Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature today. I squealed like a schoolgirl at a Beatles concert. Or I should say, a Bob Dylan concert. I love Bob Dylan. I first saw him at 18 with my dad & he hit lit something on fire in me—with that nasal voice, those brilliant lyrics, that effortless scathing genius. I took him into my subconscious & into the wilderness. I wrote college papers comparing his writing to Walt Whitman’s. I memorized the battle-rap-like lyrics of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” on a long daily commute from the cow-dung hell of Caldwell to the corporate hell of DirecTV.  I soundtracked my last break-up with Blood on the Tracks & Blonde on Blonde. Thanks & cheers to you, Bob Dylan, the true love of mine. Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one? I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’ I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest Where the people are many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison …

Fill this in like a mad libs. Last gasp of: ____. Fall colors. Summer blossom dresses. Our democracy? Alice Polynesian Fashions orange & pink blossom print cotton dress – $7-$15, I can’t remember if this is from a yard sale or thrift store | Chia orange leather Victorian bomber jacket – $7.99 Serendipity Boutique vintage 1980s? Made in Korea | Frye ‘Sacha Moto’ black leather shootie – $100 (MSRP: $278), Bombshell Salon‘s Head to Boots Fall Make-Up Event Cheep, cheep.