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Published: July 12th 2011
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When I was a senior in high school I wrote a short story entitled “Freedom Drive 99”. It was about a group of high school students from across the country who steal their parents cars, meet in Chicago and drive to LA on Route 66. They eventually abandon the deserted highway for I-44 and then one of them crashes in New Mexico and their parents eventually track them down and they all go back home never reaching their final destination. But like most great stories the ending is seldom as gratifying as the development that takes place trying to get there.
At 18 my dream was to take off and drive to Southern California with no plan, no money, no worries. I really thought it would happen too. That was until I fell in love with Nashville and decided it would be home no mater where else I may go. However, I still would daydream of just driving with no real sense of direction. There’s something about the freedom of the open road that captivates my imagination. The endless possibilities of people you meet and places you’ll see a new life is awaiting in every direction. My favorite books are about this very topic. But if you are running you should be running towards something and not away from anything. And every time I got in my car I just kept thinking, there’s nothing that I’m searching for, I have everything I need.
Most of you reading this probably know my favorite artist is Bob Dylan. It really is impossible to explain why people like the things they do. When I discovered Dylan there was already a giant culture of idolatry around him. Claiming he was the father of modern music, countless followers had already put him on a pedestal higher than anyone could reach. So I knew that my obsession was somewhat justified. And by being a Dylan fan I was immediately accepted into a community that few dared protest.
But Dylan was the first songwriter that I remember who wrote about abstract truth. Most songwriters are very straightforward and almost belittle their audience. When I started listening to Dylan I realized that he was talking in dual meanings, and I was like, is he saying what I think he’s saying? It was a beautifully rich garden that was just awaiting to be cultivated with familiar fruit you had to eat it in a new way.
To me listening to a Dylan song was much like listening to a sermon about your favorite bible verse. You can’t take it at face value, if you do you won’t understand and it will sound like gibberish. You have to tie in all these other references and take notes and read books and see art shows before any of it makes sense.
For example: My favorite Dylan song is “Like a Rolling stone” (it’s an easy argument that this is the best song ever written which is one reason I choose it as my favorite). But anyway the song is really an anti-love song that came out when all the pop songs where about puppy school day love (pretty bold move right there). While Dylan hasn’t made official statements its widely believed that the character in the song is about a real life girl, Edie Sedgwick (Miss Lonely) that Dylan was pursuing, but she ran off with Andy Warhol (chrome horse and your diplomat) in the mid 60s to chase celebrity. While it sounds like modern day Jersey Shore, this is also a metaphor of what was going on with American society. It seemed like everyone was chasing celebrity and abandoning true art and hard work. Its really no different than today and maybe Dylan was just warning us of what was sure to come going down this path.
So where was I going when I planned my 30 year escape? First off I was coming back, if there’s one thing clear its Nashville is my home and while it’s not perfect I am invested in making it a little bit better (a little more like Portland). But I had set my eyes on another destination. My favorite Dylan song appears as the title track on Dylan’s 6th album, Highway 61 Revisited an album I claim split time as folk went electric. The subject of the record is referring to the Blues Highway, which runs from New Orleans, Louisiana to Duluth, Minnesota. The road has significant meaning for musicians. Often claimed to be were Robert Johnson sold his soul, Elvis found his soul, and true American music got its voice. The road follows the Mississippi river and ties New Orleans, Memphis, St. Louis, Hannibal, Missouri (hometown of Mark Twain) and Duluth, Minnesota (hometown of Bob Dylan). My plan was to drive up Highway 61 from St. Louis to Hibbing (actual birthplace). The journey is about 1000 miles one-way. I had my hotel reservations booked. My car packed and then something hit me.
I’ve led most of you to believe that the fact my car is in the shop is the reason that I’m sitting here writing and not half way to the North Country right now. But the truth is I had decided not to go before I got in the car. While I was waiting for my lunch I started to think about what I was doing. And basically determined that I was chasing someone else’s story. Dylan left his home at 20 and never returned. There’s nothing magical about a house, its just a building. Driving up 61 is not going to turn me into the greatest songwriter of all time. By the time I get there I will have realized that I’ve just wasted my time and could have gotten the same experience by reading a few books and looking at some photographs (which I’ve already done). And then I’ll have to just turn around and come back.
The song Highway 61 is a myth itself. The characters in the song all come telling the king their problems and he confidently directs them to take everything to Highway 61 as this will solve everything. But we all know this is just satire, there is no answer to all of life’s problems. There is no freight train that carries all our worries away. We have to figure this stuff out ourselves.
But the main thing I’ve learned through this process is we’ve got to start creating our own story. Stop watching everyone else live a life we wish we could. Art should inspire us to create, not just admire or critique, that’s just being lazy.
So what do I do know? How am I to spend my next 30 years? And will I ever make my freedom drive?
I hope you’ll see more of this. I have volumes of writings that have never been read by anyone other than me. I plan to start publishing those in some fashion.
30 years is long time that goes by fast, I’m going to stop running away from my demons and start facing them head on (which is why I had decided to go back to
my birthplace and start finishing what I started).
And if I ever do make it on my epic journey, my never-ending road trip, I won’t be alone and I’ll probably be on a motorcycle.
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French
non-member comment
This is great stuff Mason. Very well written, honest, and inspiring. I'll like to read more of it.