巴布•狄倫

Bob Dylan: A minstrel’s reward for toil and blood

A hard rain was falling on a summer’s day in 2009 when the call came into the police in the New Jersey shore community of Long Branch. A dishevelled old man had been spotted walking around in the storm and staring into the windows of a vacant house with a “for sale” on it.

A 24-year-old officer was sent to investigate and found a strangely saturated senior citizen at the scene. Dressed in a hooded raincoat and black sweat pants stuffed into his boots, he carried no identification and told a tale that seemed to be on the tall side.

“I asked him what his name was and he said, ‘Bob Dylan’,” said the officer, Kristie Buble. “Now, I’ve seen pictures of Bob Dylan from a long time ago and he didn’t look like Bob Dylan to me at all . . . I wasn’t sure if he came from one of our hospitals or something.”

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