Bob Dylan in 1964 and 1962.
Photo: Getty Images
Listen, I get it. Bob Dylan was “before my time.” If you tell ANY Baby Boomer that Bob Dylan was “so cool” back in the day, they’ll probably roll their eyes at you because you weren’t actually there to see him in his prime. But you know what? I DON’T CARE. DON’T GET ALL AGEIST ON ME, MOM AND DAD. I’m still allowed to think that the now 70-year-old folk singer is AWESOME. Today is his birthday, so let’s celebrate the fact that he’s still alive and well, albeit slightly doddering and maybe a little strange. But that crooner that helped us to ramble on and reminded every lovelorn lady to not think twice, it’s all right, is still a looker to me.
Mr. Dylan, who single-handedly pioneered the trilby for white men and also made the acoustic guitar an accessory of choice for any folk hero is, in every way, a style icon. A poet, a revolutionary, and not to be utterly superficial, a total hottie. And when another kooky visionary, Sinéad O’Connor, proclaims you to be, hands down, the sexiest man alive, we have to agree. You were affected before it was cool to be affected; you gave us our aching desire for wistful, nomadic types; you have those moon-shaped eyes that have peered into each lady’s soul, despite her age, just by your honest-to-gosh warble. And Bob-Dammit, (see, we just made that up for you… ) those lips are killers. They aren’t just lips. They are pouts, pouts the type that better writers than us have waxed poetic on.
Oh, lastly, can you give boys our age a lesson in footwear? Well-worn leather boots, slightly dusty from misadventuring, will always make us swoon, regardless if you are 17 or 70. Happy birthday Bob Dylan, you are a total hot dude.