A Complete Gentleman

     When the movie ended and the credits rolled, I stood up from my theater seat to scan all the attendees in the movie theater.  I knew the chance was slim that Tommy was there, but it wouldn't have surprised me if he were.  I thought how it was similar to that time my good friend Doug texted me hours before the Springsteen concert in Albany last year.  I hadn't heard from Doug in years and hadn't seen him in twelve since he moved to upstate New York. But he was going to the show, and he knew the chance of me taking the road trip to see Bruce was pretty good.  He was right.  We met after the concert and talked up old times.  This morning, if Tommy were in the theater, it would make perfect sense.

     The movie was A Complete Unknown, a new biopic about the early years of Bob Dylan's musical career.  Tommy was the only true die-hard Dylan fan that I knew.  And him being in the theater, the first showing the morning after its Christmas day release, was a decent possibility.  Then again, I thought, he probably went to the first showing the day before - not wanting to wait - the birthday of our Lord and Savior notwithstanding.  Or maybe he had gone to a special VIP pre-release premiere.  With his connections to the music world and its artists, that wouldn't be unheard of.  Like Doug, I hadn't seen Tommy in a lot of years, but while watching the movie, he was forefront in my mind. 

     As well as a journalism professor, Tommy was a longtime columnist for our regional newspaper, The Springfield Republican, which later changed its name to The Union News.  During his tenure there, he worked in several departments over three-plus decades, prolifically writing about everything from sports, to politics, to current events.  On all levels: local, national, and global.  His love of sports and music seemed to be his two biggest passions.  His book, Dingers - the 101 Most Memorable Homeruns in Baseball History, is one example of his love for baseball.  He also wrote regular reviews on local and big-name musical artists, critiquing albums as well as concert performances.  His last few years, he took to writing a thrice-weekly column about everyday people of the neighborhood community.  A sort of "ordinary folk/unsung hero" type of feature.  That's how we met.

     Twenty years ago, Tommy interviewed me for a column about me and my childhood best friend, Mark.  We were in competition against each other as high school lacrosse coaches, after spending our high school and post-college league years as teammates.  The column wasn't just about our lacrosse careers, but our personal stories and personalities as well.  Tommy had a skillful ability of conveying a unique and inside look into the people he introduced to his readers.  He felt every person had a good story, and everybody had worth and purpose in this world, regardless of fortune, fame, or talent.  In the column, Mark and I's similarities and differences were noted: coaching styles, playing careers, likes/dislikes, etc.  Tommy asked me about my taste in music.  "Springsteen is a god", was my matter-of-fact, only half-joking response. I laughed and carried on with the interview, thinking my absurd answer was nothing more than discarded nonsense.  However, when the article was printed in the newspaper, there it was: "Johnny thinks Springsteen is a god."  I laughed out loud when I read it.  Tommy obviously didn't think my comment was discarded nonsense, and I learned later it was easy to see why.

     In follow-up conversations and emails, I found out that Tommy was a Bob Dylan fan similar to how I was a Springsteen fan: HUGE.  I told him I knew Bruce considered Dylan his hero, and that I myself was a fan of Dylan. Not a huge fan like him, but more a casual fan. Translation: I mostly knew only of what would be considered his popular and radio-friendly songs.  I had only one Dylan album in my collection - his first compilation album, Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits, released in 1967.  It had ten songs on it, including "Blowin' In The Wind", "Like A Rolling Stone", and "The Times They Are A Changin' ".  These are undeniably great and iconic songs.  But these and about twenty other Dylan songs that I was familiar with, doesn't even scratch the surface of his now 600-plus song catalog.

     I've attempted many times over the decades to expand my listening of Dylan's music.  His undeniable legend status as a songwriter and inspiration to other musicians, makes it mandatory for any music lover.  Like many who have tried however, I could never get beyond what I consider to be his unpleasant sounding voice.  "You'll love his lyrics, his wordplay, his storytelling" is what I've heard from others over the years.  Knowing my musical taste is fairly narrow in scope - visceral and cinematic lyrics being a requirement - comparing Dylan's songwriting to Bruce's, has been the selling point.  The second requirement I have is a singing voice I find appealing.  This is where I hit the wall of indifference.

     Dylan's more spoken-like, softer songs, like "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" and "Buckets of Rain", showcase his unique singing voice, which I find quite appealing.  The typical criticism of Dylan is that his voice is "nasally".  I don't mind that; I actually like it a lot.  I tend to like an unpolished sounding voice.  After all, Bruce's raspy baritone won't ever get him mistaken for the velvety mellifluous voice of Josh Groban, but to my ears he sounds like a chorus of angels.  I like Dylan's voice on a lot of the songs I know.  But I join that list of people who dislike his timbre when he's belting out songs like "Maggie's Farm" and "Idiot Wind".  When he uses his "loud voice" it's grating to my ears.  Hence, I could never break through to consuming and enjoying what the die-hards would consider his best material.

     For example, music critic and Dylan fan, Matt Mitchell recently ranked Dylan's 62 greatest songs of all time. I'm familiar with only six of them, and only three appear on my Greatest Hits album ("Mr. Tambourine Man" #8, "Like A Rolling Stone" #22, "Positively 4th Street" #41).  Now make no mistake, I'm that guy who rolls his eyes in snobbery when someone tells me that they are a Springsteen fan and then tells me their favorite songs are "Born To Run" and "Born In The USA".  Great songs, of course, but no real fan familiar with Bruce's 380-song catalog, would consider these as favorites.  Under those same parameters, no real Dylan fan would consider me for membership in their fan club.

     I can unquestionably appreciate the profound cultural and musical impact Dylan has had spanning seven decades.  If nothing else, I understand that if he's Bruce's hero, then he deserves hero status.  And if someone is a Dylan fan, it's fairly certain he and I have shared tastes and values.  From what I recall, Tommy has seen Dylan in concert dozens if not a hundred times over the years.  I remember him telling me that seeing him in concert was always a hit or miss.  Sometimes he was energetic and masterful in his performance.  Sometimes he sounded weak and disengaged, which made him difficult to watch and listen to.  I found that out firsthand the one and only time I saw him on stage.

     It was October 4, 2003, and my concert partner Cindy and I were watching our beloved Bruce & E Street play at Shea Stadium. During the first of three encores in a "heart-stopping, earth-quaking, booty-shaking" 30-song marathon performance, Bruce brought out his surprise guest: "We have my great friend and inspiration with us tonight, Mr. Bob Dylan..." With The E Street Band backing him up, Bob sang Highway 61 Revisited. - badly.  Or that was my take, anyway. Right from the start, it was difficult hearing Bob's voice.  I remember thinking to myself that he needed to get closer to the microphone.  He eventually did, but that didn't make his vocals much better.  He slurred through the song with minimal enunciation.  I think he may have even repeated or skipped some lyrics when he shouldn't have.  Outside of "Highway sixty-one", I couldn't understand any other words. It seemed the band even had trouble following his lead.  He appeared uncomfortable and out of place on stage, not like what you would expect from a legendary musician and performer.  Cindy and I were left uncomfortably speechless.  I think about Tommy's "hit or miss" comment whenever I revisit that memory.  This was definitely a performance I wish I missed.

Bob Dylan joins Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band (10/4/03)

     Tommy and I remained in touch a little bit via email after his article about Mark and me.  I'd see him occasionally at music venues and outdoor concerts, enjoying local musical acts.  He'd go to the shows as a music critic and reviewer, yes, but mostly as a fan of musicians showcasing their talents.  The Iron Horse in Northampton was where I'd see him most often, almost every time I went there. He was a regular, with a wide range of musical tastes and appreciation for the many different musicians the club booked. I was more an artist-specific attendee: Frank Manzi, Stephen Kellogg, John Eddie.

     In 2016, I went to The Iron Horse to see James Maddock, a favorite musician of mine from New York City via Leicester, England. James was the opening act to his good friend and music legend in his own right, Willie Nile.  I had met James a few years earlier, and we chatted at the bar prior to his set.  He introduced me to Willie, a seemingly wonderful man with an exuberant and engaging personality.  He thanked me for coming out to the show, while glowingly showering James with well-deserved compliments as a singer, songwriter, and great guy. As I headed to my seat, I see Tommy just a few tables away. I say hello to him and his wife, Suzanne, and we play 5-minute catch-up.  I found out that not only was Tommy a huge fan of Nile's, but a good friend of his as well.  They had been for a lot of years.  After my first impression of Willie's affability, it wasn't hard at all to see how they'd be friends.  Gentlemen with a genuine interest in other people's story and welfare tend to share company. 

     I tell Tommy that it's actually James Maddock I'm here to see, not so much Willie Nile.  I'm not sure he was real familiar with James' music at that time, and I knew almost nothing of Willie's.  Nile and Maddock both regard Dylan as a guru and inspiration.  And both performed for the crowd that night as if performing for each patron individually, a songwriter's gift intrinsic in Dylan's music.  If any more proof of Dylan's influence and appreciation from the two is needed, Nile released a tribute album the following year, Positively Bob: Willie Nile Sings Bob Dylan, with Maddock backing him on guitar and vocals.  And both Nile and Maddock have performed onstage with Springsteen multiple times over the years for the Light Of Day Foundation concerts for Parkinson's Disease research.  The Dylan Effect is both wide and exclusive.  After the show, Tommy and I reconnected and told each other how we instantly became fans of the other guy we didn't know much about.

     The performances of the three main actors in A Complete Unknown were simply flawless.  At least in the opinion of this armchair critic.  Timothee Chalamet and Monica Barbaro gave magnificent portrayals of Dylan and Joan Baez, according to many actual movie and music critic experts. That the actors also played and sung live instead of using pre-recorded vocals or instruments, is nothing short of extraordinary.  Add Edward Norton's own authentic singing and banjo playing as Pete Seeger, and the movie is a trifecta of masterful casting with a meticulous dedication to the music.

Chalamet & Barbaro sing Blowin' In The Wind

     I wanted to know more about what I had just seen on screen.  I had tons of questions.  How much of it was accurate? How authentic were the characters portrayed?  Whatever happened to the romantic and musical relationship between Dylan and Baez?  Did the fractured relationship between Pete Seeger and Dylan ever mend? How good was Chalamet's guitar playing?  The scene in the hospital of Dylan playing "A Song For Woody" to the actual Woody Guthrie - did this actually happen?  Tommy would know all these answers.  If he were at the same showing as I, maybe the two of us could have gone out for an afternoon, post-Christmas cocktail and discuss these things and more.  Maybe he'd give me his list of favorite Dylan songs now that I wanted to revisit his music.  But unlike the good fortune I had seeing Doug at that Springsteen concert in Albany, seeing Tommy in the theater this day wasn't to be.

     Lying on my couch later that night, I Google-tapped Tommy's name on my phone while I watched actual footage on YouTube TV of Dylan's performances at the Newport Folk Festival which was depicted in the film.  There wasn't anything current about him that I could find.  My guess is he's enjoying a well-deserved lifestyle of retirement.  And still listening to, loving, and discovering both old and new music. Tommy and I certainly were never close friends; we were acquaintances at best.  But without a doubt, he will come to mind when I play a Bob Dylan song or peruse old Dylan videos.  If I discover a hidden gem I've never heard before, I'll wonder if it's on Tommy's list of favorites.  No matter that I haven't seen or heard from him in years, that association will forever be there.  That, and what a gentleman he was, and is. That's a pretty good story in itself.  

     

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May 10, 2005