If there ever was an album that cried out to be spun on vinyl, it’s this one. Just set it turning, drop the needle and suddenly you’re on a shabby couch in a college dorm room in 1953, making out with a co-ed in glasses who has no idea how cute she is or what’s she’s going to be whispering in your ear by the time the album spins to a close.
Am I getting carried away? Sure — that’s what this LP, in its devious and sinuous way, is all about.
The new Pope recently said, “The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! ‘Father, the atheists?’ Even the atheists. Everyone!”
The next day a Vatican spokesman felt moved to add that atheists who consciously reject the salvation offered through the Church will still be damned. So atheists will have to enjoy their happy redemption though Christ in Hell.
One of my favorite Dylan performances — that’s him on piano, too . . .
I wrote a short story inspired by this song:
Available in this collection — Fourteen Western Stories.
Via Laura Wagner . . .
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I’m not getting nostalgic or anything, but the days of ’49 — damn . . . those days . . .
Oh, my goodness.
The paperback edition of my book Fourteen Western Stories is not selling very well, so I’ve raised the price to $10.99, because I’d rather have it not sell at a relatively high price than not sell at a bargain price. Amazon, however, is discounting the new price by 20%, to $8.79, which is only $1.80 more than the old price. And so it goes.
The Kindle edition of the book continues to sell well at $2.99. On Sunday and Monday, May 26th and 27th, I’ll be offering it at a special Memorial Day price — nothing! That’s right, for two days it will be downloadable for free! You can read it on a Kindle, of course, but also on Amazon’s free Kindle reading apps, which work on almost all computers and portable devices.
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When I was writing my Western stories I felt fit and optimistic — all those big skies and wide open spaces, all that moving around on horseback, cheered me up, even when the stories were grim. Now, writing about the dark underbelly of Los Angeles in 1954, I feel shabby and paranoid, unhealthy and in constant need of a drink. I hope this one will go quickly, before I need rehab.
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Via Human Faced Dog . . .
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Photographed by William Claxton.
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If you don’t think Dylan is a great singer, listen to what he does with this ditty . . .
My fried Paul Pearson informs me that this was taken in Canada during the River Of No Return shoot.
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