What Bob Dylan knows

surprising lessons from 3 musical legends.

On Sunday, we took a blanket and some beers to a grassy hill 30 minutes outside the city to see John Mellencamp, Bob Dylan, and Willie Nelson play.

Let me start by saying: you don’t go see dudes who peaked 50 years ago because you think you’ll get the same rollicking show you would’ve back then. You go to see near-mythical figures (many of my friends first response to these plans was, “Bob Dylan is still alive?!”) in the flesh, to revel in the storied legacies they’ve built in the music industry and our cultural fabric at large. 

Mellencamp started the show. I had few feelings about this. After all, I’m not a blue collar Gen Xer with heartland values. But just a minute into his #1 hit Jack & Diane, he took a beat to address the crowd. 

“I wrote this song one day when I was 25 years old. I spent all afternoon on the second verse. And it’s still not very good! But I’m going to play it for you anyway…”

Yes, Jack & Diane. You’ve heard it while waiting in line to buy a pretzel at the mall or getting cavities filled at the dentist. It’s undoubtedly the biggest song of his career, and was even named a Song of the Century by the Recording Industry Association of America. 

But just like any other song—or painting or story, for that matter—it’s really just a little something that someone made up one day.

Can you picture it? A young Johnny Cougar, sitting at the kitchen table. Spending an idle afternoon toying with lines about teens sucking on chili dogs at the Tastee Freez, unknowingly writing the song that would define his career.

In 2012, Mellencamp was quoted saying: 

“Hanging on to a song like ‘Jack & Diane,’ I really don’t take a smidgen of pride in that I’ve written that… I don’t take pride in the fact that one song was able to climb the charts and one song wasn’t. I take pride in the fact that I was able to create these songs. That seems to be more important than the fact that this song was a hit or that song was a hit.”

Bob Dylan graced the stage next. This is a man worth an estimated $500 million. Considered one of the greatest songwriters in history, the 83 year old could easily be lounging in a hammock somewhere or taking up bird-watching. 

But no—since 1990, he’s been on what’s aptly called the Never Ending Tour, playing roughly 100 shows a year for 34 years (pandemic pause aside). In the last decade alone, he’s dropped 35 albums—including studio releases, live recordings, and compilations.

When asked why he keeps at it, Dylan once said,

“I keep touring because: it is a perfect way to stay anonymous and still be a member of the social order... You’re the master of your fate.”

This is a man whose life is the ultimate lesson in not getting precious. He knows how to stay warm and loose. He knows that his purpose on this planet is to play music. And so he plays music—day in, day out. 

Willie Nelson was the last to take the stage. The 91 year old slowly strode out under the lights, signature bandana on his head. While he played, Waylon Payne—Willie’s retired guitar player’s son, and a musician in his own right—acted as a sort of musical caregiver. He’d back up the vocals when the elder’s voice gave out, and hopped in to finish a chorus or two when Willie lost the plot for a minute. 

There’s one moment from the show I keep thinking back to: at one point during Move It On Over, Willie gets lost. His eyes go big and unfocused. His jaw a little slack. Waylon does his seamless trick, finishing the verse and making it look like all part of the plan. 

But before the song can wrap, Willie grips his guitar and starts riffing on the melody. He closes his eyes and pulls an unbelievably juicy solo out of thin air. You can feel the way the rhythm of it goes down to his very bones. 

Sure, the words sometimes slip away, but the beat? That’s instinct. It moves through him, reinventing songs he’s played a thousand times as if it’s the first. Even Waylon was taken aback—letting out a reverent “that was awesome,” before jumping back in to play with Willie. 

I can’t say I walk around this earth a big Mellencamp, Dylan, or Willie fan. But I can say that this is the kind of creativity that interests me. 

What I mean by that is: show me all the ways in which you are human.

Tell me that you hate the verse you wrote 50 years ago, and play it for me anyway. Release an album every other week and tour the world for over thirty years straight simply because you must. Get lost, find your way back, and have the grace and good faith to let us watch you do it. 

These three were a reminder that I want to play and create in this same spirit. I want to come to the page knowing only that it’s my job to be here, and let the rest happen as it may. Even when I don’t like the lines I wrote. Even when I forget the lines entirely. May I feel the beat down to my bones, and have a good time riffing along to it. 

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Honey’s Toolbox is your weekly go-to for filling your creative cup and putting your ideas into action—from prompts to spark your imagination to gentle nudges that get you moving. Grab a few tools my friend, it’s time to start tinkering alongside your creative spirit.

1. Listen to A Cowgirl Yearns

Aka my melancholic playlist that’s perfect for driving through amber cornfields in the evening, or wistfully journaling with a cup of coffee in the morning. 

One of my favorite songs this summer was Labi Siffre’s Crying, Laughing, Loving, Lying—to me it is the ultimate bittersweet travel song, best played as you board a flight leaving a person you love or while driving away from a place that feels like home.

When I heard Harry Nilsson’s Everybody’s Talkin’ and realized they have that same folksy fingerpicking guitar melody matched with sweet, sorrowful lyrics, I set out to build a playlist full of songs that give that same feeling. 

2. Establish an internet free zone

One pro of my new home is that my landlord pays for my internet. One con is that the internet he pays for is shitty and doesn’t work in my bedroom, and neither does my cell data. I thought this was a problem at first, but the other night I realized that there’s something nice about being completely offline in the room I use to rest. 

Up until the early 2000s, nobody had wifi in their home, much less smartphones. When I’m desperate for a bed rot session it’s a bummer to have to move to the couch, but I’m finding it remarkably peaceful otherwise. This weekend, might I suggest marking an area of your house internet-free?

3. Use just your hands to make something

And enjoy the satisfaction of creating something tactile and solid. Knead bread dough or mix up a batch of cookies with just your hands. Finger paint! Mold some clay! Write with just pen and paper! 

No tools just hands, baby. Look at you go, you prehensile tetrapod, using your fingers, knuckles, and palms to bring something new into the world!

4. Get lost in the river

The River visual connection engine, that is. The founder encourages users to “clear your mind and surf laterally through image space.” It’s basically a trippier version of Google Images, in which you can explore related images and constantly reiterate the web of similar visuals.

5. Make your own loom and weave something

Like we used to do in middle school. Did you do that in middle school actually or was that just me? It’s simple: you just need cardboard, scissors, string, and scraps to weave with. Here are full instructions. 

And an extra tip: for your first loom, make it really small—no bigger than a few inches wide each way. This’ll be faster to make the loom, faster to make a mini-weaving, and faster to see if this is a craft you enjoy. I recommend making a coaster-sized weaving first!

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That’s all for now. 

Talk soon,

Katie