The world’s newest Very Important Writer is MIA. The eccentrics at the Swedish Academy, who recently gave the world a world-class knee-slapper when it named Bob Dylan the Nobel Laureate in literature, can’t seem to find their new honoree. (That’s right. For all of you who were out of town for a long weekend. Bob Dylan. Literature — I don’t make this stuff up, I just report it.) He’s not returning any of the Academy’s messages. I guess he’s blowing in the wind somewhere.
Or perhaps the reclusive Bob has taken his own advice, to wit “Everybody must get stoned.” This would be one reaction, and not an unreasonable one, to the Swedish Academy’s most counter-intuitive pick out of a long line of counter-intuitive picks. Dylan has had no comment on the bizarre selection. Like the Tar Baby, he don’t say nothing, even after a concert Monday night in Las Vegas. You can hardly blame him. What is there to say? Cornered, his unattractive options would seem to be to tell the Academy to bugger off, or become a co-conspirator in their silliness. So he’s lying low.
But the Academy needs to get in touch, because there’s the business of the ordination ceremony in Stockholm in December, not to mention of where to send the sizable check that goes along with the award. I’m sure Bob will find a way to finesse this last item.
So all you tambourine men out there, please keep an eye out for the Bob. He’s an old guy with — how can I put this nicely? — something short of leading-man looks. He has really bad hair and is often seen wearing a goofy hat. If you see him, please let him know that the administrative director of the Swedish Academy, one Odd Zschiedrich, would really like to talk with him. (My spell-check blew a cathode on Zschiedrich.)
My guess is most TAS readers would not find it odd that the administrative director of the Swedish Academy is named Odd, which this whole business has certainly been.
