The festival grounds in Munich were very well hidden, but we found the tent where the real me was playing, and it was a very good show. Playing Workingman’s Blues #2 and watching the crowd reaction seemed to make him almost as happy as it made us. Then during lemon time, I got to cuddle with the girls. :-) Mainly we were just trying to forget that Liz would be leaving us after the show…. :,(
Walking back to the car from the venue, JF kept looking back at the Olympiahalle, from where she’d run away to Italy with the tour in 2003. We wished that Liz could have run away with us now, but she had to go back home. Renaldo kept asking every day of the tour when Liz would be coming back. He loved going to the shows and everywhere else with her.
For the next two days, we got to stay at a real castle, but it was out in the middle of nowhere and there wasn’t much to do. Just as we were getting ready to leave, we were spotted by a lady who’d never seen any Dylan dolls but liked knitting. We’d like to say hello to her if she’s reading.
Queuing at Zwickau was easy, since there were things to do around the venue. There was a goal on the lawn opposite the entrance to Stadthalle, and some people were playing bad but very enthusiastic football. Guitar man and Brasil girl were singing duets. JF took me record shopping and we got some cheap Neil Young discs. We wanted to do Highlands, but we weren’t allowed to play these records in the car. When we returned from the record store, JF’s friend was gone and people were very excited, telling her she’d cut herself on a broken bottle. She was inside the venue now, getting her hand bandaged. Even though it was quite a cut, she returned to the queue and didn’t have to miss any boring Bob shows. ;-)
Later, we stayed by the buses for a while, but gates and guards kept me from meeting the real me. I wasn’t quite aware that he might have liked to meet me, too! At the end of the main set, after Long & Wasted Years, the real Bob stood right in front of JF and myself, looking at me. During the line-up after the encore, JF held me up so the real Bob could see me better, and he looked right at me and nodded. He clearly realised that I am he and he is me and he is the real Bob and I am the real Jack. We all wished Liz could have been there when Bob met me.
From Zwickau, we went back to JF’s friend’s place near Hamburg, waiting for the real me to return to Germany from Poland. He Rome’d us by playing a very different setlist, and JF and I withdrew to the dark of the garden to calm her disappointment of having missed it again (and her fantasies of smashing phones and bottles).
The next day, JF, Renaldo & I took the train to the city, but there weren’t many photo options since it started raining soon.
I would have gone for a drink while it was pouring down outside, but instead we sheltered in a shop for pretty accessories. JF got some fresh flowers for Renaldo….
…while I recalled my past as Billy Parker. Ah, the memories!
Okay, better go find my hammer now and hang some pictures in the barroom.
Your friend, fuzzy Jack xx