I won't argue with nitpickers, but the amount of data the human brain can store is estimated to be about 2.5 petabytes [1 petabyte = 1,000 terabytes] of information. As most of what I’m writing is based on my memory, and there is doubtlessly some lost data on my personal hard drive, I can’t guarantee everything I write is either accurate or verifiable. What I do promise is, it’s as best I can recall.
I caught on to Bob Dylan in 1963. My art teacher, Daniel Dallman was a blues picker of substance and turned me on to several old bluesmen, including Robert Johnson. I already owned "Another side of Bob Dylan" - which was just that - a completely different writer folksinger from his first two albums. This was in my sophomore year of high school. JFK would die in a couple months. In those days, art was still offered as a cultural breadth class - even if you could only take one art class in the entire three years of high school. I mean, we don't want to create a generation of beatnik artists unwilling to fight in Viet Nam and other manufactured conflicts, do we?
“What's money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and gets to bed at night, and in between he does what he wants to do.”
Mr. Dallmann (you can call me Dan) invited Diane Hudson and I over to his house. I don't recall exactly where he lived, but it was close to the school. It was a small town, so everything was close to the school. He played the first two Dylan albums for me, along with several others. I had never had a teacher invite me to their house. I remember he was also a fan of Koerner, Ray and Glover, local blues musicians who performed in coffee houses along the West Bank. As a musician, I couldn't help but notice the music consisted primarily of covers of old blues songs.