Look at Jerry admiring Bob sucking down that heater. He's proud, yet his befuddled smile masks an undercurrent of jealousy, knowing no matter how hard he tries, how many hours of practice he puts in, how much he dedicates himself to his craft, he'll never attain the same level of nicotinal satisfaction as the master, the poet laureate of rock 'n' roll. The voice of the promise of the 60s counterculture. The guy who forced folk into bed with rock. Who donned makeup in the 70s and disappeared into a haze of substance abuse. Who emerged to find Jesus. Who was written off as a has-been by the end of the '80s, and who suddenly shifted gears releasing some of the strongest music of his career beginning in the late '90s. Ladies and gentlemen — Columbia recording artist Bob Dylan!
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