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Doink! A neighborhood kid kicked a ball that nearly punched out my kitchen window. I shot out into the backyard ready to deliver a lecture, but the angular teen disarmed me with a smile and a “Sorry, Mister.” I picked up the ball and asked him his name.

“Dylan,” he replied. “After the guy from up the road in Hibbing?” I asked. “Huh?” he muttered. “Bob Dylan,” I explained. “Yeah,” he replied, cracking a smile. “Do you listen to him much?” I pressed. Dylan replied, “Nope, but my dad plays him all the time.” “That’s ’cause he has good taste,” I said, tossing the ball back over the fence.

Although Bob Dylan might not sell as many albums as Bon Jovi, there must be a half a million children and young men named after him. Apparently, it was not just the kids on the edge who harkened to the herald of the 1960s and ’70s, but the Eagle Scouts and the sons and daughters of accountants as well.


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