A few weeks ago I wrote a brief paragraph on my dad’s alleged cameo in Martin Scorsese’s Dylan documentary…but when I sat down to watch the second half he was nowhere to be found. Today, however, our copy of No Direction Home arrived in the mail–and I am very excited to confirm that my father’s cameo is real, that he acquits himself remarkably well and that he doesn’t embarrass our family’s good name any more than he does on a daily basis. My two aunts–who saw the film last week–claimed that his appearance would give him “cred” in my eyes; while I’m not sure I’d go that far–he is ripping on one of the most legendary rock concerts of all-time, after all–I was startled by how articulate he was. Also, it goes without saying that it’s positively eerie seeing footage of your twenty-one year-old father speak; I’m 99.9% sure that today is the first time I’ve ever heard his twenty-one year-old voice.
How DOES It Feel, Dad?