Sunday Night With John: Bob Dylan Was Right

I was driving back with Anne, my wife to her hometown last weekend, as a family friend had recently passed away. We were listening to NPR and chatting about the obvious topic, death, and more importantly, life.  In a break in the conversation, we listened intently to an NPR story about Bob Dylan and the difficulty he had pulling the right sound out of his voice and the instruments for his famous song, “Like a Rolling Stone.”  After a few takes he decided to switch from3/4 time to 4/4 time and during the fourth take, Dylan loved the sound coming the organ so much, he asked it to be turned up. I’m glad he did because now the improvised Organ riff by Al Kooper has been woven into the history of music. One of the musicians spoke about remembering Dylan during the difficult session commenting, “It’s doesn’t have to be perfect, it has to be right.” I made a comment to Anne, my wife that is a beautiful thought when chasing anything in the creative world. 

Earlier in the week Anne was asked to sing at the funeral with her brother. They both have great voices and sing together often, but the only problem is they live roughly 10 hours apart and weren’t going to get to practice together until the night before the event. They quickly began practicing when we arrived at Anne’s parents house and they quickly found themselves struggling to make it work, much like Bob Dylan all those years ago. The buckled down and continued to practice into the night and again the next morning. They both commented about how important it was to get the song perfect. You could easily see how focused they were to make the family proud.

After practicing that night and the next day, they shaped, tuned, and molded their voices together. The two emotional songs they were asked to sing came together and they rehearsed one last time before it was time to leave for the church. Tears came to their parents and my eyes as we heard their voices and guitar playing find the right place. They practiced not in the search of perfection but in the search of respect, love and care.  Playing and singing a song that expressed the love the family had for the man they had lost, and seeing the care Anne and her brother put into rehearsing separately over the last week and together the last two days was something of beauty and love. 

When it came time for Anne and her brother to perform for the grieving family, the church was over flowing and tears were in many people’s eyes.  As they stood in front of the church next to each other and began to sing in harmony, it was sharp, it was crisp, and it was beautiful. I didn’t know the man we were saying goodbye to but the way Anne and her brother performed the songs it sure made me wish I did.

Bob Dylan was right, things don’t have to be perfect; they just have to be right. There was nothing more right than the sound of the guitar strumming and two siblings singing as it landed on grieving hearts to ease the pain just a little. 

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