd be great friends'?" Bob asks "I feel that way too, that there's like a link between us."
"Get some sleep, Bob, maybe take a break from that endless tour of yours, okay?"
"Do you think so?" Bob writes back instantly "Should I take a break? Maybe go see my daughter?"
"Okay, I'll tell you what to do, but I don't know better than anyone else. Yes, take a break from the tour. Go spend a week with Tom Petty. Just hang out, nothing fancy. After that, find out if your daughter wants to hear from you. If she really does, call her, but listen to her, okay?"
"Thanks man. I will. I'll do just that. Thanks a lot. This means a lot to me. I mean it."
"Okay, get some sleep Bob."
"I just want to read through your Moose posts a couple more times."
"Okay. Good night Bob."
Fame, man, fame.