Tom Paxton doesn't like to look back too long, for fear of turning to dust that disappears with the slightest gust of hot air. It is OK to glance backwards every so often, he says, but do not stare. Still, for an hour in late August, Paxton is only too happy to talk about what happened a thousand yesterdays ago, before he and his friends became entries in the history books--back when Bob Dylan was just a friend struggling on the coffeehouse circuit, musicians sang about war and race and rent, and idealists swung guitars like swords from the streets and stages. "I don't feel we were living in history," Paxton says, "but we never took any... More >>>
Bob Dylan, long before his Wallflower son would betray the name.