When I stuck my head in his dressing room, I saw that he was with his lovely and talented girlfriend at the time, singer Clydie King.
“Hi, Bob,” I said and, offering Clydie a smile, quoted Dylan himself: “What’s a sweetheart like her doing in a place like this?”
Bob nodded in my direction. He didn’t say a word.
“You know, Bob, you grew up just 130 miles to the south of my hometown in Canada. We’re linked by Highway 61. And I gotta tell you something else, man. Just like you, I spent my growing-up years with my ear pressed against the transistor listening to those faraway southern radio stations. Just like you, I learned to love rhythm and blues. And hey, Bob, how about that Bobby Vee? You played piano with him, I could sing both parts to ‘Take Good Care of My Baby.’ We’re soul brothers.”
I waited for his response, but none came. He just seemed to be staring into space. But I kept going.
“When you sang Roy Head’s ‘Treat Her Right’ in rehearsal today, Bob, it sounded just great. I wish you’d record it.”
Finally Bob looked me in the eyes. I’d obviously made a connection.
“Paul, do you think you could introduce me to Larry ‘Bud’ Melman?” he asked, referring to the lovable nerd who was a running character on our show.
I thought Dylan was kidding.
But he wasn’t.
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