A Lonesome Mournful Sound

"'Only A Pawn In Their Game' is one of Dylan's truly great songs, and what puts it over the top... is its unmatched tone." ~ John Hinchey, Like A Complete Unknown

While driving to Morris to pick up my daughter, now finished with school and coming home before the next chapter of her life begins, I was listening to the soundtrack of Martin Scorcese's Dylan bio No Direction Home. What caught me is that lonesome, mournful quality in his delivery that must have been so out of step with the pop world of its time.

Those early Sixties saw groups like The Four Seasons, The Chiffons, The Crystals and The Safaris putting records to the top of the charts. Smiles and good cheer were the order of the day. In 1963 The Ronettes produced the top hit of the year, Be My Baby, with the Kingsmen's Louie, Louie right on its heels at #2. Against this backdrop Dylan was nowhere, out of step and out of sight.

His roots: the classic folk tradition. His aim: to wear the mantle of Woody Guthrie for a new generation, drawing attention to the outcast, the forgotten, the downtrodden, the misfit, the alienated and disenfranchised. In 1963 Dylan produced an album lyrically rich and socially pointed, The Times They Are A-Changin'. Some might describe it as bleak, but I say otherwise. It's a harsh realism. Dylan's grim countenance is a counterweight to the cheery, oblivious lighthearted distractions of the pop culture within which much of America was bathing.

The images on this page were produced last night based on the somber Dylan that sears the cover of this album.

Only A Pawn In Their Game

A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers' blood
A finger fired the trigger to his name
A handle hid out in the dark
A hand set the spark
Two eyes took the aim
Behind a man's brain
But he can't be blamed
He's only a pawn in their game.

A South politician preaches to the poor white man
"You got more than blacks, don't complain
You're better than them, you been born with white skin" they explain
And the Negro's name
Is used it is plain
For the politician's gain
As he rises to fame
And the poor white remains
On the caboose of the train
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
And the marshals and cops get the same
But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool
He's taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
'Bout the shape that he's in
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks
And the hoof beats pound in his brain
And he's taught how to walk in a pack
Shoot in the back
With his fist in a clinch
To hang and to lynch
To hide 'neath the hood
To kill with no pain
Like a dog on a chain
He ain't got no name
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

The day Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught
They lowered him down as a king
But when the shadowy sun sets on the one
That fired the gun
He'll see by his grave
On the stone that remains
Carved next to his name
His epitaph plain:
Only a pawn in their game.

Recorded June 1963
Copyright Bob Dylan

ENDNOTE: Click on images to enlarge. Bottom image is available as a limited edition giclee reproduction.

Did you poop today?

This picture was taken in a stairwell at a college student’s home off campus in Morris, MN. I took the photo because it is undeniably funny.

I didn’t know what I’d say about it until yesterday when I learned that the recession is having a negative impact on toilet paper sales. In point of fact, Tom Falk the Chairman-CEO of Kimberly-Clark stated that their toilet paper sales were down 5.5% since last quarter. Nationally, the hard times have reduced toilet paper sales by more than 8%.

So, it begs the question… what are people doing in there? I don’t mean to be nosy, but…

In truth, toilet paper is something Americans pretty much take for granted. We like it soft and we like plenty of it, an estimated 1.5 miles of it a year. But have you ever considered that toilet paper is really a fairly modern luxury? Or wondered what they do in the rest of the world? Most of us probably give it very little thought.

I remember a story about a new hospital that was built by the Red Cross in the Middle East, perhaps Jordan or somewhere near Yemen. A week after the hospital was built, all the toilets were inoperable. They were all filled with smooth stones. Dirty ones, if you know what I mean. This is how people clean themselves in many places.

If you are a missionary to or traveler in Islamic countries you might be instructed, as part of your training, to not hand something to Muslim with your left hand because that is the hand you use for this very personal business. Just a little travel tip here in case you’re eating veal in Turkey and someone asks you to pass the pilaf.

When I lived in Mexico, we visited Mexico City and stayed with a couple poor families in that overpopulated village of 20-some million. No one had toilet paper in many of these places. In point of fact, no one has running water in most of Mexico City. The water is in short supply, so they turn it on for 90 minutes every other day. During that ninety minutes you are to fill your 55 gallon drums for the next two days’ supply. Using this water, you can flush toilets, wash dishes, make orange juice, bathe, or whatever your heart desires. I took a bath with about one pint of boiled water in an outdoor stall while it was approximately 40 degrees.

Well, needless to say, no one had toilet paper. Rather, they stacked newspapers in the corner of the outdoor bath room which after reading they used for that more intimate purpose. Mexico City news is printed on surprisingly thin paper and not entirely uncomfortable, if you catch my drift.

While thinking about these things, and looking for an additional anecdote to go with it I discovered that there are a number of books written on the topic for those who might be discreetly interested. Frankly, I find it amusing how little we talk about this delicate topic, or others pertaining to normal body functions such as passing gas or sweating.

Of the books I found, the most interesting dealing with “Number 2” seems to be Dave Praeger’s Poop Culture: How America is Shaped by its Grossest National Product. According to Publisher’s Weekly, Praeger “meticulously excavates the politics of poop, societal attitudes toward it and how both affect our culture and everyday lives. Propelled by a keen nose for trivia, Praeger chronicles everything from the rise in epidemics that led to better sanitation practices, culminating in the widespread adoption of the toilet, to the use of feces in art.” In short, it appears to be a serious, well-researched work of history and not simply cheap potty humor.

But if you really want to dive into this subject and you’re hungry for more, Praeger also has a website called PoopReport.com, though in many circles this kind of thing is in bad taste.

This is a topic about which much more could be written, but I think we've had enough for one sitting.