At age 70, the anointed one began his Monterey Fairgrounds show with a full on band rendition of everybody must get stoned.. as if they needed permission. Seems like a gimme, with the crowd I had imagined.
The sad truth: permission was indeed necessary, the crowd in attendance sat as stone straight as Canadians. Canadians at any public event really. Straight bunch.. No contact highs' for this mixed age crowd..unless of course they were lucky enough to sit down wind from me.
No singing. No dancing,
Carousing? Not a chance... No flowers in the hair. Was this the crowd that made the sixties so fucking groovy? I have to believe that the crowd in attendance stumbled into the wrong venue. Not a hippy-dippy-feel-the-love modality instead think Denny's dinner before 5 crowd.
Fly on the wall was not my desired station. When the band strode out and picked up their own guitars. Each member sporting polished willie wonka-alikeness. His Bobness wore a straw bola hat that seemed a little too fussy in a Nantucket way. Guess he has a NYC sensibility ala the Hampton's summer. Guess he forgot about Northern Cali fog and dampness. A vintage era wool cap might have been a better fit. Certainly would have been a bit more authentic feeling.
One of my favorite Dylan songs came from his last album. Things have changed,. Saturday's version sang with a polished back beat and stage wrap spoke volumes of what has indeed changed from his days of kicking around the village, simply playing with a guitar, harmonica and adoring fans.
It's like the lame tee shirt's sold in tourist traps announcing all i got was this lousy tee shirt. My tee shirt moniker from my experience would have read, I saw Bob Dylan and all I got was a lousy contact high
Things have very much changed.
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