Bob Dylan Tour North America 1981.


To Klydie King ; such a sweet heart !

In the train to Paris, again on the road for Bob Dylan?
I received a letter from Carole, my American friend, telling me that the Prince was touring in Canada and north of the UNITED STATES. Without hesitation, not even knowing the dates of the concerts, I send a telegram to both Bob and Carol, informing them that I will meet them in Canada. I pack up my socks and jump into the first available charter for Montreal, hoping to arrive in time. This time I have some money with me and hopefully I will sleep better and eat better than during the European tour. I'm so glad He is back on the road, I can finally see him again. But I wonder why this one. I read that he was desperate. On the road to forget?

Paris: hard to find a room. I meet a girl who agrees to share with me. This Wednesday, October 21 1981 I woke up late and eat breakfast in a hurry. I arrive at Roissy and wait. An hour flight to London, change, seven-hour flight to Montreal.

Montreal: I take the bus to the down town and found the youth hostel. I buy Rolling Stone magazine to find the concert dates. Nothing on Dylan. Got screwed?
Thursday: I come home with a briefcase and inside some "bootlegs", a few books and a ticket for October 30th. I am pleased, though the day started badly: I found myself in a remote quarter, it looked like the slums of Chicago, black and dirty. In returning to the main avenue, I was looking for posters, but nothing. I began to wonder if Carole had not made a mistake. I went into a record company and asked if Dylan was playing in Montreal. I was asked if Dylan was a French singer! A few houses away, there was finally someone who directed me to the Forum where the show would take place. As he had no information about Toronto, I decided to go there.

Toronto: 24. I arrived yesterday at 5:00 p.m., after six hours of crossing an autumnal country site. I found a room at Y.M.C.A. for 17 dollars not too cheap but comfortable. I realized then that we are Friday night and all the exchanges are closed until Monday. Here we go again! Around the theater, they sell tickets for "Nazareth". I’m informed that Dylan is probably on the 29th. I'm confused: Carole told me, Toronto, Kitchener, Ottawa and Montreal. As he will be in Montreal on the 30th, there is something wrong.

Toronto is a big city. More American than European in appearance. But the mentality is more European: they run, they run. Cinemas with bad movies, they speak English and appear “bourgeois”. This does not please me too much and I confined to my room most of the time.

Lire phonétiquement
Sunday: I wake up late and go into a cinema where they play "Quadrophenia," "ladies and gentlemen", "the Rolling Stone" and "images before my eyes" documentary on the life of Polish Jews between the wars. On leaving I meet a Dylan fan who invites me home. I have nothing to do, I accept. He has an incredible collection of "bootlegs" we listen all night. I go back to the Y.M.C.A. in the morning to find my room locked because I did not pay last night. They do not make problem and open the door. Phew, I leaf through the book "Bob Dylan, approximately" by Stephen Pickering, the Christian who converted to Judaism out of love for his idol. Now that Bob sings Jesus, I wonder what Stephen is going to be. As "Bob Dylan: What Happened" about his conversion, Bob said he liked the book, that he was telling the truth - "Bob Dylan: the illustrated record" with its amazing pictures. Also "the Talmud" "The Passover Haggadah" and "Jew, God and history" of Jewish history throughout the ages. I never studied so much Judaism since Bob is.... Christian! I am very happy to read that Jesus was a Jew named Yeshua ben Miriam, Franz Kafka was a Jew as well as Karl Marx, Sigmund Freud, Spinoza, Albert Einstein, Trotsky, Marc Chagall. For a group of twelve million, not bad!

Wednesday: Bob will arrive tomorrow and the day seems endless. I scribble a few drawings but I am not in the mood.

Thursday: There are some posters on the walls and the program is crazy: Toronto 29, Montreal 30,  Kitchener - Kitchener is located southeast of Toronto - Ottawa on November 2. I hope I do not miss any bus because distances are long and the intervals short between the shows. My plan is to leave the concert just at the end and catch the express bus at 12:30 p.m. to Montreal. I wonder how Bob and his band will travel. I hope they have a bus fitted out to sleep in it. If you knew what painful and tiring it is to travel in these conditions!
And for a 40 years old guy who has to work hard every night, you would admire him.
It is also true that this fevered atmosphere is conducive to the inspiration needed to create. This is probably at this time he wrote the best. This could be as the flight from a family life that no longer exists and it's so common for Bob. It's too bad for his wife and children but does he not belong to its audience? The audience who has made him who he is. Yet a public is neither kisses nor caresses. One must be terribly spiritual to see love hiding behind the cheers and applause and a few red roses. So much trouble for a moment of glory!

Montreal: Friday. I have a stomach ache and did not sleep on the bus. Otherwise, it alright (Ma)!
Yesterday I turned around the "Maple Leaf" where the concert should take place. Who do I see waling down the street? Dylan himself flanked by a tough guy I take for a guard. Bob, white wool hat, suede jacket, jeans, sunglasses, a two-day beard. I turn around and follow. Surreptitiously turning away, he sees me. In a flash he has stashed in the door of a pizzeria. I'm there. He and his guy are stashed between two doors. He pulls on a cigarette. I'm a little embarrassed to have him stuck, but I can not go back. I say
"May I ask you a question? How many shows there will be in Canada? "
No response, He’s ice.
The guy says,
" for what I know two: Toronto and Kitchener ",
" Montreal? "
" Yes "
"and Ottawa. So it will be four concerts, I'll see all, goodbye, thank you."
I go out. Bob gaze follows me without a grimace. I digress to the left, and turn back five minutes later, then goes into the pizzeria where I am sure that Bob had dinner. I request a pizza and look around. No Dylan. Going out I find the yesterday friend who tells me he had spun Dylan at McDonald’s and Bob was sent for a burger and a Coke.
I begin to ask myself some questions. How is it that a star as rich as Dylan lands in a Mc Donald’s after passing in front of the theater where the guys are selling tickets for Dylan show, Dylan badges ... To see if he can be recognized? - Me and my boyfriend were the only ones to see him-. For his own ego? To see the ‘business’ we are doing around him. But why was he hidden? Did he think he could have been recognised? It was probably the best place for it. What a challenge!

I stale at the stage door and I see a black bus with tinted windows arrives. I meet Meyers, greet and asks how many concerts there will be in Canada. He replies spontaneously "Toronto, Montreal, Ottawa and Kitchener." Then four, I was right. I thank him and move away.
The show is probably bad because I have a bad spot to the left of the stage, I do not even hear the words. There is no gospel.
He starts with "Gotta serve somebody." Black jacket - it seems - black pants, black boots, a Dylan so far from the fragile teenager he looks in the street. I can not see his face, he wears dark glasses anyway. "I believe in you" and then a series of old songs: "Like a Rolling Stone", "I want you" - a new rhythm - "Girl From The North Country" "A hard rain-a-gonna fall" "Mister tambourine man "" Maggie's Farm, "A simple twist of fate" "Masters of War" "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight", revisited. A break. Bob is in the back playing the guitar and three singers sing "Where's the gambling man. ". And here again with new ones ; " Dead Man Dead Man ", " solid rock " - a slower version that I do not -" watered down love ", " Let It Be Me " with Klydie " forever young ". No "Lenny Bruce" no "Precious Angel". He seems tired, annoyed, even angry, without conviction. It seems that he lacks a reason to live, a reason for being here tonight except to fill a contract. My friend points me out that he is extremely thin. Eating hamburgers will certainly not give him any energy. "When you gonna wake up",  "In the garden" I know it's the end. An encore with "Blowin 'in the wind" second acoustic with "It ain’t Me Babe" and the finale with "Knockin' in heaven's door" with a reggae beat. I do not feel the urge to dance. I have the impression that the musicians do not play in perfect harmony, it is Tim Drummond on bass, a former, he’s found already for the S. SNACK concert behind Dylan and Neil Young and he accompanied Neil on "harvest "- Steve Ripley, guitarist, like punk (?), Fred Tackett, guitar, rather" hippie "and icy, Jim Keltner which unfortunately disappears behind his drums and string of cymbals, another drummer who will make a brief appearance, Al Cooper on keyboards - an old friend who was already on the albums of the 60s and about which Bob on stage, will remark
"on keyboards Al Cooper, I can not believe it."
The singers are Regina Mc Crary, Madeleine Quebec, who also plays keyboards, and Klydie King by far the most inspired, the cutest too.
I see the photographer and the gray hair man, I can not talk to them, they are too far.
The public is good, very good. It is true that there are those who are motivated. They came despite the bad reviews and despite a "boycott" that exists here because of his conversion. Does Bob know? Or feels it with his usual instinct? He seems embarrassed to sing the new songs and keep them all to the end. I thought even that would not make one. Did he get in trouble in the U.S.a.? I heard that not yet. I go out and around in circles. Two black buses with tinted windows are parked with the engine running. Can they be already there? They start. Two great hotels buses, no special camping-van. They are en route to Montreal. I run to the Y.M.C.A., pick up my bag and rushe in the half past midnight bus.
I feel confused : happy to have seen Bob in the street, and I think he is not one of those Hollywood stars or showbiz, but a simple human being with
human needs, and also disappointed he is so lonely on stage and in the city, he does not seem to have fun.
So it seems to me that if I so quickly recognized Bob as a "civil" it is because I search for him everywhere, in every being that passes.

Saturday: somewhere in a hotel room on the road to Kitchener. Yesterday I dragged all day around the forum, and by chance I found the bus outside a hotel. I met the photographer who took my address and promised to send me photos - I never received of course - and there who I meet? ... Carole, my American friend. We talk about following the entire tour in the UNITED STATES. We find the man with gray hair who is smiling to see me here and invite me to share a room - with a wink. I decline the invitation. We welcome the musicians who goes one to one to the Forum. They warn that Bob is gone. True or not we disappear, because this is the "message".
Inside, I am far from the stage, but better than yesterday. The show is perfect. That's about the same songs. Full of energy but without anger, however. Bob is in a good mood, he hops from one side to the other. He adds a third encore, a fantastic "It's alright ma," and also "Heart of mine." We say goodbye by the stage door and we move away from the city. Carole, a friend, Bill, and I take a room in a large and comfortable hotel. I do not know what to think. If I go to the United States, I will certainly run out of money, but I would like so much to go. After four hours of driving we arrive in Kitchener. We wait two hours by the back stage door. The security official, Don - who was part of the European tour without having a particular role, it appears - shake us a little. We have to hide behind the right wall, and the bus arrives on the left, fatally. We move right on time to see Bob go. Shit! I have no ticket and attempts to get in with a "VIP pass”. - Very important people - the gray hair man gave me and it works. I take confidence in myself and when I see Stan –gray hair man - I ask him to put me an extra chair as Jim had done in Europe. He told me nor "yes” or “no".  I'm really nervous, I remain right there, right in front of the microphone. they add me a chair in the  fifth row, perfect. Thank you Stanley. The concert is super fantastic. A fifth encore "Are you ready" for the first time. On the first row some people wear masks . Bob says:
"It's Halloween today, but you know there are people who wear masks all the time. I wear a mask” - and he touches his glasses -. He picks up a paper that someone has discarded and maliciously says
"there are some who believe they know me by just looking at me, and they want to talk to me."
I go out to find Bill and Carole. The two hotel buses are parked right in front, we decide to follow them. We roll, roll. There is another car in front as well following. They finally stop at a restaurant. There is a small rucus, the fans of the car are a little "pushy" and after considerable dialogue, Howard - the photographer - takes a picture of the guys in front of the bus and off they go. We hid, we follow the scene, and Carole and I enter the restaurant. Bill is still in the car. We take a coffee. It is a kind of soulless cafeteria as there are in the United States. Bob, Klydie, Stanley, Howard and Don enter in turn. Bob and Klydie after choosing food head with their trays to a secluded table, away. As he passes us, he says
"hello girls" - I should mention that I’m 26 and my friend years 35 -.
We chat with members of his staff. In fact they try to screen between us and the Boss, just as in the bus where I was invited by Bob. We go out and wait outside. Carole approaches Bob to give him a scarf she knitted. Don stops her and follows a small altercation witch without being too violent brings confusion. Bob comes to her and gently says,
"I thank you, but I would not use this scarf now."
It is a cold enough refusal all the same. He then turns towards me, a little aside and wonder "how did you come here?"
"I flew"
"Are you still a gypsy?"
"so brave Gypsy! "
Ah I’m stoned because I never told him personally that I was a gypsy, I just made the remark to Stanley in the bus, the night of the famous invitation. Had he heard? I do not think. Then he asked Stan what I told him? Then I was talking nonsense because I did not like these people. Finally! he recognized me. He has a good memory when he wants.
He leaves and we also, this time without following. Carole is really not happy that he refused her scarf. With Dylan all is symbolic, in his songs and in his attitudes in privacy.
Denying something means that there is not trust between the two protagonists, at least that's how we ' interpret’, and of course it's offensive to Carole. The scarf was only a pretext, it could have been anything. One day in San Francisco, I offered a small cloth clown that he initially refused, then the next day when I had the doll in my hands, he came to me and requested it. I later learned that he had donated it to a charity  organization(?). Evidence that this was a way of saying "I like you, you can stay there".
I will sleep well tonight and I'll dream about my idol. I have seen him close on stage, he wore a navy-blue jacket, tight black pants, rocker black boots and  a T-shirt. This is not the extravagance of a Mick Jagger. I think that he does not care about his outfit. But he moved his legs with a certain something of Elvis Presley- When he was "thin" and sexy - some way provocative, less vulgar than Jagger and that's good. He has a certain "class" that the Stones have certainly not.

Sunday: Today is a day without a concert.
What do we do? We return to Toronto. Bill is the greatest Dylan collector and has a lot of contacts. He  takes us to a friend who has video-cassettes of Dylan concerts. He shows us a tape of the concert in Toronto and one from France, Toulouse. I think it's amazing how much video-cassettes, discs, bootlegs, photos, books, CD, DVD circulate ... Fortunately, this is prohibited! We go then to the apartment of another collector who has his walls covered with Dylan and has a special room to store his collection. We listen to a few things. I naively asked if I could have copies. They respond with a smile. I learned later that collectors are real business people and they give nothing for nothing. Me, who has only memories in my head, I'm not good .
Monday: we head to Ottawa that we reach at 6:30 p.m. tonight.
The cars are inside a closed parking lot. We go in at to eight o’clock and Carole and I ask - as Bill himself is working to find a pretty good place to shoot - Stan to add chairs for us. We are near near the mixing table. The sound engineer is not happy. Too bad. I say goodbye to Stan, as it is the last concert in Canada and I'm not sure I can go to the United States.
The concert is very good, He is in brilliant form. He talks a lot, when he starts we can’t stop him.. At the end we run in the front. The audience claps in cadence
"go ahead, do not stop"
he whispers something to the singers, Klydie moves the microphone and they sing "Jesus is the one" back up by the crowd. Those moments, so intense, with a perfect harmony between the musician and his audience, there will be few and it's a shame. These are definitely the best times for Bob, he does not feel completely alone.
We dine at a restaurant and try to find a way for me to pass the border without problems and without a visa.

Tuesday: we return to Toronto where I buy a monthly bus pass that I will use as ID. I learn by heart a false address in Canada and I must say that I'm going to Cincinnati for one day, the time to see the Dylan concert. I'm not confident in the car that rolls and rolls to the border. I am sick with anxiety. Bill drives, Carole is by his side and I'm on the right rear seat hidden by a pile of luggage on my left. The customs officer, on the left of the car, asks Bill and Carole if they are American
and the car has got an American license plate. He did not see me.
Whew! We drive until midnight before we take a room in an AMERICAN motel.

Wednesday: Bill suddenly says he has some shopping to do and must repair his car? So tonight no concert.
Damn! and re-damn!

Thursday: evening of the second concert in Cincinnati. We learn that yesterday Bob arrived on.... bike at the theater. We missed a splendid shot.
The tension will rise between the three of us. We are tired, stressed out and Carole is not patient. Bill and she will be fighting fiercely and she decides to return to New York. What will I do, I have no much money. This was the most difficult moment of my whole trip. Even in Europe where I had certainly less material comfort, I've never felt in a position where I depended entirely on the mood of someone else. All the decisions I had made were my own and in all conscience. We must share with a guy who certainly assists us - it's his car and we split the cost into three - but morally he is cold as ice and spiritually down, and though Carole is neither stupid nor mean - she will give me a lot of money -, but her mood swings and her verbal abuse scares me.
I also know that her Bob's approach is not without sex motives. Oh yes, I also dream of it but I would place the pure friendship far above, and with someone like Dylan, who has seen many "chicks" it is difficult, it takes a lot tact and patience which is not the best quality of Carole. But she has many others qualities. It must be said that she is much sexier than me and Bob is not indifferent to this kind of charm.
The hall is small but beautiful. Carole and I, we sit near the mixing board. Dylan wears the white cowboy's hat of  the Rolling Thunder Review, and for the first time makes a tasty "Shot of love". There is a large banner hanging from the balcony in huge letters "SHOT OF LOVE." Has he responded to the request? This does not move so much in the public though. We rush  towards the exit and toward the Greyhound station where we get Carole’s luggage that finally decided to go to La Fayette, where will be the next concert. We're Just back in time to see the hotels bus pulling away and we start following them. A mad race follows, the bus with Bob Dylan, Klydie and "VIPs" will stop near a restaurant. We refueled farther away, when we come back the bus has disappeared. Full speed on the highway and we overtake the musicians’ bus, we follow before returning to the "right one". What a panic. They go over 90 miles / h, it's crazy.
After four hours of anxiety, all these people stop at the isolated Sheraton. We also take a room. We fall asleep, exhausted, at five o'clock in the morning, knowing that Bob is somewhere very close.

Friday: we wake up at noon and Carole walks down the indoor pool hoping to find Bob. The pool is in the middle on a square surrounded by rooms on three floors arranged in a horseshoe. If you look out by the window, you see those who bathe. Bill and I go to a restaurant where we meet Stan, Howard and some of the musicians. Carole joins us there and discusses some time with Howard, who says he wants to do a movie with me, Mr President who happens to be on the Tour. I do not care if it's not Bob himself who asks. They don’t seem to love Bob much, all these people around, telling us all the time he’s a “bastard”.
I don’t pay much attention to it.
Rimbaud was a cad. Is what history should remember?
Maybe all geniuses are considered"cads". It’s not written on their graves!
I am angry against these guys, against the stupidity that they spread around, against the feelings and intentions they lend us, and we have not. They judge us by their own values, which are not worth a nail.

The sound was not good tonight, or the musicians, but the public was correct, rising to an ovation. Bob walking to the bus after the concert followed by a band of fans. He must be protected to avoid being crushed. I fear that a fan might hurt him and I think he should be angry. I was wrong, Howard will tell us that in fact he likes it very much. So, what do we know?

Saturday: Ann Arbor, near Detroit, to the north again! We are in the same hotel as Bob. Carole is somewhere with Howard and Bill is out. It is a luxury hotel. Bobby is not far, yet as far as if he was in Japan. I feel that the “blues” takes me. Do I chase a ghost? God only knows.
The concert was very good tonight. It's a small hall. We had tickets from Howard. I do not know what game they play ; Stan is more friendly and Howard is looking for Carole. They think we can be groupies, but they still keep us away from Bob.
He is well tonight. Does he know we're here? I use my "pass" and find myself in front of the stage and see my Sweet Heart very closely. You look good, Honey!
We return to the hotel, the Dylan Hotel. Carole and I look around the restaurant. Stan and Howard are there also, not very friendly. Meyers is there and Tim said good night, drunk or drugged? They all seem to hover. We're like an old piece of furniture in a modern decorum, completely displaced. Bob is not around, nor the girls. Is he “paranoid”? The first row was close to him tonight when people stood up for a standing ovation, Bob stepped back. Was he afraid to be hurt?
I am increasingly convinced that no one around him does know him well. Some of his attitudes may be. Who knows anyway? Certainly not me, I know too much or not enough. Does He knows himself?
I can not stand this atmosphere: hypocrisy, lies, harassment ... I feel like some jealousy around.
“jealousy and fear”
It’s too much for Bob and not enough for them. But what they offer me? Little of themselves. This is the Dylan concert, the Dylan "pass", the Dylan ticket ... what are they without him?
I thought at first that all problems were from the journalists: gossip and gossip. Now I know that it may be from the inner circle and it's a shame. How should Bob feel! under the pretext of protecting him. But perhaps he needs this solitude. He is a loner.
His world is so terrible: It's dark Bobby, is not it?
Gossips are going on : he still sends his children to Hebrew school and he doesn’t want to be called a Christian. So Jew for Jesus? Messianic Jew? I do not care for me He’s Bobby.

I do not know what to think of the public, they danced and clapped their hands. The atmosphere was warm. Some collectors have come for more material. My sister collects postage stamps, it is cheaper. What will they do with all this: tapes, badges, T-shirts, posters ... Open a museum when he died? I do not communicate at that level.
I'm probably the worst fan because I cling to the Man, not to his Art. I still have to grow. Detachment is a great ideal!

Tuesday: one day behind. This is the second concert in Ann Arbor, best of all musically, he was in great form though he didn’t crack a smile. Mr President gave me his address in Paris, but Stan is not very friendly, concerned about finding girls.
We went to the hotel just after the show hoping to say "good night", but he is already inside, he entered through the back door, a little trick.
We go to the restaurant and bar where we meet Fred, Howard, Mr President, Meyers. I speak French with Mr Roland-President he said he helped organize the French tour and that’s why he now travels with the Boss. I feel that he is not as close to Bob as I thought at first. He did not even see Renaldo & Clara! and he must leave after New Orleans. A great kid who is proud to be with Daddy Bobby. He will play the big guys against the fans, on occasion. Howard seems most interesting. He tells me a visit to India, where - Bob had never gone - where he met the Gypsy musicians, - gypsies are not from Egypt, contrary to popular belief, but from the Indies. And he tells about films that he shot ; "Eat The Document” - the title is taken from a passage in the Bible - " Renaldo & Clara "and also" Janis "on Janis Joplin. He tells me about the crazy fans who go to Malibu pretending to be Dylan Sisters, Dylan wives, messengers of the gods. You should know that the United States contain a packet of “nuts”!
The Governor of California has decided it would be cheaper to let them go free than to have them locked. But some are dangerous. So freedom yes, but not protecting his wallet at the expense of safety. These "leftovers" are inevitable in a society where you have to be iron to reach the Glory and where the value of a man is derived from his bank account. Every man is free to chose between God or the Devil. Bob must protect himself against these “nuts” and against us also, of course, and must decide who is madman and who is not.
But if Bob has the gift to distinguish the evil spirits from the good spirits, the minions do not have that faculty and for them everything is not safe and should be rejected. Hence the many conflicts between us and the security but also clashes between Bob and his own guards. After all he is not paranoid and he does not want to hurt anyone.

This we understood, it was a good part of the message.
It seems to me that I must be wrong somewhere too, because I have not seen Bob since the beginning of this Tour. He lives in total seclusion - solement he said once  word between exclusion and seclusion - and I hope it's not because of us. Probably not, because Howard will tell us that he would even like to be in a different hotel than the musicians’, and made a bad remark to Stan who looked too fixedly at him one day. Klydie is not there either, nor any of the singers. Maybe he does not care about us and that we are an effect and not a cause

Wednesday: We arrive in New Orleans in the afternoon, take a room just above the theater in the French Quarter that I think a Spanish style. We go to Bob Hotel, located thanks to the bus at the entrance and take a drink - mineral water - with Howard, Don, Meyers, and Roland. We are not talking about Bob. They chatter, most about them. Meyers has dutifully counted the bills that the waitress gave him - a hundred percent businessman. The bus driver who has to tell Bob that it's time to go, breathe deep five times before knocking on the Boss’ door. Is he afraid of being bitten? In any case, this is the impression that everyone gives.
At 6:00 p.m. we are at the stage door, alone. We say "Hello Bob" when he gets off the bus. He turns his head and disappears inside. Not very friendly this evening. We wait for the tickets promised by Howard and we see a girl go in with a large painting of a nun, the Virgin Mary? Another guy comes up with a splendid portrait of Dylan. The guy is rejected but the girl is still inside. When she leaves she tells us that Bob took the picture and she got a kiss.
We are beginning to grow impatient about tickets and force the door, immediately stopped by Don who begins a long diatribe about his job. Even, he, he says can not cross certain barriers, space is limited. Demonstrating that his zeal to push the curious has a tint of jealousy, revenge against people who have nothing to do with his position, and also that he is not very close to the Boss. We do not want to bother Bob, but just get what he promised. Finally we get the damn tickets. Thank you, Bobby!
Inside we are far but still on the ground. The sound is horrible and Bob plays on an accelerated pace, as if afraid to miss his plane. He does not smile nor look at the singers. Something has definitely upset him today. Yet he tries a new song "There's a thief on the cross." Is this one of his songs? "Let's begin" was not his.
We run in the front  for the encore. Bob looks at us?
We go to the hotel to wish him "good evening". He rushes in like a bull. The staff is especially hostile tonight. Who they think they are? They are all "super-egos."
They say they like us because we do not push, we're not groupies, but at the same time they would like us to be their groupies. But why? For some information? We are smart enough to find the Bob hotels, anyway they do not know their Boss. Do they like him? I doubt it. Meyers tells us he does not like music, Bob’s or others. Yet it must be Bob choosing his staff. As he tries not to be understood, to hide his feelings deeply. With that kind of person it’s unlikely that his secrets are laid bare. He is himself so personal that they may be his own reflection, and it is I who is wrong. But I can not stop thinking of the day in San Francisco when he asked so nicely if I had a place to stay, in Santa Monica where he offered me money, in Basel, where he put me in his bus, in Montreal where he came to me and smiled so warmly. Is it much? Is this normal? Is it worth the price I paid?
Lire phonétiquement
I do not know, I lose my sense of judgement. I do not know who to believe, what to believe, I do not know what I'm doing here. I think of Elvis Presley, who died in a solitude so complete because his bodyguards thought they were more important than his fans, especially because the Colonel thought that contact with reality would make him lose his foal, the golden eggs goose -The King has not lost his crown but lost his head. Sometimes you have to choose.

Wednesday: New Orleans. I tan in the sun. I take a coffee and the famous ‘beignets’ at "Le Café du Monde." Some musicians in the streets, some painters. Mr President didn’t join me this morning for a city tour together. So I'll go alone. I burn a candle for Bob in a church. This is the same God for all, isn’t it?
Another concert here and we go to Houston, Texas. I meet Steve Ripley, with his wife and child, so cool with a look so punk! Fred Tacket is more than "clean" too. He does not understand that Carole - who said she was married - can run freely after a Rock Star. And I thought being a rocker was having an unorthodox way of life? I realize in the States, being a musician is a job like any other.
We are sited at a cafe, Carole and I, when Howard, who has seen us, joins us and we are vehemently preached: "You can have all the tickets you want but do not come close to the hotel." Carole request
"Did someone complain?". We are mad. What did we do so deplorable? We simply wonder whether these instructions come from Bob or not.
A 18:00 p.m.. We wait by the stage door. Bill said he saw Bob jogging with Stan in the streets of New Orleans and made a walk in the bars, chatting with local musicians, "the ballad of a jogging man." I am happy he’s taking care of himself. We wait a half hour and see Bob, Stan and someone else down the street. Bob runs a little ... and falls in front of us. Stan helps him up and he enter with a smile anyway. We were afraid he was hurt, but no. Meyers arrives and tells us that our tickets are awaiting us at the Box Office. One by one we say goodnight to the musicians. Klydie only says "glad to see you," finally a decent human being.
We raise our head to see an open window, where Klydie shows herself. Carole asks
‘Is "Thief on the cross" a Bob song? "
Klydie disappears a minute and comes back saying
" yes. "
She did not know before? Then Don arrives and simply smiles. He does not look angry. Even Mr President says good night. So what is this "story"?
We are entering a splendid theater ; marble columns, sculptures, statues ... We are nine rows from the stage. Howard holds a camera ready to shoot. Mr President arrives in costume "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome in New Orleans, I am pleased to present the show tonight: Bob Dylan" - in French -. Howard films "Gotta serve somebody." Is it for French T.V.? The concert is good, Bob is in a good mood. He picks up a paper that a girl has throw in, smiles and says
"I will copy this note as soon as I return to the hotel."
He talks about  flying tomorrow, so we are sure he will fly to Houston and then present a new song. Carole tells me it's an old song of the 60’s. We are moving ahead painfully for the encore  , security is horrible, they push us violently back, creating more mess.

We arrive in Houston late in the afternoon, just long enough to find a room at the hotel and go to the hall. We wait by the back stage door, one hour, two hours ... It is 7:45 p.m.Bob is not there. We meet Don. He scolds us we ; should not be there, and we’ll have no tickets.
Meyers adds
 "you will not have tickets, you must not stay there"
It is a conspiracy! The Mafia? The FBI? War is declared, get your weapons. Two other people are waiting. Are they supposed to be there or elsewhere? What danger do we represent? We wait for Bobby anyway. We have nothing to lose.
"When you really get nothing, you got nothing to lose".
We are free now. We know that we do not have to depend on anyone for anything.
We wait until8:00 p.m.. He is very late. Meyers panics -we're not very reassured-. Suddenly the bus arrives. There is an indoor garage, but to get there the bus has to get down the ramp. Surprisingly the bus stops and Bob walks down a travel bag on his shoulder. He looks at us without expression. Carole says
 "Welcome to Houston."
He just makes a face and disappears. Howard arrives and asks if we have our tickets. Of course not. He runs away. After a while we decide to go with our passes, we are on  the left of the stage.
The concert begins like any other and then suddenly "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol" alone on acoustic guitar. Tonight he’s OK, nothing more. In first encore, we move to the far left to see Bob on piano. The mike drops, Bob pushes it, gets up, goes to his guitar, witch does not work, takes his harmonica that falters. He sings anyway "It's alright ma" "It ain’t me babe", "Knockin On Heaven's Door" and the star moves away.
We go out and look near the bus. A young man explains that he will die of cancer and would like an autograph from Bob. I lend him my pass. When he returns, he shows a quotation from the Bible on the back of a poster from Bob’s hands. I'm happy for the guy and happy to see that Bob has a big heart. What I personally have never doubted.

Sunday 15: We arrive in the afternoon. We head to the theater around 6:00 p.m. ​​to realize that the musicians are already inside. We wait, however. The second bus arrives with Regina and Clydie. No Bob. We think he could go through another door, but Don and Howard are still waiting, too. Half an hour and we see him walking down the street. Some young people ask for an autograph. There's one that takes a picture with a flash "I do not like it" Bob said.
We are entering with passes. These "passes" they are funny: sometimes they allow us to enter, sometimes not.
Tonight also "The lonesome death of Hattie Carol". And again the microphone falls for "Blowin' in the wind."
We're backstage with the "pass". What a mess! There are girls everywhere. Models without a soul. Who are they? Klydie gives us a big kiss. Thank you!
We expect Bob, who rushes into the bus with the hood of jogging on the head.
"Bye bye Bobby."
Carole and I take a dinner in a restaurant late at night when Howard joins us. He starts to chat and reveals the great story
when we went to say goodnight to Bob after the show the in New Orleans, Bob whispered :
" Oh these girls again! "
Meyers immediately took this remark seriously and took the opportunity to get rid of us completely and permanently. Hence the blackmail: if you are invisible we give your tickets.
Howard begins to talk about of the fans trap: we must not be attached too much to an idol - there is a whiff of Judaism in this idea - we must cling to the Art and not to the man - as Meyers said,
"go see all the concerts you want, but do not try to get close to Bob, you'd be disappointed." - We make too much for him, we are excessive, do not be too romantic because it can lead to a fatal issue, and here he looks at me in the face.
I think he did not know me.
 I learned later that it was he, who was led to the fatal issue, as what my reasoning was not wrong, they judge us by their own values ​​and with someone as egocentric as Howard, according to their own feelings. He speaks of thousands of fan letters that Bob receives and thus we learn that Howard sorts the mail, he gives Bob what he considers worthy of value.
It tells us that Bob is whimsical. Dylan had a house built for Howard, then they separated for five years, reconciled, and when Howard got divorced he went to live in the Bob’s studio. He says - and insists - that the friends of Bob are not his fans, a way of saying that we have no chance - When Howard asked him to do a song for children, Dylan would have released "The Animal" – He’s someone of his closest friends, but he does not know his relationship with Sara. I ask him how come He is walking around the Theaters when all his fans are there. He answers with a touch of irony:
"He feels invisible."
He goes on further by saying that this Tour is exceptional and very hard on Bob, he needs space and solitude. In short, he tells us nothing we did not already know, certainly nothing really essential.
I felt afterwards that he tried a clever way to get us away from Bob. Since the force did not work and since he knew that above all we wanted to meet with Bob, he trained us to think that the best way to love him was to leave him alone, never to see or be viewed outside concerts. It did not work for the sole reason that Bob himself did not seem bothered by our presence. The remark made in New Orleans, we have not taken personally. It is also possible that that night he was upset not at us in particular. We asked him many times in San Francisco, in 79 if our presence at the hotel bothered him and he told us, clearly and without ambiguity,
"not at all."
Carole and I are sensible enough to know when to leave him his privacy.
How many times could I find myself in his path "by chance"? How many times could I have knock on his door? How many times could I have bother him for a ticket? - And God knows how much I needed those damn tickets! –
For nothing in the world I would have missed a concert, because I love them and they are moving me into another world, a world where we have the right to think that everything can be Love, Peace and Freedom.

15, in Atlanta. After a night of complete confusion. Howard has managed to make me feel very bad about myself -. Bill drives all the way to Atlanta without a word. Carole asleep behind. A 5:00 p.m., Mr President says hello and then we wait for over an hour. The musicians have already arrived. Don is out and says nothing. We now know the habit and we are not surprised to see Bob walking down the street with his driver. He watches us carefully through his glasses but he says nothing, expresses nothing. Some onlookers shake his hand. Howard helps us - despite the yesterday sermon - to go back stage. Has he noticed that his moralizing would be useless?
We are on the left of the stage and nothing seems to work ; for the third song the guitar stopped working, Bob grabs the acoustic one and then returns to the Electric. He approaches the edge of the stage and take a bewildered look into the void - the pit of the orchestra -. He mumbles into the microphone, moves with force of arms in the air, puts his hand in his hair, bends on his knees, swings his guitar. He seems strange as if he were drunk. He is terribly sexy. The songs are getting better, the words come easily, but the pace is never the same and musicians always seem to have trouble keeping up.

Suddenly we learn that Bill will not go to Miami with his car, Carole and I decide anyway to finish the tour. We do not know exactly how. We ask for the first time the musicians bus driver if the could take us in his bus. He tells us that it's okay if none of the musicians is traveling in the bus. He explains that there is a great discussion between Meyers and employees: if they fly Atlanta-Miami that will be at their own expense, if they take the bus it’s free. Is it a directive of the Great Boss? Is Meyers paid a percentage on the profits from the tour? This does not suit us a lot. If the bus is full we are forced to fly to Miami. We will stay in Carole’s parents home for four days. Can we rent a car to finish the round? At the point we reached it would be a shame to miss the end, although I do not expect from Bob more than a smile. To see him on stage every day makes him more familiar and more friendly. We find by accident or by a simple “twist of fate”, the hotel where he stayed. But Carole will just take some pictures. What else? Even if we see Bob, we know too well that we should be invisible and not approach. So we keep the our distance.

On November 16, 1981: we are in our usual position, at the stage door. It is 6:00 p.m.. We do not feel guilty for being there because we are not alone. Fans among the fans. As a precaution we bought two airline tickets to Miami, but we hope a ride on the bus. - 'Silver Light Express' - the musicians -. We ask Mickey, the driver. He informs us that unfortunately this is not possible, there is one guy who will travel and it will be ... Meyers! Always in our feet that one! We think to offer him fifty dollars to take us. I truly believe he would not have refused, but is "bad luck"! Then we'll fly. The wind is cold. The musicians come in, not happy to see us. They must take us for “nuts” them, who are tired of seeing Dylan face, enough of his mood swings.
In 79 Carole found herself in the presence of one of his singers and had offered a picture that was taken during a concert. The singer happy
 "is it a group photo?"
Carole "No, just Bob,"
the singer dismissive
"no thank you, I've seen enough of him."
The bus arrives. Nobody leaves. Carole pinches me and asks to look at the other side of the street. Stan, Howard, Don and Bobby are walking down the street. Bob reads something and staggers like a drunk. He crosses the street and passes by us. He whispers
before signing an autograph for someone. Until he reaches the stage-door no one but us recognized him, although all were waiting for him. Is he really invisible? He is not at all angry with us. There are good days and bad days, we expect the good ones, we want to be there when it happens. This is our life, our patience, our money we put at play, our mental health too. Nobody has the right to tell us what we have to do as long as we do not hurt Bob physically and mentally, and we do not intend to hurt him. these individuals must be distraught at our attitude.
The concert was good tonight. The orchestra pit was closed with a board. Probably on Bob request. He seemed very concerned the other  night about this gaping hole in front of him.
 It starts fine until a girl jumps on stage, trying to snatch his glasses and probably trying to kiss him. He steps back, pursued by the girl to the back. It takes a few minutes before a tough guy grabs the girl and takes her elsewhere. I am stunned. Mike Jagger, Elvis Presley, but Dylan? For a moment I was afraid. And if she had a knife? No one moved on time to save him. What security? Don, Stan, and others? It was time to interfere with zeal! But this one was less dangerous than us probably! I'm afraid that he would be in a foul mood. No, he jokes at the microphone,
 "she took me literally” - he sang 'I'll be your baby tonight'
“she should have been here ten years ago"
He feels so old? It ended well and at the end he moves to the edge of the stage. To prove that he fears nothing? To make the public believe that he is not paranoid? I still wonder why he had covered the pit?
We look at the back stage door as usual. The two buses are parked right outside the door, but the crowd is so dense that we know - Carole and I – he will not go out there. We watch carefully when we see Don at the wheel of a car heading to the side of the theater. Klydie gets on the bus and the car goes sideways. Bob is sitting in front with his jogging hood on the head. He has played a good trick.
 I just do not understand: sometimes he walks around the alleys through the fans and now he’s hiding to get out. Is he afraid of a crowd so important?
Carole and I take a hotel room. This is where we separate from Bill. Our plane is at 8:25 a.m. tomorrow morning.
An hour and a half flight and we are in Miami, home of her parents. The first thing her mother is asking us is if we are hungry and prepares a meal. Now she does our laundry. We have two days break before the first concert in Miami. Although everyone is very nice, I do not feel at ease. I lose my vision of what I came to this country for. Much is said about marriage and children in this Jewish family, much as the Nazis. Two family members are survivors of death camps, they still bear physical marks and moral marks. I read the manuscript of a book written by the man, reality is stronger than fiction with horror and I say “NEVER AGAIN”, be it against Jews or any other ethnicity - half a million Gypsies also died there in the camps -. How many Indians were slaughtered in the land of freedom, how many Vietnamese and Cambodians have disappeared, how many Argentinians, Chileans, Bolivians ...?
In short, stop these massacres in the name of religion, politics, skin color ...
Carole's father immediately put the situation clear about Dylan.
“He is under much pressure and so many people depend on him -he's an industry - he is so brilliant and " great " that he must cling to something larger than himself, more "high." Not the "chicks" or even his friends -who are not even at his level - not even his family. But he must cling to "God" and this did not surprise him who is Jewish, that Bob gets to Jesus.”
Even Howard was not so keen, he hopes that Bob will not continue to preach Jesus. He told us that he’s bored, though he remains. Or is he too close Bob to have an objective view? - What I was blamed for -.
Tonight the family burns a candle for the deceased. There is the Star of David on the wall, family photos. But the father does not eat "kosher". I do not really understand what rituals they follow. What does it mean to be Jewish? Be circumcised, having his Bar Mitzvah, speak Hebrew? Is it a religion, race, culture, few traditions? I think they have never felt so Jews since the Holocaust, the suffering has put them back together. But they should be careful not to fall into the opposite extreme, fanaticism and resentment open the door to all crimes. That's what I thought during those two days.

There is a concert tonight and we wonder how we will be accepted. I guess nothing has changed. We go to the theater early in the afternoon. It is located very far away from everything. There are no hotels nearby and Carole think the band must live near the beach. We make a turn in that direction and spot the two buses in a parking lot. The hotel faces the sea. If we were two stupid groupies we would rush into the entrance, we would pretend  to have an appointment with Mr Dylan. With some luck, we would pick up the number of his room. Then we would knock on his door stating how much we love him and how much he needs us. But as we are well-behaved girls, and everybody knows, and knows how to enjoy (?), We simply take a walk on the beach as far as possible from the windows facing the sea. We feel so bad that we return to the hall.
One of these small and luxurious rooms. We go in with our "pass" and we ask out Stan if he could help us find chairs.
"No", he says – “you have caused enough chaos, I can not help you. "
But what chaos? The incident in New Orleans? But it's the past, man! I am sure that Bob himself even forgot. And never mind if Stan is stupid. We find a security guy who helps us. We are on the far right of the stage, we see only the back of Bob, and singers hide half of him. He seems more relaxed but still pale as a ghost. We note with surprise that since the beginning of the tour - almost a month ago - he wears the same stage outfit. We hope he has a series of black T-shirts or at least he cleans them. Howard told us that every time the band makes a break for at least two days, there is a line to the laundry. And he says with delight that even Bob would wash his socks in the sink. He adds that from the entire band Bob has the least amount of luggage - two - but watch out if he lose a pants or a shirt ! That must be why one day he showed up in Europe on stage with a pair of pants that was two times too long for him and three times too large. He must have borrowed it from his bodyguard. Anyway that did not bother him to sing! The staff is the least friendly. Mickey is the only one who knows that the concert in Talahasse is canceled, lack of tickets sale. Without him we would have moved for nothing. We decided nevertheless to get to the hotel after the Écouter
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concert. Carole is afraid and remain hidden near the dustbins at two hundred meters from the door. Stan arrives with the Boss guitar and Bob: white pants and jacket, finally Klydie a bouquet of flowers by hand. No Don, no Meyers ... We do not move. Terribly angry against ourselves, we return to the car. We decided after deliberation to take a walk on the beach. Carole sees Howard everywhere and we hide in the shadows. Someone out of the water is Klydie who took a midnight swim. Carole march to the sea and suddenly comes back on all fours, murmuring with hysteria,
 "he comes out, he comes out "
as if he was God the Father himself. I look at the hotel. There is a chair outside and see the legs between the shrubs. Yes it is God -forgive- Bob himself .. We see a chance to approach the unapproachable. With a mountain of courage we move into the throne. Bob is not alone, joined by Klydie. I feel immediately that we invade their private property, but it is too late. Bob is watching from the corner of the eye behind his dark glasses, but what does he do with sunglasses at this hour? - The situation is critical: between us and the couple there is a low wall and a lawn. We are blocked. Carole murmurs, somewhat not confident,
"um, is it possible to take a little of your time?".
Bob says nothing, but makes  no with his hand. The message is
"leave me alone."
Carole is trying to pursue
"the concerts were fun, we love your music".
A freezing cold invades us. I sign to Carole it would be better not to insist, and we move away, upset. The trial had fallen, we were on their “flower beds”. Carole crack
"He was so cold, unbelievable."
Oh yes, he can be cold as an iceberg, the Geminis are extremists. We feel like two fools, completely emptied and discarded, this time, by the man himself. He will hate us the rest of his life. We cling so much to his every word, his every move that the sky fell on my head. What have we done to deserve such a reception? It's almost the end of the Tour, we would like to thank him for everything and tell her how much we love his music. Maybe he did not understand what we wanted, perhaps he doesn’t want any thanks?
I feel uncomfortable with the idea of ​​having caught him in privacy. It seems like I pushed the door of his room. I do not want him to live as a recluse at the same time I forced him to contain. It is difficult to resolve a contradiction. Could he have been less cold?
Bill told us that one day a couple of people broke into his room by the balcony with a bottle of champagne. Bob did not rebel, he invited people and discussed with them. Did he feel trapped? Was he, that day, in a good mood? It's hard to know with Dylan!
Anyway so far I do not feel bad conscience. Apart from the incident in New Orleans, there was no clash. We can not say that I have been terribly annoying because after all I did two big tours on my own, I rarely asked for tickets, even more rarely a walk in the bus. Didn’t I deserve some “extra”?.
But is it a right since I was never asked to do this?
I have no regrets, it's an experience to attend his entourage, a glimpse of showbiz, living on the road, traveling to the United States, to meet some of his fans the most important: Bill the largest collector and Carole as crazy as me. Most of all to hear quality music.
Tonight there is still a concert but we are not happy. From the top of a hill I look at the parking lot where the bus arrives. Bob gets down from the bus and for the first time goes to the few fans that are there. He chats with a couple and a baby, with a guy in a wheelchair. We enter for free but that's another story to find a seat. We search all around the room before we found seats far in the bottom. I look through binoculars and Bob is like a movie. Bob is there on the screen and I do know where I am ; in another world, another life. Something woke me up: for the first time he’s playing "Tom Thumb Blues"; Thanks for the surprise.
After the show, I return on my hill where I am chased by the cops. I hide with binoculars. The Musicians enter the "silver express", then in the other bus, Klydie, Howard, Don, Stan and Bob. He is wearing as usual a blue jogging - not surprised that he has only two suitcases-Through the tinted windows, I see Clydie and Howard discussing in the front, in the dining room . Bobby is in the back with the bicycle he used in Cincinnati. Who could believe it? Bob's famous rock stars arriving on bicycle to his concert! There would also be the painting of this chick. The Virgin Mary!

Saturday.  We get up early, we rent a car, we buy a map of Florida. On the road to Lakeland, the last concert. Five-hour drive through the orange groves of Forida. Lakeland is a small city. We are sure to find their hotel ... We search for about an hour before giving up. We admire the scenery before joining the Civic Center, about 8000 seats. We decide to buy a ticket at any price. We are convinced that Bob hates us. The staff we did not care, but Bob, it made us much worried. We wait, however, by the back stage door. The first bus discharges his musicians. The second is coming. We are a dozen waiting. Stan gets down and waits ... waits. Bob gets out half asleep - Howard told us that he sleeps on the bus or he reads He chats with Stan then comes to us.
"Oh my God oh my God!" Carole murmurs.
He covered his head with his hood, but no sunglasses. He smiles and walks to me
"Hello Laurette"
He shakes my hand kindly, warmly. He says something to Carole, mentioning that he has known her for three years. He has a good memory. He says hello to a guy next to me and asks if he has work.
I keep my eyes on him! He looks fragile and shy, he does not speak, he whispers, and never stops smiling, a sincere smile.
He walks away and goes on back stage. Not one of us has taken a picture or asks for an autograph. They are all shocked. So we are! It means so much to us ; he forgives us and has no hard feelings, he loves us.... Unbelievable! He felt remorse after the beach? Or did he want to say goodbye to us anyway?
Suddenly the doors are open. We enter. Our seats are very far when we decide to ask Stan, who was with Bob when he said hello, if he would like to add chairs. He puts two just in front of microphone. He himself is sitting in front flanked by two girls, the kind of girls that look like puppets rather than human beings. Stanley, from what I heard, is Bob's personal physician - at least on the road-. Thank you for these wonderfully two chairs: it's like being in a room with Bob playing near us, so close, - yet so far -. The first three songs are uncertain. There's commotion in front of the stage. Stan is too preoccupied with his chicks to intervene. I get involved asking people to return to their seats, what nerve! - This seems to annoy Bob and he grabs his harmonica at the end of "I believe in you" - he has never done it before -. Finally the crowd seats down and the show goes on. We can see him bend on his knees, moves his legs, he shouts into the microphone
"how does it feel? How Does It Feel?".
Pretty good, thank you! He was great tonight .. This is the farewell concert. The public is good, singing "Like a Rolling Stone", rising to an ovation. For the first time "Every grain of sand". Howard said he had requested this song, adding "I do not know if he will remember the words." But no, he has not forgotten ... "In the garden" is the final. We get up to greets him, and Bob points to us
"Hi Bobby" "Hi, girls!"
Stan beckons and we find ourselves at the foot of the microphone, so close we can touch his shows. "Blowin  in the wind" and a gift "love minus zero / no limit" - one of my favorite songs - had he guessed? - "It's alright ma", "It ain’t Me babe. "
I sing along with Bob, who looks down to see me. I grab some of his energy and hopefully a bit of his spirit. He grabs a bell, sticks and begins to beat the pace. I know it will be
"Jesus Is The One" "Jesus .... Is the one .... Jesus ... Is the One "bing bing, clap, clap!" “Knockin 'on Heaven's Door "and it's all over.
We go on back stage for the last time. We want to thank Stan, who runs away. He does not tell us his name. He never knew what position to take against us. I hope he is better doctor than psychologue. Meyers he’s a businessman but .... Carole said to have seen him kissing a girl back stage. Don, he puts us squarely at the door. We decide to follow the bus. We find ourselves outside the city at a luxury hotel.
We find that Bill did his little game of detective. He tells us that everyone, including Bob met at the bar. There is certainly no way for us to disturb them.

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During this trip we had humiliation, we could have had a good time but it probably was not allowed.
We have in mind to stay in the hotel parking lot and sleep in the car, where we see Don, and Meyers who loads the bus with luggage. Bill, Dylan driver, cleans his bus and throws some stuff in the trash. We're trying to sleep in the back of the car but it is so cold that we can not sleep. Carole gets up and goes rummaging through the trash -Weberman is back-We get a treasure of fruit baskets with apples, oranges, nuts ... small packages of cereal with raisins, dried flowers and a banana-shaped harmonica.
Did Bob blow in it? No written note. We can not help laughing at our situation: we are freezing in a hotel parking lot with the leftover trash from Mr Bob Dylan.
This is the final touch of a great dream. A dream come true.