I heard a lot of Live that year (and a healthy amount of Rush, which was one of Ken’s favorite bands) and though I wasn’t a fan by any stretch, by April I had at least become able to tolerate them.

In retrospect, I could’ve handled that better.īut anyway, Bob was from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and, as such, was a pretty big fan of Live, who hailed from nearby York (Bob also liked Yanni and Enigma, both of which he often listened to–loudly–on his headphones to lull himself to sleep). I was kind of wary of college that entire first year and hesitant to be any kind of social being. Actually, I wasn’t bonding with much of anyone. I lived in a triple my first year (and my second year, because–cue the sad music–I didn’t really have any friends interested in living with me and so decided to squat in my room and live with two freshmen my sophomore year), and my two roommates, Bob and Ken, bonded a little tighter than I did with either of them. I went to all these events by myself, as was the case with most things that freshman year.īut as freshman year drew to a close, the Cornell Concert Commission announced a show that I was pretty sure I’d be attending with someone else. I saw Stephen King speak at Cornell a little after the Dylan show, and in my second semester saw Buddy Guy over there. It was a George Carlin show less than a month after I arrived in Ithaca and a little more than a week before the Dylan show. The first concert I saw while away at college was also at Cornell. It was a triple bill of Live, Pete Droge, and Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 on April 29, 1995.

Rather, I have come here to talk about another concert I went to that freshman year at what I like to consider the other college in Ithaca, N.Y., Cornell University. Weberman was.)īut I have not come here to talk about Bob Dylan’s trash. (I should also point out that I took what might have been Bob Dylan’s honey bear and empty half-and-half containers from his “dressing room”–a classroom–after the show and held onto them for a decent amount of time. You might have guessed that the third scenario describes how I realized that after spending the better part of a year deciding what college to attend, my choice of Ithaca College was, in fact, the correct one. Or maybe the first concert on your campus is by Bob Dylan, the first time your byline appears in a newspaper is at the beginning of a story previewing that concert, and you spend the afternoon before the concert working as part of the hospitality crew and bringing bottles of water onto one of the buses in the Dylan caravan. Perhaps you hit upon a fantastic bunch of people who become invaluable friends. Perhaps you take a class with a professor who changes the way you look at life. There are many ways to gauge whether one has chosen the right college.

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