happy birthday bob

i could have tried to think up an amusing title for this but hey…

the zim is 70 tomorrow.

70.

lordy!

i was working out with some friends and fellow lovers of his oeuvre (nothing to do with eggs) what he might want as a present. i thought a nice chinese suit, a few bottles of bread, one more cup of coffee – all the usual – and they made many cleverer and more abstruse references.

then it hit me… it was simple and somehow obvious…

i think he’d just like a woman.

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7 responses to “happy birthday bob

  1. is he alone now? i’ve added you to my blogroll, sugar, so i don’t miss anything! xox

  2. he certainly would not feel so all alone…

    i’m honoured to have made it to your blogroll! will have to click over and feel the thrill of seeing my bijou blogette on yours.

  3. I’d like one too. Do you knwo where they are to be found?

  4. Or know even – always edit 😀

  5. he’s got everything he needs, he’s a rabbit he don’t look back…

  6. Dear Mate,

    I lived in New Zealand as a child. Does the word still have an undiluted positive connotation? I miss my mates.

    Can we be mates? I love that word. It’s even better than Professor.

    I wrote the following back in June, thinking to post it here but not sure of my place or how much you really loved his oeuvre. I can’t even pronounce that and had to look up the spelling. And I know I’m easily blindsided by irony and sarcasm. Perhaps you were declaring the opposite and anyone in your context would know it. Zim, Google informs me, is a cartoon character who causes chaos and destruction.

    After your recent lovely comment, I feel invited to place these words in this proper place. If I’ve missed this particular boat (aren’t metaphors wonderful?) I see no blood on the floor, no harm and no foul.

    ~~~

    My thoughts are, “Hey, happy birthday, Bob.” A four year old boy once said (while defining “love”), “When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.” I hope you heard that difference. I wish the best for you.

    I’m pretty much sixty (the clock stops there even when I’m eighty) and the wind in my face smells of lilacs.

    Walking and biking through the woods with Bodi, the border collie who hangs with me when she isn’t chasing butterflies or falling leaves or birds in flight, hasn’t solved the world’s problems as I had planned.

    I thought the current American President would be a lot more liberal, progressive, leftist. I must now acknowledge America is company-owned. I don’t see how that can turn out well since corporate law puts profits over people (do read that again — law itself places profits over people) and non-disclosure agreements ensure transgressions rarely find their way to court. I live in a country where it’s now cheaper to pay a fine for rampant destruction (when it’s rarely noted) than to actually stop destroying.

    There was a boat house here and I lingered in the smells of old wood and the sounds of water lapping against drawn hulls. There were boxes upon boxes of stored books and cases of wines and a ten inch refractor lovingly maintained that could put Andromeda in your lap. I remember sitting in the breeze after oiling one of the boats and reading Virgil translated into English with a cold flask of Harp Lager in my hand.

    A favorite was Dante. I wanted to hear the original Italian. I wanted to hear the poetry falling on me like the light in the morning with Bodi. We would turn a corner on a path in the woods and it was falling like fingers of gold through the softly moving mist.

    I’m not sure Bodi would actually see it. I know she would smell it. And the tens of thousands of fragrances that would accompany it.

    ~~~

    I know as a Yank I can’t use the language properly (however much I love it and all the weirdly beautiful words within it), but is it okay if I respond here occasionally? I really miss the boathouse and the sounds of water against a hull and the smells of oil on loved wood.

    I miss the breeze of lilacs near the maples at the edge of the garden by the boathouse. I think there was a butterfly bush, too, where hummingbirds would linger in the morning and at dusk and those of us who cared for such flourishes would gather quietly and admire beauty sprung undeserved from the Earth.

    I miss the sprawling gardens and the ferns in the braking shade under the various decks. What a well-designed home.

    Yes, of course I miss the fridge under the deck full of good beer. You know that stuff built the pyramids? Yeah, it did. I learned recently the daily ration for every worker was the equivalent of five a day. Those pyramids make a lot more sense now. Talk about an infrastructure project. But what else are you going to do when it only takes three percent of your population to grow all the food you need? (Alright, I made up the percent but you get the point. There’s always a lot that needs to be done, even if it’s just reading books to children. If I was a rich country, I’d pay a few million people to do that. Just saying.)

    I miss your cheer, your laughter, your hopes, your loves, and your dreams.

    I’m likely overstepping. Even that is a cool word (do we even make cobble stones any more). But let me know.

  7. e – my love for bob and his work is entirely genuine. ‘the zim’ is what i and a fellow dylan-lover call him; i think quite a few dylan fans do. he even said in ‘gotta serve somebody’:

    You may call me Terry, you may call me Timmy
    You may call me Bobby, you may call me Zimmy

    never heard of the cartoon zim (as usual i am better-informed for your comments) but doesn’t sound a million miles away from one aspect of bob.

    and overstepping? no way! comment all you like – your comments are amazing.so glad you mentioned the boathouse. i think about it a lot; in fact, today i was at the place that inspired it. the boathouse there has been knocked down actually, but ours remains and i’m very grateful you are clearly keeping the place in such good nick, because i have been neglecting it of late. i should nip down there for a cool beer later…

    your comment is awesome (as so often). i will need to read it many times without thinking too much about it. then i can truly understand it. this is a place for us – and you will always be part of ‘us’.

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