Dylan

"At some point you gotta sit down with your dad over coffee or lunch and just look him right in the eye and say:
-Okay, is there any way I can avoid becoming you? Cause it's happening and I want out. Can you help me? Did you keep a diary? Any advice?...fuckin help me, for once, HELP ME YOU FUCK.

And if you've ever had this conversation with your dad that is the moment where they'll look you right in the eye and laugh. Cause on some level the father son relationship, though subliminal, is a battle to the death. And on some level when you're fucked up just like them they are as proud of you as if you won a fucking medal or something.

-Your dad: "Are you pathologically narcissistic and fuck up your firt marriage? Hahahahaha You're just like your old man, welcome to the club. Fuck you."
-MARK MARON




I guess this is one of those posts that really only makes sense to me "on a subliminal" level. Maybe I'm going soft as my college days are winding down or maybe I'm just another rung down on slow descent into becoming my father, but the above picture of Bob Dylan is just one of a few posters I have right above my bed in my dorm. Dylan, I should mention, is my dad's religiously favorite musician. In the past few years I've been listening to a lot of Dylan and although his music is clearly not my preference I feel compelled to it because of the stories he tells and what it has meant to a lot of other people, specifically my old man. Others include: Green Day, Cobain, Dropkick Murphy's, Beatles, and Less Than Jake. Basically me and my musical tastes in a nutshell. Dylan's, though, is the only face directly above my bed which should make for some interesting, possibly inspirational mornings.