On February 27, 1999, in the Copa Room at the Sands Casino in Atlantic City, NJ, I danced onstage with Bob Dylan.
Bob did two shows that night, and we had tickets to the late show. We walked around the casino for a few hours before taking our table seats inside the smallish, 750-seat room.
Bob had been letting folks up onstage that tour, playing the last few songs surrounded by fans, much like he did during the Soy Bomb incident on the Grammys the year before.
I was determined to get up if I could, and when a few brave souls jumped up during the intro to “Love Sick,” I left my seat and joined them.
I can still feel his sweaty, turkey-wing shoulder under my hand.
When the band left the stage, I bent down to grab the set list from the floor. A roadie gave me a “you really shouldn’t do that” look, so I left it there. Someone else grabbed it, though, and you can see an image of it here.
Thanks for the memory, Bob.
Cover photo: Bob Dylan at the AJ Palumbo Center, Pittsburgh, PA, November 2002. Photo by Kate D.
This essay was originally posted on Medium on September 19, 2013, and has been backdated accordingly.