Legends of Folk (and me, born too late)


Dylan, Baez, Havens.

Vietnam, civil rights, Greenwich Village.

I am watching “Legends of Folk: the Village Scene” on PBS.

Born Nov. 8, 1960, the day Kennedy was elected president, I didn’t have hippies for parents, but somehow, from the womb, I heard the call to folk music.

It took me 40-plus years to do more than mimic Baez, Don McLean and Dylan, write my own material and perform it.

Today, I write what passes for folk anthems about love and loss, with the occasional political treatise on contemporary wars thrown in.

The folk tradition defines the medium and the message I choose to embrace.

I may have been born too late to participate in the Greenwich Village scene, but here in New London where writers and singers are encouraged and nurtured, at least some of us are continuing the tradition.

It Ain’t Me, Babe. It ain’t me you’re looking for, babe.

But it could be me, later this century, maybe, jamming with fiddlers and guitarists, keeping the legend alive. Singing fellow songwriters’ tunes like Baez sang Dylan, or them singing mine.

I’m not the one you want, babe. I will only let you down.

Raw, straight talk from Dylan. The soothing, melodious voice of Joan.

Who wouldn’t long for such collaboration and cross-pollination again?

Or, reminiscing, try and recreate it?

2 thoughts on “Legends of Folk (and me, born too late)

  1. Karen

    Pat, you are lucky to be in such an environment. Living out here in a huge metropolis, it is harder to find that kind of tight knit community–nice to be a big fish in a smaller pond. I miss that about CT.

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