Expecting Rain

And I thought we had it bad......

http://dearbobdylan.wordpress.com/

Well, we do have it that bad.....we're just more tactful..... ...most of the time..

Anyone we know, do you think? I checked out Ms Zaran's bio. Inconclusive.

Oh L-rd

Is anyone else reminded of Mark David Chapman?

A bit, however, I think we've built up a resistance to that here

Holy god. I just read a few bits of it, but that was pretty creepy.

It's like Trixie, but with punctuation.

That woman's poor husband must be mortified! I hope I don't ever inflict my personal obsession on the world to such an extent. We should let it be a lesson to us to try and retain some dignity. Bob Dylan is alive and breathing (thank goodness), a real person with feelings, and not some kind of fantasy figure, although he clearly touches all of our hearts. Personally I just want him to recommend me a brand of socks to wear with my cowboy boots! He's given me enough other things already. (Oh and of course there's my thing on the other thread about horse-riding and margaritas, but that really is meant as just a bit of fun... I actually mix quite a mean margarita myself. After all I'd die of thirst waiting for Bob to come round and do these things for me!)

And I think her poetry sucks, so there. She has to be on Bob's list of loonies.

Who's Trixie? Maybe you'd better not tell me. I'm going to make myself a margarita now. See you later.

She links to this site on her main page, so she is probably a poster here.

I can't even read the drivel its toooo much for me

Just Like A Woman (it's ok, I've already assumed the brace position).

Well, this is pretty much why Bob Dylan has enough security to host a remake of Battle Royale.

And thank f*** for that!

I made my husband a margarita too (a nice big one). I haven't asked him if he's happy yet. Do you think I should? We had a little joke about my Dylan obsession. That will probably be 'good enough for now'.

Dear Lisa Zaran,

You're $#@&!!^ crazy.

Yeah. Bless her possessed little heart. She's probably one of ours.

(from the way the boys were carrying on, I expected a hekuva lot worse. . .death threats or something)

Dear

Stella Where did you get those Rose and from Whom HeeHeeYeah!!!

I thought she was cute.

if I was not so normal and . . . male, I could definitly see myself doing that. well ok, probably not, but I like Bob Dylan alot

Well, LJ, first of all, I didn’t want to read the whole thing, but then made myself go back and trudge through it, for in fairness how can one comment without reading the whole nine yards?

What struck me most is that I was reminded of the idea that we think we are all so unique…and it’s just not so. I’ve been a Dylan fan for some 40 years (with a few years in between for furlough & reprieve, and the mistaken notion I could "move on" and lay it aside ) and that could have been me, in some ways , 30 years ago (there are some advantages fortunately, LJ, as you know yourself, to growing older ). In fairness to myself, however, I'm not the type of person who would get into that mode without reciprocity and encouragement from the object of my fantasy.

As far as being creepy is concerned -- I suppose it could be considered that in this day and age. When I was young, there were crazies around to be sure, and some of us “peace & love” folks were perhaps a little too enthusiastic and carried away with the spontaneous, egalitarian concept of the time, but rarely with evil intent. (I do think Dylan overreacted a bit in perception of the Woodstock scene in Chronicles. But then it’s a well known fact that he has a tendency to be shy and paranoid. Don’t let that accessible and friendly, fellow well met, smile on Nashville Skyline fool you. On the street, his don’t approach me under any circumstances mask was well in place! But I guess just as we can only imagine his life, he would also not really know what it's like to be on the other side of the fence...much less wall! )

It wasn’t so common to have “celebrity stalkers” years ago. Then a fan was just a fan and all those rabid Sinatra and Elvis fans were considered just silly and sort of amusing. I suppose John Lennon’s death brought an end to a kind of innocence.

As for the author of this treacle is concerned, compartmentalizing her life as she does (the husband/family a sort of necessary afterthought, it seems) may be fairly harmless to everyone but I suspect in the end, she is harming herself -- and if that’s all she does, I suppose that’s her own business, after all is said and done.

I must be feeling generous today – the line that did stand out from this woman’s writing was “ I like how remote you are while delivering your songs with such yearning. "

And yes, in general terms, the muse, I think, sometimes gets way too diffused! When things become public, physically remote, screened and edited for impersonal, curious, censorious eyes; when the past gets replayed one too many times without significant one-on-one interaction-- well, the results are just not going to be as dynamic as if it were otherwise...sort of like a "watered down love," if you know what I mean.

But what is...is. You do what you can do and that's all you can do -- but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

Sometimes those who have the power don't have the will, and those who have the will don't have the power. And sometimes neither one will have the power or the will. Naturally, that's when the wheels fall off!

This didn't seem creepy to me, just devoted to its literary form of address. The writing doesn't appear delusional, just thoughtful. The subject is limited by the pretext of address, but that limit is part of the self-imposed pressure to create something meaningful. She writes like a poet writing prose. She also writes like she knows what she is doing in this diary. I see no resemblance to Tricksee who wrote with less self-awareness than almost any adult I've ever encountered.

It's also kind of boring, like most fan writing. At least she avoids the minefields of Street Legal, Dylan's private romantic life, his religious beliefs, etc. and seems to stick to what his music means to her own imaginative process. But I did not read more than the available page, saw nothing there to encourage a review of her archives, or anything else she might have written.

You forgot to put that in the "hate"-thread, Albert...

Aww. . .that's really sweet, Albert. I thought the same thing when I read her stuff.

Just somebody a little lonely, a little enamored of Bob. Which. . . let's face it. . .most of us around here can relate to if we're really being honest with ourselves.