Bob Dylan
I saw Bob Dylan the other day at the zoo. He was doing a gig for the elephants and tigers. John was mucking about and ended up in with the tigers. He lost an arm by the time we got him out and Dylan stopped playing. I remember I looked at him as the zookeepers were fighting to keep the tigers away from John; I said 'What are you waiting for Dylo? Play the tiger song!' And he played. Oh how he played!
The tiger song has been played four times in the history of man. The first time was when Jonsey MacDonald of Persia was driving through to Baghdad in a second hand chariot he got from Bigsy Cromwell, the used chariot dealer. I don't know why he played it but he did. The moment was recorded by a lady farmer he passed by. He didn't stop to say hello, nor even wave, but she knew it was him from reports she'd heard from travelling story-tellers, at that time the best form of entertainment a man or a woman could hope for.
The second time the tiger song was played was a hundred or so years ago, at a dance in Colombo, in what was then known as Ceylon. It was requested by a young man, a poet, who was in love with the daughter of the governer - general. The song was played, the dancing stopped and the young man chased out of the house for daring to woo a European. It was a disgusting situation.
The song was played for a third time at the end of the second world war at a concert in Vienna. That was a beautiful rendition, wavering between true happiness and bleak despair. As the echoes of the last verse made their way out of the hall a woman stood up on the balcony and declared that she did, in fact, exist.
And so I was very proud that it was in my presence, and at my insistence, that this ancient composition was given a fourth airing. My stupid friend John was laughing hysterically as a tiger ripped his left arm away, but when the music began he stopped laughing and made soft little farting noises with his tongue. The tigers immediatelly stopped attacking him, got up on their hind legs and danced a Russian dance. We were all astonished, but Bob Dylan did not stop playing. The only downside about the whole day was us missing the number 22 on the way home and having to take a 48.
I hate the 48 because it is green.
Green, mean.
The tiger song has been played four times in the history of man. The first time was when Jonsey MacDonald of Persia was driving through to Baghdad in a second hand chariot he got from Bigsy Cromwell, the used chariot dealer. I don't know why he played it but he did. The moment was recorded by a lady farmer he passed by. He didn't stop to say hello, nor even wave, but she knew it was him from reports she'd heard from travelling story-tellers, at that time the best form of entertainment a man or a woman could hope for.
The second time the tiger song was played was a hundred or so years ago, at a dance in Colombo, in what was then known as Ceylon. It was requested by a young man, a poet, who was in love with the daughter of the governer - general. The song was played, the dancing stopped and the young man chased out of the house for daring to woo a European. It was a disgusting situation.
The song was played for a third time at the end of the second world war at a concert in Vienna. That was a beautiful rendition, wavering between true happiness and bleak despair. As the echoes of the last verse made their way out of the hall a woman stood up on the balcony and declared that she did, in fact, exist.
And so I was very proud that it was in my presence, and at my insistence, that this ancient composition was given a fourth airing. My stupid friend John was laughing hysterically as a tiger ripped his left arm away, but when the music began he stopped laughing and made soft little farting noises with his tongue. The tigers immediatelly stopped attacking him, got up on their hind legs and danced a Russian dance. We were all astonished, but Bob Dylan did not stop playing. The only downside about the whole day was us missing the number 22 on the way home and having to take a 48.
I hate the 48 because it is green.
Green, mean.
posted by yumen at
1:45 pm
1 Comments:
This is such a fascinating post. You've got me wanting to hear the tiger song!
I know it's a long time ago now, but thanks for your comment at indeterminacy, and your wishes to my family. All these comments meant a lot to me. I felt less alone during the time. My wife is doing fine now - our lives are back to normal.
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home