"Oh Johnny's in the basement
Mixin' up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinkin' 'bout the government
Man in a trench coat, badge out, laid off
Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid, it's somethin' you did
God knows when but you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alleyway
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap in the big pen
Wants eleven-dollar bills, and
You only got tens."
Thus spake the immortal Bob Dylan.
There is some controversy over whether the last lines in this, the first verse of "Subterranean Homesick Blues," should in fact read "Wants eleven dollar bills, and / You only got ten." That version is boring. The other version is interesting. Decision made.
I chose it for the title of my blog for two reasons. Mostly, I chose it because it has an esoteric ring to it, and one time a camp counselor of mine whom I absolutely worshipped (he was a tight-rope walker and knew a lot about nature. Yuuuup.) said, as his chiseled but somehow endearing features were illuminated by the light of a campfire, that it would be really cool if someone memorized that whole song. What else could I do but memorize that song, if I ever wanted to feel relevant as a human being again?
The second reason that I chose it is that the line has a quirky sort of metaphorical pertinence: life is all about trying to come up with an answer to give the guy who's asking for something that doesn't exist. What would you do if someone asked you for an eleven-dollar bill? You'd have to think differently, yes?