Bob Dylan's Great Betrayal

Sept. 1 - "being misunderstood"

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Bob Dylan is a quiet man. He doesn’t want trouble, not this late in life. He’s had a long life, he’d given a lot, to many people. His needs are, for a man of his social stature, quite simple. He really only wants the chance to eat his waffles in peace. He had thought that wasn’t asking too much.

“And I love,” says the teen, hopping up and down in front of him, “I love ‘Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues.’ Oh my god. That’s my favorite song.”

Dylan looks down at his waffles, the melting butter, the rivulets of syrup dripping on to the plate. “Yes,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Really!” The teen smiles like daylight. It’s a sexless wisp of a thing, short hair and wide eyes. “Your brevity fails, and negativity won’t get you through? Story of my life! Greatest lyric ever, man. It’s so hopeful, you know? Like, yeah dude. You’re gonna screw up. Brevity! Brevity always fails. But, you know, maybe you do mess up but like, yeah man! Yeah! Negativity won’t get you through!”

“Oh,” says Dylan. “Um.”

“My best friend died,” the teen rattles on. “It was. . .man. I can’t even - it was horrible. Young people don’t belong at funerals, you know? And I was like - dude. I was going crazy, falling to pieces, but that song, that line, oh man. Turned me around, you know? Like, I changed! Cause you’re damn right. Negativity never helped a man.”

The teen sticks its hand out. “Sorry,” says the teen, laughing. “I’m like, you know. Brevity fails! Dude, it is an honor and a pleasure.”

Dylan shakes the teen’s hand. His waffles are now cold, soggy with syrup and forgotten.

“Thank you,” says the teen, vibrating with sincerity. “And your brevity fails, and negativity won’t get you through. Wow.”

“Gravity,” says Dylan.

“What?” says the teen.

“Gravity,” says Dylan again, feeling smaller and more lowdown then he’d ever felt in his life, despite having done nothing wrong. “It’s. . .your gravity fails and negativity won’t get you through.”

The teen looks like it had been kicked. Dylan felt that he might’ve.

“Gravity never fails, man,” says the teen, still and betrayed.

“I like your lyric better,” says Dylan helplessly.