you know what?

i was just listening to bob dylan's song "million dollar bash". it's originally from a 1975 record called The Basement Tapes but I know it from disc 2 of a retrospective called Biograph that an old sublessee left in my apartment when she moved out. nice girl, maybe she was french. suspected eating disorder. caroline or theresa or melanie. anyway there's a lyric in the song where mr. dylan sings "well i looked at my watch, i looked at my wrist, punched myself in the face with my fist."

now i've always admired bob, not only for his songwriting and iconclasm and sacks full of cash, but also because he looks, in his old age, a great deal like my dead grandmother. and like any reasonable person, i try to emulate people i admire: bill clinton, pedro martinez, this guy i saw on the subway with a fearless haircut, to name a few more. but the thing is-- christ-- what the hell are you supposed to do if you want to be more like bob dylan and you don't own a watch? i won't bore you with the details, but i eventually settled on punching myself in the face with my fist.

it wasn't great.