Any details of Dylan/Weberman altercation?
Radioacti...@hotmail.com
no later than 1972, pugilistically encountered A.J. Weberman on the
streets of lower Manhattan--somewhere in the East Village, if memory
serves--but does anyone have a specific date for the infamous
altercation?
I recall reading some NY columnist or reporter (or maybe even a Dylan
book author?) claiming he happened to be walking by at the moment, and
thus was a witness, reporting something to the effect that "Dylan
certainly got the better of Weberman", but if he included details as
to (1) what time of day it was (2) the intersection and (3) how many
other witnesses there were, I sure can't remember them.
If I had to wager, I'd say that writer placed the event somewhere on
East 4th Street, but even if that's correct, what avenue was the
nearest cross-street? And was it on the north or south sidewalk, or
actually in the street? And does history record what, if anything,
Dylan said before, or while, jumping him? And did he approach from
the rear, surprising him, or did Weberman have a few seconds to brace
himself?
And did it last only 10 or 15 seconds, or was it the sort of serious
pummeling that takes over a minute to administer? And how did it
conclude--did some pal of Weberman's accompanying him manage to pull
them apart, or did Dylan decide he'd made his point and thus backed
off on his own triumphantly? And what kind of bruises, or worse, did
Weberman sustain?
And did Weberman get in any punches of his own, and if so, how worse
for wear did the scrappy fighter Kid Zimmerman emerge from his
(presumably) last-ever fight?
Ever-curiously,
BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
streetelevison
laughter down on
Elizabeth Street
Radioacti...@hotmail.com
>
>
fight amusing, but each of my inquiries are quite serious, I assure
you.
And yes, it's occurred to me that I could simply ask Weberman, or at
least could have back when I (only casually) knew him 1973-74, but for
some strange reason I never thought then to query him on it. And by
the time I was publishing Zimmerman Blues in the last half of the 70s,
I'd largely lost contact with him, having last run into him during mid-
August 1976 in Kansas City, of all places, each of us drawn there (for
widely-divergent reasons) by the Republican National Convention.
But again, can anyone provide any details of this seminal--if
unfortunately violent--moment in the odd history of Dylanology?
Ever-awaiting Dylan's reclamation of his voice,
BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
The Hysterical Bride
ajw at nyc.rr.com
Babs
In case you think you were just being laughed at, it seems to me
someone was being clever by quoting lyrics from "Where Are You
Tonight?" At least I found it clever.
Where Are You Tonight
There's a long-distance train rolling through the rain, tears on the
letter I write.
There's a woman I long to touch and I miss her so much but she's
drifting like a
satellite. There's a neon light ablaze in this green smoky haze,
laughter down on
Elizabeth Street
And a lonesome bell tone in that valley of stone where she bathed in a
stream of pure
heat. Her father would emphasize you got to be more than street-wise
but he practiced
what he preached from the heart.
A full-blooded Cherokee, he predicted to me the time and the place
that the trouble would start.
There's a babe in the arms of a woman in a rage
And a longtime golden-haired stripper onstage
And she winds back the clock and she turns back the page
Of a book that no one can write.
Oh, where are you tonight?
The truth was obscure, too profound and too pure, to live it you have
to explode.
In that last hour of need, we entirely agreed, sacrifice was the code
of the road.
I left town at dawn, with Marcel and St. John, strong men belittled by
doubt.
I couldn't tell her what my private thoughts were but she had some way
of finding
them out. He took dead-center aim but he missed just the same, she was
waiting,
putting flowers on the shelf.
She could feel my despair as I climbed up her hair and discovered her
invisible self.
There's a lion in the road, there's a demon escaped,
There's a million dreams gone, there's a landscape being raped,
As her beauty fades and I watch her undrape,
I won't, but then again, maybe I might.
Oh, if I could just find you tonight.
I fought with my twin, that enemy within, 'til both of us fell by the
way.
Horseplay and disease is killing me by degrees while the law looks the
other way.
Your partners in crime hit me up for nickels and dimes, the guy you
were lovin'
couldn't stay clean.
It felt outa place, my foot in his face, but he should-a stayed where
his money was
green.
I bit into the root of forbidden fruit with the juice running down my
leg.
Then I dealt with your boss, who'd never known about loss and who
always was
too proud to beg.
There's a white diamond gloom on the dark side of this room and a
pathway that leads
up to the stars.
If you don't believe there's a price for this sweet paradise, remind
me to show you the
scars.
There's a new day at dawn and I've finally arrived.
If I'm there in the morning, baby, you'll know I've survived.
I can't believe it, I can't believe I'm alive,
But without you it just doesn't seem right.
Oh, where are you tonight?
----------
One of my many favorite lines is from this song:
"If you don't believe there's a price for this sweet paradise, remind
me to show you the
scars."
B.
khematite
> no later than 1972, pugilistically encountered A.J. Weberman on the
> streets of lower Manhattan--somewhere in the East Village, if memory
> serves--but does anyone have a specific date for the infamous
> altercation?
>
> I recall reading some NY columnist or reporter (or maybe even a Dylan
> book author?) claiming he happened to be walking by at the moment, and
> thus was a witness, reporting something to the effect that "Dylan
> certainly got the better of Weberman", but if he included details as
> to (1) what time of day it was (2) the intersection and (3) how many
> other witnesses there were, I sure can't remember them.
>
> If I had to wager, I'd say that writer placed the event somewhere on
> East 4th Street, but even if that's correct, what avenue was the
> nearest cross-street? And was it on the north or south sidewalk, or
> actually in the street? And does history record what, if anything,
> Dylan said before, or while, jumping him? And did he approach from
> the rear, surprising him, or did Weberman have a few seconds to brace
> himself?
For what it's worth, Clint Heylin, in A Life in Stolen Moments,
reports this as having occurred in October 1971. He also reports that
"Dylan is eventually pulled off Weberman by some passing hippies." A
2001 Rolling Stone article has some additional details from Weberman
himself.
http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/5932153/tangled_up_in_bob
Three decades later, A.J., now fifty-five, his once-wild mane receded
to silver fringe (but still talking very fast), recalls the incident,
one of the more colorful in the often drearily hagiographic
Dylanological chronicles: "I'd agreed not to hassle Dylan anymore, but
I was a publicity-hungry motherfucker. . . . I went to MacDougal
Street, and Dylan's wife comes out and starts screaming about me going
through the garbage. Dylan said if I ever fucked with his wife, he'd
beat the shit out of me. A couple of days later, I'm on Elizabeth
Street and someone jumps me, starts punching me.
"I turn around and it's like -- Dylan. I'm thinking, 'Can you believe
this? I'm getting the crap beat out of me by Bob Dylan!' I said, 'Hey,
man, how you doin'?' But he keeps knocking my head against the
sidewalk. He's little, but he's strong. He works out. I wouldn't fight
back, you know, because I knew I was wrong. He gets up, rips off my
'Free Bob Dylan' button and walks away. Never says a word.
"The Bowery bums were coming over, asking, 'How much he get?' Like I
got rolled. . . . I guess you got to hand it to Dylan, coming over
himself, not sending some fucking lawyer. That was the last time I
ever saw him, except once with one of his kids, maybe Jakob, and he
said, 'A.J. is so ashamed of his Jewishness, he got a nose job,' which
was true -- at least in the fact that I got a nose job. . . ."
It was all too bad, A.J. said now, remembering how Dylan reportedly
offered him a series of jobs if he would stop his "Free Bob" campaign.
"He said I could be his chauffeur, but I told him I don't know how to
drive. Then he said I could be his prompter. But I said, 'Forget it!
It's not going to work! I'm the one person you can't buy out.' In
retrospect, that was a sad mistake. I could have had a career as a
rock critic or something, and not as a pot dealer, and not, you know,
ended up where I'm going to end up."
Radioacti...@hotmail.com
>
>
Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
Google for some odd reason, though with lots of hits including that
www.nyc.rr.com address and several mentions of Weberman, but none of
them, when clicked on, seem to go anywhere. What's up with THAT, I
wonder?
Meanwhile, I DID manage to find a Rolling Stone account by Marc
Jacobson, quoting Weberman himself sometime in the 1990s, that
identifies the altercation location as being on Elizabeth Street,
though no cross-street was cited.
Jacobson quotes Weberman, describing how he was approached from the
rear, and thus didn't realize who was attacking him until he'd been
hit a couple times already. He also insists he didn't fight back,
because he'd realized he had brought this on himself and he was in the
wrong, this happening but "a couple days" after Sara had caught him,
garbage-can-lid in hand, out front of the Dylans' MacDougal Street
three-story townhouse.
(By the way, I actually believe Weberman's claim of no self-defense:
had Dylan for whatever reason elected to start punching me during any
of our couple dozen encounters 1975-1998, I can't imagine I'd have hit
back either, even though at 6 foot I'm five inches taller, since: (1)
I'm suspect I'd be worthless in any kind of fisticuffs, something
fortunately I've never had to test; and (2) hey, it was Dylan, after
all--it would have been akin breaking my only copy of "Highway 61
Revisited" ! )
Anyway, in that Jacobson-quoted account, Weberman mentions NO date,
not even a year, much less the specific date I'm so doggedly seeking.
That is all in the online "EDLIS The Bob Dylan Who's Who" website,
which may or may not be part of the fine Expecting Rain website. And
quite annoyingly and erroneously, accompanying this is a photo
captioned, "Dylan fights Weberman", something it most assuredly does
NOT portray.
Instead, that particular photo was taken on the evening of Easter
Sunday, April 3, 1983, at LAX, and portrays freelance photographer
Gary Aloian tussling with Dylan shortly after The Inscrutable One
deplaned from NYC, and was snapped by a fellow paparazzi who was at
the airport with Aloian hoping to snap another celeb when Dylan
happened into the arrival area. That photo appeared on April 6, 1983,
on the front page of The Los Angeles Herald-Examiner, a newspaper I
happened to be writing for at the time. Aloian soon filed suit (of
course), and eventually settled for G-d knows how large (or small) a
portion of the Dylan fortune.
But back on-topic now: Any additional details regarding the Elizabeth
Street attack, anyone?
Still quite determined to get to the bottom of this,
BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
The Hysterical Bride
> > ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
> nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
I don't know why it doesn't work for you.
I've corresponded with AJ, and that's the address I have in my address
book.
Radioacti...@hotmail.com
Hey Madam "Babs"...
Thanks for your comment re "Where Are You Tonight?", and yes, of
COURSE I recogized that lyric! It's just that it seemed like Ms.
"Bride", in tersely stating "Laughter down on Elizabeth Street", was
assuming I was merely posting this for laughs, rather than a serious
inquiry. And when I first read her comment, I hadn't yet determined
that the altercation apparently HAPPENED on Elizabeth Street! (And
like you, Babs, I too, consider the finest moment--in a stunning track
just chock-full of tremendous lines and Dylan vocal pyrotechnics--to
be that "paradise price/show you the scars" passage.)
Incidentally, I never thought she was laughing at me. Still, many
rec.music.dylan types DID do so, repeatedly for a good while, and
quite publicly herein, via counter-posts. This ridiculing my various
postings mostly happened around the turn of the century, but it
happened so often that I finally just steered clear of posting again
herein until rather recently.
And since those occasionally-nasty posters seldom even addressed my
various arguments, much less attempted to refute them, I imagine they
dismissed me chiefly because I'm from an earlier generation of Dylan
fans/critics/observers--an unassociated group of several thousand of
us who pre-dated the more recent so-called BobCats*, who in too many
instances clearly disdained at least me (if not also my fellow
holdovers from the 60s and 70s Dylan subcult), perhaps because they
see me and some of my contemporaries as (1) unhip; (2) clueless; (3)
somehow not properly appreciative of Dylan's work; or, and maybe worst
of all, (5) just old.
Not yet ready for the grave,
BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
*Clever as it is, my how I detest that term! Despite its Weberman
connection, isn't "Dylanologist" way less childish?
The Hysterical Bride
>
> Hey Madam "Babs"...
>
> Thanks for your comment re "Where Are You Tonight?", and yes, of
> COURSE I recogized that lyric! It's just that it seemed like Ms.
> "Bride", in tersely stating "Laughter down on Elizabeth Street",
I did not make that post. streettelevision did. (That was the first
thing that came to my mind, however, to respond to you, but I didn't
feel it was an appropriate answer to your query, so I didn't post the
quote.)
was
> assuming I was merely posting this for laughs, rather than a serious
> inquiry.
I gave you AJ's e-mail, so you could write him and ask him yourself,
and possibly hear it from the horse's mouth.
And when I first read her comment, I hadn't yet determined
> that the altercation apparently HAPPENED on Elizabeth Street!
Again, streettelevision made that comment, not I. :) (p.s. i didn't
think it was a joke, either)
(And
> like you, Babs, I too, consider the finest moment--in a stunning track
> just chock-full of tremendous lines and Dylan vocal pyrotechnics--to
> be that "paradise price/show you the scars" passage.)
>
> Incidentally, I never thought she was laughing at me.
Why would I laugh at you? You're not funny. (ok, I'm sorry. I just
cracked a joke.)
Still, many
> rec.music.dylan types DID do so, repeatedly for a good while, and
> quite publicly herein, via counter-posts. This ridiculing my various
> postings mostly happened around the turn of the century, but it
> happened so often that I finally just steered clear of posting again
> herein until rather recently.
>
> And since those occasionally-nasty posters seldom even addressed my
> various arguments, much less attempted to refute them, I imagine they
> dismissed me chiefly because I'm from an earlier generation of Dylan
> fans/critics/observers--an unassociated group of several thousand of
> us who pre-dated the more recent so-called BobCats*, who in too many
> instances clearly disdained at least me (if not also my fellow
> holdovers from the 60s and 70s Dylan subcult), perhaps because they
> see me and some of my contemporaries as (1) unhip; (2) clueless; (3)
> somehow not properly appreciative of Dylan's work; or, and maybe worst
> of all, (5) just old.
Bob Dylan is old, and he's sexier than he's ever been. I can't wait
until he shows up at my door, looking like a prune. (But I guess
that's never going to happen.)
The Hysterical Bride
> On Jun 27, 9:01 pm, RadioactiveSeat...@hotmail.com wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > > ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> > Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
> > nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
>
> - Show quoted text -
Hi Bryan. After I read your post, I forwarded it to AJ, at the address
I gave, and asked him if he cared to comment.
This is what I got for you, straight from the horse's mouth. (He said
I could use it.)
"place - the laughter on Elizabeth Street
time - I waited for you on the running board as the springtime turned
slowly
into Autumn
Did I throw punches - no I was glad to see Dylan - If I ever saw you I
don't
know whether I would kill you or kiss you - it wouldn't matter to you
anyhow
The answers are in Dylan's word cause they say Weberman is obsessed
with
Dylan - What is not realized is that Dylan is also obsessed with
Weberman."
Sorry it's not exactly what you were looking for.
Also, I am totally miffed as to why the address wouldn't work.
Are you sure you got it right?
aj at nyc.rr.com
I'm having no problems with it whatsoever.
Take it easy dude,
Rachel :)
P.S. Don't ever forget, old is sexy! :)
M. Rick
Does anybody remember laughter?
streetelevison
> On Jun 27, 9:08 pm, The Hysterical Bride <rache...@aol.com> wrote:
>
>
>
>
>
> > On Jun 27, 9:01 pm, RadioactiveSeat...@hotmail.com wrote:
>
> > > > ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> > > Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
> > > nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
>
> - Show quoted text -
In the Secret Message Of R&R
When Bruce sings:
Adam Raised A Cain
He really is sayin:
Alan Where's The Key...
CurrentOccupant_dudley
> > ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
> nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
> Google for some odd reason, though with lots of hits including that www.nyc.rr.com address and several mentions of Weberman, but none of
> them, when clicked on, seem to go anywhere. What's up with THAT, I
> wonder?
...
>
> Still quite determined to get to the bottom of this,
> BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
Dear Mr. STYBLE,
I'm thinking, tho' i'm not any more certain of this than anything
else, that Ms. Bride (wife to Arthur Mc) is trying to give you a coded
version of an email address, that is:
ajw at nyc.rr.com
replace at w/ @ & close up spaces.
This may or may not be AJ's email. Don't know don't care. Certainly
nyc.rr is a big huge provider & trying to drill down to Mr. Weberman
from there is a fool's errand.
Good luck, i hope you make it. If you do, i want a piece.
Sincerely,
Robert dudley Dickinson
The Hysterical Bride
> On Jun 28, 12:01 am, RadioactiveSeat...@hotmail.com wrote:
>
> > > ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> > Much appreciate your help, Ms. "Bride", but I can't seem to get this
> > nyc.rr.com website to work for me at ALL! It keeps throwing me to
> > them, when clicked on, seem to go anywhere. What's up with THAT, I
> > wonder?
>
> ...
>
>
>
> > Still quite determined to get to the bottom of this,
> > BRYAN STYBLE/Seattle
>
> Dear Mr. STYBLE,
>
> I'm thinking, tho' i'm not any more certain of this than anything
> else, that Ms. Bride (wife to Arthur Mc) is trying to give you a coded
> version of an email address, that is:
>
> ajw at nyc.rr.com
>
> replace at w/ @ & close up spaces.
>
> This may or may not be AJ's email. Don't know don't care. Certainly
> nyc.rr is a big huge provider & trying to drill down to Mr. Weberman
> from there is a fool's errand.
>
> Good luck, i hope you make it. If you do, i want a piece.
>
> Sincerely,
> Robert dudley Dickinson
Oh, it's AJ all right! I can vouch for that. He's my friend! :) (He's
really nice.)
And the e-mail works! So go for it, Bryan, if you dare! (From AJ's
answer to me, I am sceptical that we are going to get the gory
details.)
And yes, it was a code. I thought you weren't supposed to put e-mails
up on the Internet due to attacks from bots, or however you say it. (I
don't know much about computers.)
CurrentOccupant_dudley
> And yes, it was a code. I thought you weren't supposed to put e-mails
> up on the Internet due to attacks from bots, or however you say it. (I
> don't know much about computers.)
Dear Hysterical,
May i call you Hysterical?
Your usage was correct, to my understanding, for the reason you
suggest.
I just wanted to clarify to the Dude what was up, while still
defeating the dreadBots.
Hope thnigs are OK w/U,
dudley
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -- Hide quoted text -
>
> - Show quoted text -
Bob Dylan at 120:
http://images.victoriantrading.com/store/catalogimages/17r/17r352.jpg
lol.
Bob, I love you very much. But if you are having sex, I am going to be
sick. There is something very very VERY different about the way we
love each other, if you are singing about me, and mean it, and are
still having sex.
And, I mean, how could you do that with Sally Kirkland after writing
T[O]oM? Why didn't you wait for me?
Oh, so you figure, since I am never coming back to you, and you are
coming back to me, you can do it?
You are completely full of shit, Mr. Dylan.
Completely.
But then I think to myself, why should I deny him that?
Well, in that case, what's the point of being together at all, if you
are going to fuck other people?
In which case, stop singing about me ASSHOLE.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
Ring ring
Rachel: Hello?
Dylan: Is this Rachel?
Rachel: Speaking.
Dylan: This is Mr. Dylan
Rachel: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD SEX?
Dylan: Last week. (lol)
click.
Rachel hangs up phone.
take #2
Ring ring
Rachel: Hello?
Dylan: Is this Rachel?
Rachel: Speaking.
Dylan: This is Mr. Dylan
Rachel: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD SEX?
Dylan: About a month ago. (lol)
click.
Rachel slams down phone.
take #3
Ring ring
Rachel: Hello?
Dylan: Is this Rachel?
Rachel: Speaking.
Dylan: This is Mr. Dylan.
Rachel: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD SEX?
Dylan: A year ago.
Rachel: WHY ARE YOU SO HORNY. YOU SING ABOUT ME ALL THIS TIME, AND
WAIT UNTIL YOUR DICK DIES BEFORE YOU COME BACK TO ME?
Dylan: You can have what's left of me.
Rachel: Ok.
take #4
Ring ring
Rachel: Hello?
Dylan: Is this Rachel?
Rachel: Speaking.
Dylan: This is Mr. Dylan
Rachel: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD SEX?
Dylan: I don't really see as how that is really any of your business.
Rachel: OH REALLY?
Dylan: Yes, REALLY.
pause...
silence...
Dylan: Are you going to hang up on me? (lol)
Rachel (quietly): No...(you perverted horny *ass*hole, she mumbles to
herself)
***
FUCK YOU FOREVER BOB DYLAN!!!!!!!!
FUCK YOU FOR FUCKING AND SINGING ABOUT ME AT THE SAME TIME.
I WANT THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE *FULL* *OF*
*SHIT.*
And guess what?
They don't care, and you are going to get away with it.
FOAD.
The Hysterical Bride
But also, I swear to G-d, seeing your face, and you letting me touch
your behind and doing the double shuffle with you (unless you were
trying to get away) was the BEST thing to EVER happen to me, and I
love you SO MUCH, and more than anything else in the whole world, I
want this to be true, I want you to be singing about me, (I think you
are regardless), and I want you to come back to me.
Please.
I love you so bad.
Love,
Rachel Ben-Levi
Babs
> Thanks for your comment re "Where Are You Tonight?", and yes, of
> COURSE I recogized that lyric! It's just that it seemed like Ms.
> "Bride", in tersely stating "Laughter down onElizabethStreet", was
> assuming I was merely posting this for laughs, rather than a serious
> inquiry. And when I first read her comment, I hadn't yet determined
> that the altercation apparently HAPPENED onElizabethStreet! (And
> like you, Babs, I too, consider the finest moment--in a stunning track
> just chock-full of tremendous lines and Dylan vocal pyrotechnics--to
> be that "paradise price/show you the scars" passage.)
I was on Elizabeth Street today. I found no remaining evidence of said
altercation. ;-)
Pamela Brown
Pamela Brown
https://www.bobdylan.com/songs/where-are-you-tonight-journey-through-dark-heat/
But here, there is laughter...also a foot in the face...a father, a mysterious woman and a reference to St. John...
Hmmm...St. John was also a nickname for John Lennon....
Pamela Brown
Pamela Brown
and 'code' could refer to 'he examines the nightingale's code' from Freeze-Out/VOJ....
so a new strategy...using one song to point to another...