Word up Vets. Thank you Len Withrow. Thanks Bob Shumway. Thanks Manny Barber. Thank you young man/woman.  Thanks all.
It’s/you’re not lost on me.

I take my lines seriously, but realize how short they fall here.

Do you have anything like Alaska or Bob Dylan in your life?  I do admire them, could say I’ve even loved them, yet never have seen either live.  Not sure I want to anymore and it’s getting intentional at this point.  There are streams + sounds + thoughts of my own I like right where they are.  When it comes to tundra and folk heroes I don’t want my images karate chopped or even nudged.

Years ago I wanted to visit Alaska and thought I naturally would some day. I’ve crossed paths with a number who spent life in parts known and unknown up there.  Opportunities to go have been but I still never have. Though,   I feel Alaska in me,   Denali or Dillingham residue left somehow from past conversations or dreams.    Plus, I really really liked the Eddy Vedder songs from Into the Wild.

As for Dylan, we have a long and checkered past.   He’ll always be part of the story.  I don’t listen to his musings that often anymore, but a picture still hangs on the wall.

I find myself wanting to avoid Anchorage altogether , and it seems I’m always booked when Dylan plays the NW.     It’s twisted I know.  I fully get those two don’t need me to be there, don’t care about my neatly constructed expectations, don’t even know my name.
I’ll say it though with respect intact—> I’m sure they are nice enough in person,   but Alaska & Dylan are magic between my ears.

In an unlocked millennium time capsule I found a dusty note from/to myself saying Bob Dylan was the best writer of our era.  Whether I still believe in that doesn’t matter, like I said Bob’s fine without my award.   I’d buy another Dylan album and will probably cry when he passes. I’d also likely put my head down and duck into the alley if I saw him coming at me down the street.

During a lively match of I-SPY, my daughter got the best of me.

–  school bus
green grass
–  wood fence
stoplight
– corner store
sky
– blue crane thing
white house
– pink jacket girl
bendy sign
– motor-biker
pile of pumpkins
– old man
red helmet

….Tayen abruptly stopped the banter to remind me she already spied this particular biker and the red helmet was off limits.  I argued that the head protection was a new thing entirely.  Nowhere near convinced, she questioned if he could ride without the helmet.  I said the rider should of course wear it but could technically (though not legally in WA) ride without it making the red helmet a separate entity apart from the biker himself thus open to future spy call outs.  She countered that she already called “the whole thing.”   Upon further review of this point and the true spirit of I-SPY, I had to agree and issued a concession.   Remarkable/troubling.

“OK, let’s sing a song about this:

     We spy everything,
     We spy something, 
     We spy no thing, 
 
     We spy whatever we want,
     We spy whatever we do,
     We spy you.” 

-Wesley Withrow (lyrics and arguments by Tayen Withrow)