Bob Dylan was one of my father’s favorite artists.
Sometimes on unusual, beautiful days like today I will run an errand and drive the green bug. So many people have asked me about the origins of the 1971 green bug that has been a sanctuary and a challenge, like so many relationships.
I bought it to be a tradeshow prop for Frond Design Studios in 2015. My Uncle Terry built a platform and I nervously drove it up the the ramp in Houston, for the show. We had rehearsed this so many times in Iowa but I was still apprehensive. I staged the booth in total 70’s decor – so each table, each couch, had a mid century modern experience. It was really comforting to hear stories about VW Bugs – from people back in the day.
That is what I have experienced with the bug. So many people have stories about their experience with one and it is always illuminating and endearing. As they tell me their story I am right there with them. It is a privelege. every. time.
I played Bob Dylan today as I ran to the US Post Office.
Growing up, my father would recite poetry. I have to say, now in this moment writing this…what a privelege it was to see this reluctant yet natural, unabashed thespian, in my mind’s eye, a passionate and devoted human being with a mission to call us all higher.
“Railroad worker, Switchman at the time, bring us home the jewels of poetry.”
He would bark- Carl Sandburg’s Chicago throughout the house!
“Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight
Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of Big Shoulders:”
When I was just a child, one of my most favorite memories is my father wandering through the living room spouting off poems. With this same passion he sang The Show Must Go On from Three Dog Night and of course any song from Bob Dylan. So these days, when I need some peace I think about those poems and songs why they mattered when they were just an idea. Collectively, we are so honored to be the ambassadors of art and these moments.