Happy 70th birthday, Bob Dylan - and 10 of my favorites

The beautiful thing about Bob Dylan for me is that you never quite get to the bottom of him. After a casual Dylan fandom for years, I dove whole-heartedly into the world of Dylan obsessiveness about five years ago. I haven't quite come up for air yet. Today, the man turns 70.

So in honor of Mr. Dylan's 70th, here's a list. Of the hundreds of Dylan's songs that are out there, my favorites are constantly changing. Here's what my 10 top Bob Dylan songs are today. Tomorrow, they could be entirely different. That's kind of the beauty of Bob; everybody's Dylan is a different one. Happy birthday, Mr Zimmerman!

Blowin' in the Wind: This was probably my first exposure to Bob Dylan; I remember singing it in class in third or fourth grade during music lessons. It stuck in your head, instantly. I think I'd assumed it was some 100-year-old standard, not knowing it was written less than 10 years before I was born. Some of Dylan's songs kind of seem like they always existed, excavated from the earth at just the right time.

Not Dark Yet: Is this 1997 song from "Time Out Of Mind" the most depressing one Dylan ever wrote? Perhaps, but there's something so beautiful about this mournful ode to the end of love and the end of one person's world, it's like a particularly stunning tombstone. Hushed and elegaic, this song is proof rock stars can grow old with superb dignity.
 
Maggie's Farm (live at the Newport Folk Festival, July 1965): It seems hard to imagine these days that Dylan going "electric" stirred up so much fuss once. But listen to this raw molten blast of sound from the Newport Folk Festival where Dylan blew a crowd of Peter, Paul and Mary fans to bits. I love the song, but I love this particular performance of it found on the "No Direction Home" soundtrack even more -- it's a giant middle finger by Dylan, who sings the lines "I AIN'T gonna work on Maggie's farm no more" like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.
 
Tombstone Blues: Off all Dylan's madcap surrealistic lyrics, this is the one I've always loved the most -- from "Highway 61 Revisited," a rollicking, quite funny tour of whimsy and tragedy. I couldn't begin to tell you what it's actually about, but the way young Bob reels off lines like "The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone / Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown" is just vastly entertaining, like a drunken carny rattling off his spiel to anyone who'll listen.
 
Subterranean Homesick Blues: Did Bob Dylan invent rap? Honestly, if you listen to this classic, you have to at least give him a few nods in that general direction. Free-wheeling and hip, it's a mash-up of Beat poetry and talking blues that pretty much invented a handful of genres of music. And let's not forget that classic film clip of Dylan flipping cue cards to the tune from "Don't Look Back" -- a giant step towards MTV and the video revolution, too.
 
Lay Lady Lay: One of Dylan's cheesiest songs, perhaps, from the "Nashville Skyline" era where his voice suddenly took on a surprisingly silky crooner's tone. And "Nashville Skyline" is a rather slight album compared to the masterworks that came before it, but I love it all the same - a simple homage to hearth and home, gorgeously produced and one of his biggest hits. Sure, it ain't political or surreal, but it's just a mighty pretty song, and Dylan's written plenty of those for the ages, too.
 
Idiot Wind: From love to heartbreak -- from "Blood On The Tracks," this is a blistering trip into the eye of the storm of a relationship crumbling to bits. There's a breathtakingly honest anger and plain meanness to this song, which is almost like reading someone's secret diary. It's so intimate it's uncomfortable, as Dylan spits out lines like "One day you'll be in the ditch / flies buzzing around your eyes." But it's a powerhouse because it feels so true.
 
You Ain't Goin' Nowhere: I have a specific memory attached to this song, of a favorite restaurant/hangout back in Oxford, Mississippi, and the night it closed its doors. A ton of local musicians, including members of the band Wilco, sung the night away to bid the cafe farewell, and a shining highlight was a merry singalong of this Dylan tune. It's hardly one of the deepest of Dylan's catalogue, but it's a song that seems to celebrate being alive, getting out of scrapes and surviving to sing the night away.
 
Hurricane: For my money, the best Dylan "protest song," although there have been many great ones. An older Dylan takes the raw talent of his youthful songs and adds the indignant outrage that comes with age and experience as he takes on the case of convicted murderer, boxer Rubin Carter. Did "Hurricane" Carter do it? Even if you think he did, by the time the 8 roaringly angry minutes of this song go by you might well have changed your mind. That's what a truly great protest song can do.

I'm Not There: From the legendary "Basement Tapes," most of which have never seen official release, this haunting number was released on the soundtrack of the Dylan homage movie of the same name a few years back. It's Dylan at his spookiest Weird America best, hushed and sounding like he's singing from a million miles and years away.
 

Old gods nowhere near dead: The latest from Bob and Neil

Somehow, it seems like culture is moving away a bit from the notion that old men can't rock. A decade or two ago, the Rolling Stones were the butt of many a joke about Mick dancing about with a cane and Keith's arthritis. But it seems to me that in the past few years, we've come to grips with the notion that older rock stars still have a lot to offer.

I'm not saying Rod Stewart in hot pants at age 70 is something I want to see -- but take the surprisingly good Rolling Stones concert film "Shine A Light," which manages to give the Stones a sense of grace and dignity kind of lacking in the '90s. Hell, we've come this far, it seems to say, we've gone beyond being just old and on to being legends. Jagger's sheer showmanship puts stars a third his age to shame. The vitality of "Shine A Light" is a nice kick in the head to the idea that all rock stars should hang it up by 40.

It says something that two of the more interesting albums I've heard lately are the latest by Bob Dylan, nearly 68, and Neil Young, age 63. Both stars were big in their twenties, icons in their thirties, then kind of has-beens in their forties for a spell. Now they've wizened enough and have such a soaring body of work behind 'em that every release, even if it's lesser work, is usually worth a listen. There is a precedence for age being a fierce invigorator - think of Muddy Waters or John Lee Hooker. In the blues, age ain't no problem. It shouldn't be for rock 'n' roll either, really. Hell, seeing Neil Young and Bob Dylan both live in the last couple of years, their skills remain strong as ever to be, tempered by their vast experience.

Dylan's "Together Through Life" (his 46th album!) isn't the big artistic statement that recent works like "Time Out of Mind" were. It's a bit of a jaunty reverie, laced through with accordion by Los Lobos' David Hidalgo, that gives it a kind of Tex-Mex feel. The bluesier tempo of Dylan's "Modern Times" is tamed a bit here, for lyrics full of a vaguely sinister, beaten-down love. Dylan's songwriting hasn't quite been as full of allusion and illusion as it once was in his last few discs, but he's made up for it with a deeper, fuller band sound that really carries his broken prophet's croak of a voice along. Mystery and mirth intertwine, and in his sixties, he's turned into the modern heir to the dead bluesmen of the past. "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'" sets the scene with a terrific accordion-powered stomp, while "My Wife's Home Town" has the venom of "Ballad of a Thin Man" filtered through a lifetime's worth of disappointments. Dylan snarls and wheezes through lines like "I just want to say that hell's my wife's hometown." The growl that opens "Forgetful Heart" is a snarl from the abyss that could've been sung by Howlin' Wolf ("the door has closed forever more / if indeed there ever was a door"). A few of the songs meander ("If You Ever Go To Houston" sounds too much like Los Lobos and not enough like Dylan), but the album ends with the wonderfully cranky "It's All Good," which takes an annoying hipster cliche and turns it back on itself. "Together Through Life" doesn't reinvent the wheel Dylan's been rolling (like a stone, you know) for his last few albums, but it is a mighty pleasurable new chapter in the bard's book. And as always, with Dylan there are layers a-plenty to explore in subsequent listens.

Young's "Fork In the Road" is less polished than Dylan's latest; it's mangy garage rock in its bones, another willfully rickety collection by an artist who loves throwing curveballs. His last few albums have run from wistful reverie ("Prairie Wind") to angry protest singer reborn ("Living With War"). Now, he's an aging hippie singing about his car. "Fork In the Road" is a concept album about energy-efficient auto technology of all things, but Neil brings his ode to proud highways a kind of ranting sincerity even when the lyrics veer into cliches. If Neil had a blog, it would be like this album (or "Keep on blogging / till the power goes out," as he puts it.) The songwriting is extremely basic -- consecutive songs are rather banally titled "Get Behind The Wheel," "Off The Road" and "Hit The Road," for instance -- but Neil still has an eye for a hook and a killer riff. It may be a bit tossed off even by Neil's standards, but "Fork In The Road" has an open-hearted charm to most of the tunes. My favorites include the power-chord crunch and heavenly choirs of "Just Singing A Song" (which I got to hear Neil sing back in Auckland in January) or the curmudgeonly grit of the title tune, with old man Neil ranting about "got a pot belly / it's not too big / gets in my way / when I'm driving my rig." I'll take Neil singing about his belly and his cars over a dozen bland young bands any day.

Year in Review: My Top 10 CDs

...Wow, you know, for me 2008 was actually quite a fantastic year for new music. Some years I've had trouble picking a Top 5, but this year I nearly could have done a Top 20. As it is I had to make some painful arbitrary cuts. Acts I've loved for years such as REM and Beck put out swell new albums, but I also discovered a ton of excellent acts this year (many thanks to cool blogs*) -- like the Hold Steady, Wolf Parade, NZ's own Flight of the Conchords and She & Him.

The order of my Top 10 could easily shift given a change of mood, and there's still a couple of '08 albums I really want to hear but haven't had a chance yet. All that as a caveat, in my humble opinion you can't go wrong with any of these discs from the year that nearly was:

1. Hold Steady, "Stay Positive"
Anthemic, inspirational and literate good ol' rock 'n' roll, and a constant in the stereo/iPod all year long. Frontman Craig Finn is one of these dowdy rock poets you see every once in a while, worshipping at the altar of Costello and Springsteen, and on his band's fourth album, creating a rockin' record that never ignores the tough moments, but ultimately seems one hell of a life-affirming document. Swinging from singing about being too old for the "scene" to crooning about cult filmmaker John Cassavetes, Finn manages the tricky business of juggling knowing when to rock and when to go for the killer lyrical hook. A great album has layers, and I'm still digging down deep into this one.

2. Cat Power, "Jukebox"
I know, an album of cover tunes? But nobody does covers like Cat Power, who takes a song and massages it into her own blood. Her takes on tunes by Hank Williams, Frank Sinatra and Billie Holiday are grooving, sultry and utterly her own. I'd have to say she's my favorite singer performing these days. Seeing her live back in March performing these songs was one of the year's highlights.

3. Wolf Parade, "At Mount Zoomer"
Broody, swirling and strange, the second album by this Canadian group is also kind of beautiful because (or in spite of) all the left turns. Sometimes it feels as if a few songs have been squashed together into one. It's got the grandeur of their mates Arcade Fire but sometimes also reminds me of The Doors without the boozy pretension. There's an urgency to it all that keeps the tunes in your head.

4. The Mountain Goats, "Heretic Pride"
I'm finally going to see them live this Wednesday, and I'm psyched. John Darnielle is one of "low-fi" pop's best writers, cunning with a turn of phrase and a fine eye for detail. He started out with boom-box recordings that were faint, tinny and strangely absorbing, but expands into a full band here with glorious results.

5. TV On The Radio, "Dear Science"
This one's on everyone's top 10 lists this year. Am I being a dork by saying I've been into them since 2004? I am so cool. Anyway, TV On The Radio abandons their more prickly side for a bit more mainstream sound, but their industrial-strength doo-wop punk-soul is still hugely compelling stuff, backed up by the dueling vocalists, dense instrumentation, and a state of mind that unerringly captures the confused, battered yet optimistic post-Bush, pre-Obama mindset of the world today.

6. Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds, "Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!"
The Australian high priest of weird doom and gloom, back with a roaring album of lust and temptation and sprawling story-rant lyrics. Like hearing a deranged preacher yelling at you in the subway, but backed by a garage band so propulsively cool you can't help but listen. If that doesn't sound like a recommendation, you don't know Nick Cave.

7. Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, "Real Emotional Trash"
Combines the quirky whimsy of his old band Pavement with long, groovy psychedelic guitar jams, like a mash-up of Guided by Voices and Television. Wonderfully loopy and unexpectedly emotional, it's the best he's done since Pavement broke up and a terrific guitar record. Put it on, turn it up and stare off into space.

8. Bob Dylan, "The Bootleg Series Vol. 8: Tell Tale Signs"
Strictly speaking, not "new" music but what a revelation of material from Bob's work of the last two decades. Gorgeously packaged alternate versions, unreleased songs and live tracks -- it's like getting a couple of new Dylan albums this year! I don't know if three versions of "Mississippi" were needed but "Red River Shore" is a sheer classic and just about justifies the album on its own. Dylan never really "finishes" a song and this look at his sketchbook is fascinating. (Now when do we get an official "Basement Tapes," dagnabit?)

9. Liam Finn, "I'll Be Lightning"
OK, this is a technicality, because it actually came out in New Zealand in 2007, but was released in America in 2008 and I bought it in 2008, so thppppptt. Liam, the Kiwi son of the great Neil Finn of Crowded House, crafts honey-sweet tunes that combine the House's melancholy beauty with a ramshackle, fuzzed-out charm. He's a one-man band, playing nearly every single instrument on this dense album (see him live, it's great how he recreates the sound). It's one of the more promising "famous musical kids" discs I've heard, and grows on me more with each listen.

10. Calexico, "Carried To Dust."
Moody Tex-Mex Americana rambles along through one of this Arizona band's best albums. It's the kind of music you listen to while driving through red dirt and ever-setting sunsets. There's a genuine warmth to Calexico's work, which is like soundtracks for epic western movies that never quite existed. In terms of evoking a mood, these guys are hard to beat.

The almost-tops, tied for #11:
Ryan Adams, "Cardinology," Jenny Lewis, "Acid Tongue," She & Him, "Vol. 1," Elvis Costello and the Imposters, "Momufuku," Beck, "Modern Guilt," REM, "Accelerate."

Best live show:
Tough call as Wilco, Sonic Youth and Cat Power all delivered most excellent Auckland shows, but the massive Big Day Out back in January squished Arcade Fire, Spoon, LCD Soundsystem, Bjork, Liam Finn and Billy Bragg into one hell of a day, so that gets the nod. One of my all-time great musical memories -- here's hoping Neil Young, TV on the Radio and Prodigy can deliver a fitting follow-up next month!

(*As always, go to Largehearted Boy for the coolest dang wrap-up of just about every blog in the universe's Top 10 lists!)

He's in the best selling show. Is there Life on Mars?

• This is the coolest thing I've seen all week. Yep, it's a sunset. On Mars, man!! Tell me that isn't awesome.

• Hey, AllMusic Blog is doing what I did a year ago - namely, looking back at the best albums of 1977, one of music's finest 365 days. Check out their groovy critics' lists here.

• Another reason to vote Barack: Bob Dylan has endorsed him. I mean, really, was that a surprise though?

• I've done the MySpace thing, and now I'm hip with the cool kids over at Facebook (which I have to say has much smoother functionality than the clunky MySpace). Because I really need another way to waste my time. Anyway, friend me if you know where to find me, mates!

Concert review: Bob Dylan, Auckland, Aug. 11

At 66 years old, Bob Dylan ought to be a little silly up there still playing "Blowing In The Wind." How many artists his age still seem really relevant? When was the last time a new Rolling Stones album blew you away?

But at his show last night in Auckland, Bob showed us, as he put it in a line from "Spirit In the Water" that drew big applause,
"You think I'm over the hill / You think I'm past my prime
Let me see what you got / We can have a whoppin' good time."

What a great fun show for the sold-out crowd of 10,000 people in Vector Arena. I had fantastic seats, just 30-40 meters from the stage. Bob tromped out on stage looking like a southern revivalist preacher, all clad in black and croaking in his authoritative reedy whine, which has just gotten more rutted and furrowed with the years (part of the fun of seeing Dylan live is seeing how long it takes you to figure out what song he's singing). He's backed by an outstanding band that's highly polished but never too showy, and Dylan himself takes turns on guitar and keyboard.

The only other time I saw Dylan live was in 1990 in Mississippi, and it was a disappointment to me, mostly because I barely knew who Dylan was and only had one of his greatest hits albums. His raggedy voice and terrible acoustics in the venue rendered most of his songs unlistenable and I didn't really get all the fuss.

Nearly 20 years on, I'm a converted Dylan fan and his quirks became endearing to me when I finally saw him live for a second time. His "never-ending tour" has been going on for years and one of the reasons Dylan can just keep playing his songs over and over is that he subtly reinvents them every night. They rarely sound the same way twice, apparently.

There were a lot of highlights in the set, and stuff from his excellent 2006 album Modern Times shone particularly brightly, especially a hushed "Nettie Moore" and a romping version of "Rollin' And Tumblin'" that sounded like Muddy Waters meets Robert Johnson. I loved a stretched-out, still-passionate "Just Like A Woman" and the stomping, nearly psychedelic take on "Highway 61 Revisited." His "Wonder Boys" soundtrack song "Things Have Changed" was an emotional high point (and the Academy Award he won for that tune was resting quietly on one of the amps). The epic "Desolation Row" was a real pleasure to hear live, too, even if some wanker who thought he was at a rugby match tried to rush the stage during it. The stark "Masters of War" received a hypnotic rendition, the stage all bathed in crimson light, and as an encore "All Along The Watchtower" had a fierce power to it. I was a little bummed by his "Tangled Up In Blue," as one of my favorite Dylan lyrics got a rushed take that jumbled up the classic melody, and Dylan zipped through the intricate lines like an auctioneer.

If you were expecting lots of stage patter and Bob cracking Joan Baez jokes, don't bother – the only time he broke away from the music was to introduce the band on the second-to-last song. And that was cool – it kept the element of Bob the mystic, down here to entertain us mere mortals.

Set list, courtesy of the most excellent web site that features everything you wanted to know about Bob's tours:
1. Rainy Day Women #12 & 35
2. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
3. Watching The River Flow
4. Just Like A Woman
5. Rollin' And Tumblin'
6. When The Deal Goes Down
7. Things Have Changed
8. Tangled Up In Blue
9. Spirit On The Water
10. Highway 61 Revisited
11. Desolation Row
12. Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine)
13. Nettie Moore
14. Summer Days
15. Masters Of War

(encore)
16. Thunder On The Mountain
17. All Along The Watchtower

Why my dentist cracks me up

He said today whilst I was having a filling and we were talking about Bob Dylan's upcoming concert in Auckland, which we both have tickets for:

"I'm having the dream again. I'm the on-call emergency dentist. Bob Dylan's people call, and there's a problem. I have to do an emergency root canal, and we become friends. He writes a song about me."

It was his beautifully blissed-out expression that sold it for me.

Music review: The Traveling Wilburys Collection

Pound for pound, the Traveling Wilburys contained more sheer musical genius than a Lollapalooza of lesser bands. A Beatle, a Dylan, a Heartbreaker, a legendary voice and an Electric Light Orchestrator? It sounds like rock star fantasy camp, but it was reality nearly 20 years ago now.

The combination of George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison and Jeff Lynne made for one of the finest "supergroups" of all time. Their first album, "The Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1," and to a lesser extent, their second, teasingly labeled "Vol. 3," represent a shining high point in each of the artists' careers.

Shamefully, these discs have been out of print and fetching high prices on eBay for years now. Rhino Records has now repaired the situation by reissuing The Traveling Wilburys Collection – the Wilburys' two discs, remastered and with bonus tracks, and paired with a new retrospective DVD. All I can say is, it's about time.

The Wilburys sprang out of sessions for Harrison's 1987 comeback disc Cloud Nine. In 1988, Harrison and Lynne were putting together a B-side for the single "This Is Love" at Dylan's home studio. Roy Orbison and Tom Petty just happened to be hanging about, and the five slapped together a little song.

But the result, "Handle With Care," was far from a mere B-side – catchy, wistful, anchored by Harrison's sweet guitar solos, the crooning chorus from Orbison, Dylan popping up to blow a harmonica and croak a few lines like a subterranean oracle. It had the ramshackle feeling of a road trip anthem, the universal appeal of a forgotten classic rock tune, and it was way too good to toss away as filler. The group reconvened to record an entire album. Legend has it that "Wilburys" was coined by Harrison and Lynne during the recording of Cloud Nine as a reference to recorded "flubs" that could be eliminated during the mixing stage (as in, "'We'll bury' them in the mix").

The goofy in-jokes continued right into the album itself, where despite their pictures being on the cover, the band members took on pseudonyms as "Wilburys" – i.e. Dylan became Lucky Wilbury, and so on. Although it was a loosely organized throwaway record – written and recorded in just 10 days – the sum was greater than the solo careers of some of the men at this time.

Even Dylan, who one would imagine the least likely of the quintet to take part in such a goofy lark, seemed to have a blast – the charmingly lovelorn "Dirty World," or his "Tweeter and the Monkeyman," a rollicking Springsteen-meets-Bob parody that's light years above most of Dylan's other '80s output. Orbison hadn't had a real hit in decades, and this disc helped launch the career revival that came too late – he died suddenly at age 52 in 1988 mere months after the recording of this set. Some of his tracks here, like the lovely "Not Alone Any More," stand with the best of his work.

What was so remarkable about "Vol. 1" is that it's a "supergroup" album almost entirely lacking in pretension – just simply gorgeous, honest soundcraft, polished to a fine shine by Jeff Lynne's typically slick production. Everyone takes turns on vocals and songwriting, and the result is that no one artist pulls rank on the others. The sonic touch was also present on the Lynne-engineered albums of the time, Harrison's Cloud Nine and Petty's Full Moon Fever. In fact, both of those albums featured cameos by other Wilburys and are almost continuations of the Wilbury sound.

Sadly, Orbison died and the result was the Wilburys never quite measured up to an outstanding debut. The remaining four did regroup for 1990's follow-up. With more of that quirky Wilbury humor their second album was labeled "Vol. 3," confusing fans forevermore. "Vol. 3" unfortunately was more like what "Vol. 1" could've been – solid, but somewhat unmemorable, a lark without heft. The operatic voice of Orbison was a key part of the first record's appeal, lending a lovelorn grandeur to many of the songs. He's sorely missed. Songs like "She's My Baby" or "Wilbury Twist" are good-time rock 'n' roll, but there's something missing. The relaxed spontaneity of the first album is a little more forced here, proving that maybe you can't always repeat a winner. Still, the Wilburys never embarrassed themselves.

The reissue includes four new tracks – the benefit for Romanian orphans "Nobody's Child," as well as Vol. 3 outtakes "Maxine" and "Like A Ship," and the UK-only B-side "Runaway." The DVD features the original five charming music videos, along with a 24-minute documentary told in the group's own voices. There's a variety of editions for fans to choose from – the standard 2-CD and DVD set, a "special edition" boxed set that includes a 40-page book and more, and a vinyl set.

Even if you own one of the original rare CDs, you'll want to make the upgrade to this rewarding, long-awaited collection. There'll never be a Wilburys reunion now that George and Roy are both up at the juke box in the sky, but this is the next best thing.

Modern times, empty wallets

So Bob Dylan's coming to Australia and New Zealand for the first time in four years, and reborn Dylan fan that I have become in the last year or two, I knew I had to buy myself a ticket for the Auckland show in August. 'Cause, y'know, the man is 66 years old now, and who knows if he'll come this way again? That coupled with the fact that his last disc, the jaunty "Modern Times", was one of my favorite albums of last year and IMHO his strongest in a long time. And I beat the scalpers to land tickets for the 25th row in the brand new Vector Arena! I just won't think about what the ticket cost.

Sadly, I had to make a choice here – because it turned out The Shins were also coming to Auckland in early August for a show as well. (See - we may be far away but we're on the touring circuit!) But as ticket prices for live music are so hideously expensive here, I had to really force myself to choose one or the other as we really are trying to save cash for the housing fund. I've actually seen both the Shins and Dylan live before – the Shins in 2002, Dylan in 1990 – but when it comes down to it, Dylan is Dylan, innit? Sorry, Shins. I'll see you next time when my wallet is heavier. And Bob, I'll see you from the 25th row in August. Play "You Ain't Going Nowhere" for me, will ya?

ETC.: Deep Thoughts

ETC.: Deep Thoughts

It's the first day of summer and my brain is cooked already. Incapable of longer coherent posts, so here are things to watch, hear and read as you lie on the beach or carpet or what-have-you.

WATCHING "Entourage" co-star Jeremy Piven as Hollywood agent Ari Gold may just be my favorite character on TV. Just finished watching Season 2 of the HBO comedy on DVD and Piven, dammit, should have an Emmy for this stuff. He makes Ari a compelling, complex bastard, a standout among a superb cast. Watching his meltdown against boss Malcolm McDowell at the end of Season 2 was fantastic teevee. The rest of the show's pretty swell too. I only wish us poor HBO-less folk didn't have to wait a year or so to see the now-airing Season 3 on DVD.

LISTENING to Bob Dylan "Live 1975" (The Bootleg Series Volume 5). Yep, still on my dedicated (some, wife Avril, would say obsessive) Bob Dylan kick, and got a copy of this recently, a fantastic souvenir of Bob's rollicking "Rolling Thunder Tour." From the very first track, a fiery, stomping take on "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You," it's tremendous stuff, with an amped-up, rocket-fueled Dylan sounding more passionate than I've ever heard him before.

READING James Kochalka's Superf*ckers #3 from Top Shelf, the latest issue of his extremely sick and twisted take on superheroics. Imagine an extremely talented, Tourette's-afflicted 10-year-old doing a scatalogical superteam comic. It's disturbing, gross and hilariously funny stuff. Neon-colored and brutal satire.

LAUGHING at the things a toddler says. Peter's most recent curious statement, which can sound quite bad out of context:
"There rice on my penis!"

Ah ha ha.

ETC.: Roley, Macs and Dylan again

ETC.: Roley, Macs and Dylan again

…Yeah, not a lot to say right now. Weather's taken a turn for the better for a few minutes after a couple weeks of rain, so Peter has been outside instructing me in the art of throwing dirt and of taking scoops of sand and moving them to one part of the beach and then back again. He's also been happily playing with his beloved new "Roley" the steamroller from "Bob The Builder," his current obsession. He begged us and begged us for a "Roley" after learning there were toys of the show and like the softies we are we got him one when he had a particularly good day. (How can anyone resist this face asking you "Pweez pweez? I be good!")

Peter also told us yesterday, "I not robot, I Peter." Which is always good to know about your kid.

ITEM! We did order our sexy new Mac Book computer last week — hopefully our old iMac will sputter along until it gets here. Thanks to the miracle of Fed Ex, I can tell you that as of 2:37 a.m. this morning it was in Indianapolis, fresh from Anchorage, Alaska, and before that, Suzhou, China! Supposedly we'll get it by Thursday, although I don't see how it will come from Indianapolis to Oregon in that time. More likely Friday. Either way, I'm itching for the shiny new laptop to arrive. Why, I'll be able to blog wireless at last!

ITEM! Many thanks to reader Chris down in Australia, who read my Bob Dylan post last week and offered to send me a recording of Dylan performing "Oxford Town" at that long-ago show I attended at Ole Miss in 1990! Apparently, according to those who know, that was perhaps the only time Dylan has performed the song live, and a bootleg of the tune has been making its way around for years. The beauties of the Internet – a guy in Australia can read a post by a guy in Oregon about a concert in Mississippi 16 years ago and actually have a tape of some of it! Anyway, many thanks, Chris, can't wait to hear it!

MUSIC: Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man

MUSIC: Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man

Happy 65th today to the free-wheeling Bob Dylan! Hard to believe, the same age as my Dad. I've coincidentally been on a Dylan kick lately, reading the entertaining "Rough Guide To Bob Dylan" and recently finally upped my street cred by purchasing "Highway 61 Revisited" and "Blonde on Blonde."

I once read somewhere (wish I could remember where) something to the effect of, when you're a kid, you discover and love The Beatles; as a teenager, Led Zeppelin; a college kid, The Doors; and then as an adult with kids of your own, you finally grow into Bob Dylan. Perhaps that's true, because I've found new depth to the man in recent years. I've always admired Dylan, and owned all three of his greatest hits collections as well as scattered CDs, but I never quite ascended into Dylan fanatic status. But I've grown to really be fond of his finest works, such as the terrific, heartbroken epic "Blood On The Tracks," which I bought a few years back and listen to regularly. (If there's a better, more truthful and vicious song about the bitter bile of a breakup than "Idiot Wind," I haven't heard it.)

I've only seen Dylan once live, and it was back in 1990 when I was barely familiar with him. He was playing part of his 'Never Ending Tour' and came to the University of Mississippi. It was the hip show to go to; and everyone knew about his song "Oxford Town," which dissected the college's darkest hour (the racist uproar and violence over the admission of the college's first black student in 1962). It's kind of funny – "let's go see the show by this guy who wrote a song about how racist and awful we were back then" – but you know, you're a freshman in college, tickets were cheap. Dylan is reportedly either awesome or godawful live. Unfortunately, we pretty much got the awful, with lots of jibba-jabba incomprehensible muttering-singing by Dylan that obscured his great lyrics. (Didn't realize he was playing "Oxford Town" until halfway through the song.) Thanks to the miracles of the obsessional Dylanologists on the Internet I'm even able to find the set list for that long-ago 1990 show – he played "Wiggle Wiggle"??

Anyway, I was a little young to "get" Dylan then, but as one of the man's songs goes, "Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." Happy birthday, Mr. Dylan.

LIFE: Random ramblings

LIFE: Random ramblings

ITEM! Tuesday was primary Election Day here in Oregon, which is kind of like Christmas without the presents when you're a journalist. Lots of anticipation and stress; little payoff. I always sleep badly on election nights, because my idiot brain can't stop wheeling about the results; even if it's not a race I'm particularly invested in. Call it the journalist's disease. The county commissioner election here was particularly brutal this time, with lots of low-down, nasty feelings between supporters of the two main challengers. All politics is ugly, but this was particularly unpleasant. At the newspaper, you get to bear the brunt of the mudslinging, which kind of wears you out on the whole process. You're "biased" to everybody, which is code for "you're not catering to my biases." Ah well. Personally I felt we did a pretty good job of fair coverage. We're through this cesspool, and there's a few months of peace before the November election bickering begins...

ITEM! Man climbs Mount Everest without legs. Seriously, I couldn't do it on two legs. Kiwis are tougher than the rest of us.

ITEM! Have I mentioned yet that it's 5 months until we move to New Zealand?

ITEM! If you're looking for a good, morbid beach-blanket summer read, check out Kevin Brockmeier's novel "The Brief History of the Dead." A solid piece of end-of-the-world science fiction with a literary spin. Intricate plot and a page-turning prose style, juxtaposing the tales of the residents of a mysterious city with the survival story of a stranded Antarctic researcher. Moving and thought-provoking stuff.

ITEM! Want to hear me ramble on more about The Pixies? Go check out my review at BlogCritics of "Fool The World: The Oral History of a Band Called Pixies." Good readin'.

ITEM! Finally, Apple has announced their oh-so-sexy new Mac Book laptops, a more affordable version of their pricey Mac Book Pros. The baseline model starts at about $1,100, and I'll be first in line to get one. We've been talking about getting a new Mac for a year or two now, but I wanted a laptop (easier to take to New Zealand) and kept hearing rumors about the new models, so I waited... and waited.... Glad I did. These look fantastic. It'll be a quantum leap for us from our battered 1998-vintage iMac at home, which emits disturbing groans and wheezes now every time it's asked to do anything too difficult, I have to constantly delete files to make sure I don't run out of space and it boasts a barely-functioning CD drive. Yep, I'm getting ready to boldly leap into the 2000s! Figure on buying one next month sometime. Stay tuned for updates. Soon I will be hip!