Spending COVID-19 Drunkenly Speeding Down “Highway 61”

Here lies the confluence of rose wine, the Devil, and Bob Dylan

In vino veritas.

It was the high alcoholic content of a bag of frozen wine I drank on my 42nd birthday that conflated “Highway 61 Revisited’s” vivid imagery in a uniquely fanciful way that unveiled the future to me. Forty-five years before COVID, Bob Dylan already said that our future was “easily done.” One frosé later, I’m afraid of what I saw will happen when America’s three ruling essences — God, the Devil, and Donald Trump — maneuver us down “Highway 61.”

As a slightly drunken headache began to cloud my mind, I closed my eyes. At that moment, I saw what I feel like was what President Trump’s “invisible enemy.” In my state, though, COVID-19 wasn’t a sea of red, multi-pronged spores. Instead, “the face of needless suffering and death” was the knowingly bemused face of Bob Dylan in 1965. Heartened, upon making this realization, I opened my eyes. I pushed play on the seventh and title track on the album for the second time that day. My mind — now “knowing” wandered “woke” down the road.