Sunday, August 16, 2009

Dylan on a Sunday

You've probably read the story somewhere on the web. Dylan was stopped by two young-ish cops for looking suspicious in a NJ neighborhood. He was out wandering the neighborhood, looking at houses, before a concert. He had no identification and the cops didn't recognize him. They escorted him back to the hotel where he was vouched for. Crisis averted.

I love this story for a few reasons. First, I love the idea of Dylan just wandering a neighborhood looking at houses before a concert. What else are you going to do? Second, Dylan had to love this. He was unrecognized. He was free, normal, treated like everyone else. Finally, I love that the cops said that Dylan couldn't have been nicer about it. Most celebs would have thrown a fit.

The whole celebrity thing has to be crazy. My parents live in Malibu and I see celebs there all the time. I leave them alone because it has to be tiring to have people gawk at you or approach you in coffee shops.

I am hardly a celebrity, but I did have a very public job for a few years. It was a very weird feeling for people to greet me in stores or the health club locker room (where people are sometimes naked and some still not reticent to introduce themselves) and I had no idea who they were. With someone like Dylan that has to be magnified a billion times.

I have three John Updike quotes taped to a print that hangs above my desk. Two of them apply here. (The third is "In the moment of starting, everything is more fascinating than writing"). The first says, "Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face." The second, and my favorite, is "One can either see or be seen." Dylan has to be used to his life as a being seen. What a great thing not to be recognized.

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