You get the face you deserve after fifty!
It boggles the mind to read those news reports filtering in about an "out-house" on the property of celebrated "poet" Bob Dylan that is causing quite a stink in Malibu!
According to the folk hero's disgruntled neighbors in Point Dume, a prevailing sea breeze off the coast carries a foul-smelling odor from a port-a-pottie on Dylan's sprawling estate straight into the comfy confines of residents' swank homes.
In spite of the fact complaints have been lodged with the musician (which were duly turned over to his legal counsel, in New York, of all places) and he has been duly informed that neighbors have become faint and sick to their stomachs over the noxious fumes incessantly wafting their way, the man known for his songs about truth and justice has looked the other way.
The offending sh** house is apparently used by Dylan's employees when they have to drop a load.
City inspectors charged with the task of investigating the complaints were turned away by security at the "otherwise" upscale compound and duly informed on that occasion that the aging once-feisty musical upstart planned to sue the city.
I shook my head in disbelief when I learned that the offending structure was originally cited by the City for code violations when it was first erected.
Allegedly, Dylan ignored a requirement that the free-standing "john" be accessible to the handicapped.
The maverick's response?
In a deceitful pig-headed attempt to bypass that regulation, Dylan actually penned a note to City officials in which he had the audacity to promise that he would avoid that little oversight in the building code by "never hiring any handicapped persons" in the future.
What a twisted piece of work!
The stuff he's been smoking over the years has obviously turned his brain into mush!
Imagine that, a folk singer who wailed about Civil Rights during the sixties and built his name and reputation (and great fortune, I might add) on truth, justice, and the American Way, can't fathom the obvious.
He's not only infringing on the rights of others, but using his clout and big bucks, to raise himself to a lofty perch where he surmises he doesn't have to abide by the law of the land or even acknowledge his social responsibility to others.
Bottom line, Bob Dylan is a hypocrite and a phony!
I say, burn the dude's lyrics and his CD's; after all, the ideals expressed in 'em are nothing but pure fantasy at this juncture.
Or, at a minimum, let's at least rewrite a handful of his popular musings.
Here, I've taken a shot at it!
How many times must a neighbor stride down Dylan's drive
Before he'll lend 'em an ear?
And, how many protests must the outraged hold on his lawn
Before he perceives there's a cause?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' o'er an ignorant poet's head
The answer is blowin' in the Malibu wind!
Amen!
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