Chillin' with Dylan

I can't sleep tonight because I'm trying to memorize all 10 verses of Bob Dylan's epic song "Desolation Row," which is a bit like studying for a pop-culture quiz being administered by the Mad Hatter.

I've got the part about Einstein disguised as Robin Hood pretty well nailed down, but I have trouble remembering whether the Phantom of the Opera shouting at skinny girls comes before or after the part about Dr. Filth keeping his world inside a leather cup. Ophelia, Cinderella, Romeo, Ezra Pound, the good Samaritan and others all make an appearance in this lyrical forest, so it's not always easy to keep them straight.

This is not (only) the work of an idle mind, but also a preparation for my role in the upcoming Bob Dylan Tribute Night from 6 p.m. to midnight this Saturday, July 7, at the Gaslight Tavern, 317 N. Second St. ($3 cover, 80 percent of proceeds to charity.) The event is being billed alternately as "Chillin' with Dylan" and the "No Direction Homies," two titles reflecting the laid-back motif for the night. It may not be polished, but it will be fun.

From what I can gather, the rules for the performers are simple: have fun and don't repeat any songs other people are playing. At last word, the list of acts included such diverse entries as Julia Peterson, the O'Shea sisters, Bob the Baker from Great Harvest bakery, my neighbor Rob-- who's making his public performance debut -- and the Heebie Jeebies.

Rick Frydman and I are going to take turns singing verses of Desolation Row, accompanied by fellow members of our neighborhood front-porch jam group. I'm thinking about making giant illustrated cue cards so we can keep the verses straight.