Date: Mon, 16 Oct 1995 20:52:12 GMT
From: "Sorabh Saxena; Masters" (ssaxena@COE1.ENGR.UMBC.EDU)
Subject: Atlanta 10/11/95 -- AT The Hotel
I hope you'll have in your heart to forgive me if
this doesn't appeal to you. What I am trying to
do is to write an essay, with at its crux the
concert on 10/11/95. Here's the first part out
of the three thus far planned postings. Other two will
follow soon.
AT THE HOTEL
------------
I reached back to my Hotel room around 6:00 pm with an
accomplishing day at work tucked under my belt. As far
as I was concerned the day hadn't even begun yet.
Through the distant clock work clang of pneumatic hammers,
fighting against time to prepare the city of Atlanta as
a sacrificial lamb to be offered at the altar of Zeus, I
could hear the familiar, thin, mercurial voice.
"Positively 4th Street" was leaping out of the radio.
I asked myself, "Why do they play only "Like A Rolling Stone,"
"Rainy Day Woman," and this song?" And I pondered upon the
dichotomy of what really *is* and what we *see* ("Seeing
is believing," yeah sure, but what is shown.....is that
the whole picture or a minute part of it?). How,
he'll be remembered only for what he was, and not what he is.
How, one the best performing period in the life of one of the
most natural artist will go vastly unnoticed. How, the nuggets
that he has left behind engraved in time will be so ruthlessly
painted over with a thick coat of cheap paint, with the brush
being the media machine. I digress, however. Suffices to say
that this trip down desolation row ended with me feeling
particularly fortunate for, atleast in one case, I am
trying to peel through the paint to see the nugget.
-----
--
Sorabh
