After a much needed sleep, I took a four hour train ride into Edinburgh,
passing small towns, sheep farms, and misty mountains. I could have stared
out the window all day. Part of me expected that England and Scotland
would really be "Just like here, only it's there," but there was
hardly a moment that I couldn't tell I was in another country.  I had a
pleasant day and a half of just wandering Edinburgh, which (being a
cemetery tour guide by trade) everyone has always told me I would love.
It's the kind of town that names strip clubs after old time murderers
and grave robbers, which i have to admit makes it seem like my kind of
town. It must always seem like autumn here. The few hours when the sun was
shining, it seemed out of place. This is a town that should always be
overcast. 

In one of the churchyards I found a gravestone with a variation on the
quote Dylan said in 1997 he was repeating to himself, but unable to place,
when he was working on Time Out of Mind: "Work while the day lasts, for
the night of death cometh when no man can work." The wording was a bit
different, but the sentiment the same. It's on the grave of John Stuart
Hepburn Forbes, a baronet who died in 1866 and is remembered mainly for
being a baronet. Being an American I'm not sure what sort of work you do
while the day lasts as a baronet, and looking it up now is only puzzling
me further, but it seems like a pretty easy gig. 

That first evening, as there was no show, I met up with Ian Gallon,
Viktor, and Angus at a pub called The Joker and The Thief for some very
peaty scotch. The next night more of us gathered at a pub called
Shakespeare, across from the venue. Great to run into Nancy and Susan from
the states! And Federica from Italy, who I hadn't seen in about twenty
years, but who hasn't changed a bit; she still looks and talks exactly
the same as she did all those nights outside the Auditorium in Chicago. 

But for all the fun, it was hard for me to avoid the anxiety of it being
Election Day back in the states. Most of the signs were encouraging going
in, but who knew? We've said that before. Again and again. And,
meanwhile, the tickets I bought on viagogo for night 2 were appearing to
be a mirage, though they said they wouldn't confirm it and replace the
tickets until late the next day, so that was another thing to be stressed
about. 

All in all, I was eating and drinking a LOT, just trying to keep my nerves
in check, but switched to shots that would keep me from having to pee
during the show. This has to be a sign that I'm getting old. 

But the show successfully took my mind off the anxiety, for the most part,
(with the help, I admit, of the Yondr pouch). I'd met up with with
Nathan, who had my ticket, and took a seat in Usher Hall next to him and
his gran, Maryanne, who told me she'd been a big fan ever since she
heard Dylan's version of "House of the Rising Sun" on a jukebox
about sixty years ago. She'd never managed to see him live until Nathan
took her two years ago, and she was thrilled to be seeing him again.

Sitting next to Maryann was an absolute delight. She loved the show, and
reacted to Dylan's various vocal tricks and twists in a way you often
just see from those of us who see enough shows to get excited about subtle
nuances. I would see a show with her any time! 

And the show! Dylan opened on the bench, playing guitar with his back to
the crowd, facing the band - a setup he'd repeat for the opening of
"It Ain't Me, Babe." It was nice to be able to SEE that he was on
guitar this time, and turning his back on the audience to play was just
one more way that seeing Dylan is like seeing Miles Davis, a favorite
comparison of mine. 

After a strong opening four songs, something clicked at "When I Paint My
Masterpiece," with Dylan finding a rhythm cadence for the vocals early
on and sticking with it. From there the show hit another level. "My Own
Version of You" still saw him trying to find a rhythm and not quite
landing on one (and saying "bones" instead of "brains,"),  but
"Rubicon" had particularly strong vocals, "Desolation Row"
thundered along with great piano, and the new, stripped down (but sung
with great force) "Key West" was amazing. You might not have QUITE
been able to hear a pin drop, but it was at least quiet enough that I
could hear a door open on the far side of the theater. 

After it he said something I couldn't quite make out, leaving me with
that age old problem of spending the rest of the show wondering what the
heck he said (It turned out to be something like "Great to be back here
in Edinburgh. Some people say it's the center of the world.")   

On "I've Made Up My Mind," Keltner was doing some interesting things
building a rhythm out of seemingly random light hits of the cymbal and
drums, calling to mind a Matt Chamberlain part to me (and possibly earning
him the intro he got at the end). As often happens at shows, I suddenly
noticed something in the lyrics: right after "take me out traveling
you're a traveling man" comes "i'll go far away with her." Does
he mean "take US out traveling?" Is this a "Tangled Up in Blue"
thing of mixing up pronouns? Finding new ways to engage with the text is a
great advantage of seeing the songs performed live, even when you see them
again and again. 

"Mother of Muses" had vocals that, like "Key West" tonight, seemed
insistent - not sung so much as declaimed. 

And, of course, "Every Grain of Sand" is a highlight every night. 

After the show I fielded texts that voter turnout was high, and signs were
encouraging. Met up with the group from the night before, plus Matt,
Tully, Nightly Moth, and Madeline, at the bar, and had several drinks as I
checked the news.  I reminisced about how much fun it had been to set up
the "Dylan Fans for Harris" show and explained the nuances of the
electoral system at the bar - my "I voted" sticker and Harris button
attracted a lot of attenstion and drink offers from bar patrons.  At one
point several of us walked about 5000 steps, through alleys and alongside
churchyards, castles, and the place where they used to hang people, before
ending up an arcade bar on the same block where we started, where we blew
through a bucket of tokens on a four-player game on the old Simpsons
Arcade game. It was honestly one of the best nights of my life. 

Then i went home and started watching the election news come in...

I had not purchased enough alcohol. 

To be continued...