SUNDAY BREAKFAST

“As we kissed in the wild blazing night time, I remember her whispering yes.” I happened across an unexpected Bob Dylan live clip from 1966 of the song "I Don’t Believe You (She Just Acts Like We Never Had Met)" and, aside from posting a link and hoping that it stays up long enough for everyone to watch it who wants to, it took me back, way down the trail of time, back to all those Sunday mornings after all those Saturday nights when one woke in a haze of pain to an almost unknown morning companion who was often wondering the same as you were, and the width of the destroyed bed became a gulf of perception, a misapprehension on some lost highway of lust and romance, a hungover void of comprehension without coffee, comprehension, and certainly not a bloody Mary. Or maybe not. Maybe the lady had a sense of humor. Maybe she had a pint of scotch in her bag. And of course, one time – or maybe more than once – you would encounter the love of your life, but like the saying goes, “You have to be kissed by a lot of frogs before you turn into a prince.”

Click here for rare Japanese-hosted Bob. Quick, before Sony takes it down.

The secret word is Comedown