Bob Dylan 990202 in Pensacola

Subject: Re: February 2, 1999 - Pensacola, Florida - Set List
From: "Brian A. Sanders" (bsander@mailhost.tcs.tulane.edu)
Date: Wed, 3 Feb 1999 12:49:15 -0600

i'm in the state of ecstasy right now because i witnessed this show
last night in Pensacola and i'm going to the show tonight here in
New Orleans as well.  it should be a good all-around experience due
to last night being gen.admiss. and tonite's being reserved (only bec.
i have a seat floor center row 6).  there was a party on the floor in
the pensacola civic center last night:  mostly young and old wiggle-ing
to dylan's jamming, and yes he jams more than i've witnessed before;
they're probably more contrived than improvised, because they're so
very tight.  setzer is worth the early arrival, and of course dylan and
his band look cold in the first song or two, on their way to comfortable
playin in the groove, but it happens soon enough.  the band as a whole
looks to be having the most fun during acoustic sets, mostly because
that steel-guitarist can get out from behind his table (where he looks
so bored operating a loom) and they sort of gather round to strum and
pick their strings.  what i found most interesting were these live versions
of TOoM songs (in pensacola:  million miles, can't wait, love sick); he
rocks these cuts, which are much more exciting than the studio songs,
and it seems the lighting and the band are especially attuned to these
new picks of the set.

 Love Sick opened the encore and these isolated down lights (white)
barely cut through the dark spooky haze on stage.  everyone was in a
trance; then one of the completely entranced kids climbed onto stage,
 noodled around in a stupor dance for a good five seconds;
as a guard runs out the kid bows on his knees to bob just before being
tackled and dragged offstage.  the music never stopped, and the
crowd was fascinated that much more by what was happening in front
of us.

someone has mentioned (of previous florida shows) that the crowd does
not celebrate the lesser-known songs, but where i was (within 20 feet
of Bob) everyone was celebrating everything.  it wasn't a jam-packed
crowd overall, but the people were excited.  i love the mix of young
and old sharing appreciation and amazement for this man of the century
[and millennium (and always)].  there was no shortage of cheering for
encores: love sick, everything is broken, and an acoustic blowin' in
the wind made up the initial encore; he then said goodnight and they
all unstrapped in the dark, and i was a little worried about this
blowin' conclusion and expecting not fade away and before i could get
too upset they were back on and plugged in for my expected last cut,
which was just great but not nearly as long as the dead used to play
it.  bobby was tired.  we were fired. we were chanting bob for another
encore (maybe a 30-minute highlands?), but it's funny how the flooding
of the arena lights will shut up a crowd.

i should stop there, but for those of you who've stuck through this
i'll share with you an additional highlight of my night.  my friend
liza and i casually exited the arena and enjoyed long-awaited
cigarettes during the walk to the car.  it was to be a long 2-1/2 hour
drive back to new orleans leaving at mid- night, and TOoM carried us
out of florida into alabama, where, at exit 4 (grand bay, al), i asked
liza if she wanted to stop for anything; she said yeah i could use a
drink (both our voices were hurting), and i could definitely use
caffeine for the rest of the drive.  i pulled in at the TA truck stop
and liza walked on into the convenience store.  i threw out a few
empty beer bottles (from pre-concert) and as i turned towards the
store i noticed several big trucks and a nice custom-rigged bus parked
on the other side of the store. 

i walk in the store and see a few truckers, liza's cruisin' the aisles
and so is a hooded guy and then sort of in my immediate way in
the first aisle is this bigger asian-mexican-american dude with a
shaved head.  i'm on my way back to the coke coolers (i usually case
any joint before i decide anything). but all at the same time the big
dude asks me, "can i Help you?" & i notice the hooded figure's profile
includes a protruding hooked nose (the same i focused on during the
concert because drops of sweat were dripping from the tip of it like a
leaky faucet) & i quickly say, "nah, i'm alright" and keep walking
towards the cokes.

my heart starts beating at a 2-fold tempo - i grab a 20oz.plastic
bottle of coke and turn back into the center store aisles in hopes to
stealthily validate my glimpse.  there's a short line (not a straight
queue; rather, an arced gathering) behind a trucker checking out at
the cash register.  in this gathering is liza, me and bob dylan.  he's
holding a newspaper and a bunch of postcards.  during this seemingly
infinitive moment of time that we're waiting on the trucker, there
were very quick visual acknowledgements of one another -- otherwise
his hood kept his head pointed straight ahead at nothing.  he was
wearing his usual oversized blue-gray hooded sweatshirt, some really
long beige street-style skater shorts, and some comfy/clumsy-looking
black snow boots, only exposing about 6 inches of white calf.

a million things went through my head to say (from all those past
daydreams of one-day meeting him), but all i could mumble (to liza)
was, "should we let the man go first?" and i still don't know if it
came out audible, but he let liza check out her diet coke first, then
i got behind dylan out of Respect. the big dude (apparently the
bodyguard) had his eye on me the whole time -- he knew that i knew
before i knew that i knew.  i waited behind dylan for at least 30
seconds before another trucker suggests i go to the other register
with my "pop" because i was in the fuel line.  by now there were
several people waiting, and i'm sure that no one there knew who dylan
was except liza, me, bob, and maybe the bodyguard.

the checkout experience went on for another 3-5 minutes because the
attendant was having trouble scanning bob's circa ten postcards into
the barcode register.  i was still there because there was no one to
help me where the trucker had sent me.  i could tell bob was getting
really anxious and this trucker behind him was making jokes with me
about the chaotic service as my mind was still racing in disbelief.  i
wanted to say something tactfully compassionate to bob only in order
to share a smile with him, but i couldn't say a word.  he doesn't
trust the public and the situation was not calm, and besides that, his
hood blocks out anything that's not within 20 degrees of his nose,
which was pointed about 90 degrees from me.  we were finally checked
out about the same time (00:42:41 on my receipt), but our exits were
in opposite directions, and that was my personal meeting with Bob
Dylan. i had no trouble staying awake for the remaining drive home.