I have started this posting with a picture of Jack Kerouac’s book, On The Road. I have read this book many times and still enjoy the excitement and energy that it creates. Kerouac wrote it in a frenzy of writing, on a single scroll of paper and it is his mode of writing that keeps you on the edge of your car seat. Bob Dylan and three friends followed Kerouac’s journey back in the 60s. One of the group had a tambourine and it was on this trip that he wrote “Mr Tambourine Man”. I have no pretentions that our trip is as epic but you do get that feeling of an immense country unfolding in front of you. I just wonder whether the central characters Dean Moriarty and Kerouac got as tired as we have become from just driving. Tim is thinking of writing a song called “Mr Miller Light Man” in recognition of our journey.
Last night was our final night in Chicago and we were keen to hear some authentic Chicago sound. We had been warned off the “House of Blues” because it was too commercial. All I can say is that the band (sorry but another name that we failed to get) was great and we were pleased to leave the city with the excellent music ringing in our ears.
Tim and I returned to the Institute of Art this morning to look around the modern collection. We walked through the city bathed in bright spring sunshine. Chicagoans are really lucky to have such an extensive collection on their doorstep. I have highlighted 2 personal favourites by Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock. Tim asked me to put Picasso’s Guitarist (from his Blue period) and Hugh has asked me to highlight the Rembrandt portrait that he saw yesterday.
We wanted to visit one last gravesite our way out of the city. Chester Burnett, more often known as Howlin’ Wolf learnt his Blues directly from Charley Patton and other Delta Bluesmen. Sam Philips, at Sun Records described him as one of is greatest finds. He eventually moved from Memphis to Chicago, recording for Chess Records. A critic at the time wrote “no one could match [Howlin' Wolf] for the singular ability to rock the house down to the foundation while simultaneously scaring its patrons out of its wits” I have heard him described as a prominent harmonica player, a proficient guitarist and an immense stage presence. We eventually found the cemetery but there was no one to help guide us to his grave. It was like looking for a needle in the proverbial haystack. I asked at a very lavish funeral home across the road. The lady was very nice but didn’t have a clue who this Howlin’ Wolf was. She did offer to tell me how to find Al Capone’s however. I did find it very sad that everyone knows where Elvis is buried but someone working across the road and directly involved with the graveyard, didn’t know the name of one of Chicago’s greatest Blues Legends. I have copied in a picture of the grave from the internet.
We are now following our trail on to Duluth, and Dylan’s birthplace. The flat fertile Wisconsin farmland is beginning to change with increasing numbers of coniferous trees and more wetlands. We are staying in a motel half way in the small town of Tomah. I am exhausted and must go to bed. I have swapped the blues for the sound of 2 guys snoring heavily. Good Night.
