She Worshipped Bob Dylan

She Worshipped Bob Dylan

By Frederick J. Blahnik

 

 

She worshipped Bob Dylan.

What more can I say? 

She loved me, on some occasions probably even a lot, but she worshipped Bob Dylan.

She absolutely revered him, adored him, venerated him, worshipped the very ground the Rock and Roll demigod trod upon.

So is it any surprise then that our marriage didn’t last very long?

The biggest surprise of all may be that the sham lasted as long as it did.  Five years of marriage may not sound like a lot to geriatric dinosaurs who have been conjoined at the emotional hip for forty and fifty and even sixty years, but for every single day of those five years I had to put up with her Bob Dylan idolatry.  Every single fuckin’ day, I swear to you, and I ain’t exaggerating one bit here either!!!  I know it probably sounds like I’m making myself out to be some sort of martyr as I write this but, to be perfectly honest, that is a spot-on description of Yours Truly’s situation throughout those five soul-wrenching years which seemed uncannily closer to fifty.

Five whole years, and nothing ever changed from Day One.

Not a thing, I tell you…..

She worshipped Bob Dylan.

She thought he was the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

She would gladly have kissed his ass if he had dropped his drawers and bent over in front of her.

She thought he was a deity.

She would have cut out her own heart with a dull butcher knife and offered it up as a sacrifice to the guy had he so requested.

And when I pointed out to her that she shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t hold another human being in such hallowed esteem, that it wasn’t normal or healthy—that Bob Dylan was a mere mortal, constructed of flesh and blood like everyone else, inflected with faults and foibles just like every other creature condemned to an arbitrary beginning and an arbitrary ending, eternally damned with the exact same clutch of oftentimes disloyal emotions as Joe and Jane Schmoe—she just rolled her eyes, shrugged her shoulders, and pronounced her undying fealty to the curly-haired  music legend all over again.

Long story short, I thought I could change her following our wedding, but she refused to be changed.

Just stubborn as hell—ridiculously stubborn, irrationally stubborn; she utterly refused to change!

She worshipped Bob Dylan, worshipped the very ground he trod upon.

In light of that, is it any wonder our so-called marriage only lasted five years?

I tell ya, the fact it lasted even that long is a huge wonder bordering on a miracle and a testament to my undying tolerance and patience.

Here I must finally bare my soul and confess outright:  I screwed up big-time.  I should have pulled the plug months, if not years, earlier on our unworkable marriage.

In the face of impeccable reason and my fervent desire and loads of persuasive cajoling, she refused to ever change or even consider changing…..