On the Road with Bob Dylan by Larry Sloman

Author:Larry Sloman [Sloman, “Ratso”, Larry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-53914-4
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2010-06-09T04:00:00+00:00

Just as Ratso is completing the missive, Dylan strides into the lobby, accompanied by Joni Mitchell and Roger McGuinn. He’s wearing the same outfit as he did on stage, the ever-present hat, dark glasses, black leather jacket, Rolling Thunder Wallace Beery shirt, and worn dungarees. “Hey Ratso, how you doing?” he shouts in greeting.

“I’m fucked,” Ratso screams, seizing the opportunity. “C’mere schmuck,” he urges Dylan over to the desk.

“What’s the matter,” Dylan asks.

“I’m fucked,” Ratso moans. “Rolling Stone just cut me off, they don’t want to pay for any more expenses, they only want spot coverage because I wouldn’t write that bureaucratic bullshit about how much money you were making and shit like that and I’m cool here in Boston ’cause I got friends to stay with but once we leave Boston I won’t be able to afford a hotel room and …”

The three superstars just look in wonder at the reporter decomposing before their eyes.

“And this whole fucking tour,” Ratso rails on, “I’ve just been get-ting jerked off. I’m the fucking nigger on this tour. Look, you fucking invited me that night at the Kettle and since then it’s like I’m a fucking groupie trying to fight my way into the rooms. I was speaking to some of the security guys and they said that you were just jerking me off, that if you really wanted me on this tour, you’d get me a room and shit. I don’t need this, man, I can write about other things, I don’t have to take this abuse and humiliation. Fuck this shit, I’m just gonna go home ….”

“Wait a minute,” Dylan interrupts, as Joni looks on shocked.

“Do you want a Librium?” McGuinn offers a tranquilizer and Ratso scarfs it down.

“Well, what is it you want?” Dylan asks. “Be specific, what do you need?”

By now, Barry Imhoff has been attracted by the racket and he hurries over to calm the reporter down.

“C’mon Ratso, don’t take it so hard,” Imhoff soothes, “we’re only joking. We like you.”

“Bullshit,” Ratso screams. “You fucking hate me. You make it impossible for me to do my job, every time …”

“Hey, what do you need, man?” Dylan interrupts.

“Well,” Ratso calms a little, “I got no money for a hotel …”

“You need a bed, right? Give him a bed,” he orders Imhoff.

“There are no vacancies now,” Imhoff remembers, “but he can sleep in the hospitality suite, there’s a bed there.”

“I need a double bed,” Ratso pouts defiantly, nodding toward Sara.

“Is this your sister?” Dylan smiles innocently. “She gonna sleep here too? OK, you got a bed, what else do you need?” His booted heel taps out a rhythm on the tiled floor. “You need per diem, right?”

Ratso readily agrees. “Yeah, per diem. I got no more money, I got cut off from Rolling Stone …”

“OK, you got it,” Dylan flashes. “What else? C’mon man, what else?”

“Well, I don’t need no salary,” Ratso generously offers, “since I’ll make money from articles and stuff. But I need the data, I need the daily newsletter and stuff like that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.