Our generation needs a Bob Dylan
By
Kevin Sheneberger
· Monday, April 5, 2004
Saturday night, about 9 or 10 p.m., I stood next to my father in Bender Arena, listening to a now fossilized icon of a culture and social climate that we can now only understand with archeological accuracy. "Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?" As Bob Dylan wrestled these tired words from his aging throat, I remember thinking, "My thoughts exactly.
