I woke up this morning in the gray wet Oakland hills and naturally I thought about “Mr. Tambourine Man.” It’s my favorite Bob Dylan song. I’m not saying it’s the best. There are so many great ones. But it’s my favorite, speaks to me all the time.

I know it’s supposed to be a drug song. I don’t hear it that way. To me it’s about those times in a life when you’re at the end of your rope, mentally stripped, upset, hopeless even. And you’re looking for relief, escape, something like that.

To me the Tambourine Man is a muse — I’m sure I’m wrong, but this is how the song works for me. He is a poet or a storyteller or a singer or a musician — and he lifts me out of the death-in-life feeling which I’ve had before and will have again. He takes me out of myself and shows me other possibilities including joy. He lets me dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free — God, what a lyric.

As I listen to Dylan sing the song I hear the ache in his voice, the overwhelming ache which I feel every time I hear him sing Mr. Tambourine Man. And I remember life is happiness and life is ache. Sorry to be so somber this morning. Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

So, please tell me — which is your favorite Dylan song and why?

This is my only post for today. I’m having lunch in the City with Mitch Juricich, Dave Newhouse and Art Spander — a bunch of old sports writers telling lies to each other. And then I go to teach. Talk to you tomorrow.