Liberating Not To Be Wondering

There I was searching for news that had nothing to do with Donald Trump.  How liberating not be wondering, for a moment, how he has responded to his latest outrage?  Has he said something new and salacious?  Any indignities from his past been newly uncovered?  What do Paul Ryan, Mitch McConnell, or Ted Cruz say about their allegiance after this latest outrage?  What a tired, simpleton's game.  

But tonight, it was, for a while at least, all about Zimmy.  A Nobel Prize for literature to an American.  That’s a fine thing.  But it was awarded to Bob Dylan? Remarkable. Suddenly everyone or my wife at least, was curious enough ask about who he was and suggest we throw some of his work on and consider who he was, and how he fits into American history and the fact that he lives near our U.S. home in Woodstock, New York.  

I looked for something to listen to on Spotify.  Possibilities had broadened considerably since the days when we simply bought albums.  There were a dozen different bootleg, outtake, basement tape possibilities next to everything that had been officially released.  I threw on “The Cutting Edge  1965, 1966..  The Bootleg Series, Vol 12, Sampler”, which had all these marvelous versions of the classic cuts from “Bringing It All Back Home," "Highway 61 Revisited” and “Blond on Blond.”  ‘She Belongs to Me” sounding similar but unique. I didn’t recognize at all the strange, sped up version of “Visions of Johanna.”  I’d so rather spend time with Zimmerman, than Trump.  (Though, for the life of me I can't find the original "Positively Fourth Street" on Youtube nor Spotify.)

A quick check to the news and it appears that the King of Thailand had passed and was being widely mourned in the country. Another newsworthy matter that had nothing to do with the election cycle. The world’s longest living monarch has passed.  A controversial figure, certainly as I recall from the one work I'd read “The King Never Smiles” as the book by Paul M. Handley.  I'd read that in Thailand and was always worried about being nabbed for lese majeste there by the pool.  But he was a figure of unity if also stasis who helped to avert violence on more than one occasion and seemingly wore the burden of royal rule with an eye towards service and comparative asceticism. He was also a jazz fan.

I know tomorrow morning it will be back to the news cycle.  Between now and when I head to bed, we’re likely to get more revelations about who Donald insists he did not molest.  Perhaps Wiki Leaks will release more private emails of HRC as well.  But for now, I am content to think of of the odd juxtaposition between King Bhumibol (a jazz composer, in his own right) and Bob Dylan, who is fortunately still alive and well.  Indeed this Noble Prize has had me culling over his life's trajectory as if he had actually passed.  And this is made all the more enjoyable, knowing he hasn't  May he live long enough to enjoy this new distinction for a while. And certainly to see Trump soundly defeated.