My Back Pages

The growing sense of a life lived upside-down, escaping the gravity and dense mass of my own history to become lighter...do others experience this?

And at what point do we declare, though it is not an end, that we have our wish, the happy ending we tried for so long to cobble together - through writing, wishing, tap dancing, perfect phrases, praying, beseeching and other even more destructive and less attractive efforts.  What are the elements of a very personal happy ending:  I'm still here.  I am able to spend my time doing things which have meaning for me and make me content.  I gradually become better (by my definition) at what I do.  I have family and friends whom I love and who love me back and we speak the same language.  I am in the company of people who all keep rowing pretty much in the same direction.  The universe continues to send messages of encouragement, saying press on, its love notes, surprises and serendipity like clues on a treasure hunt.

The Byrds' unique sound carries me, pleasantly, away.



Lyrics for MY BACK PAGES by Bob Dylan

Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin’ high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
“We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I
Proud ’neath heated brow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
“Rip down all hate,” I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull. I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Girls’ faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

A self-ordained professor’s tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school
“Equality,” I spoke the word
As if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not that I’d become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My pathway led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now
Copyright © 1964 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1992 by Special Rider Music