Ozzy Osbourne Breaks $3.2 Million Rolex and Salesman Thinks He Can’t Afford It – Hw
Precision Time Pieces on Beverly Hills Rodeo Drive was where the world’s most expensive watches were sold. That hot Tuesday afternoon, store manager Vincent Carmichael was inspecting the milliondoll collection in his display cases, completely unaware that in just a few hours, he would make the biggest mistake of his life.
The 58-year-old Vincent was a Harvard Business School graduate and third generation luxury watch dealer who considered himself a master at categorizing customers by their appearance. But the elderly man about to enter his store would shatter all his prejudices and deliver Beverly Hills most expensive lesson because sometimes the greatest fortunes hide beneath the most ordinary clothes.
Vincent had started that day with his usual routine. He looked impeccable in his Italian suit, polished English shoes, and $50,000 PC Filipe watch. He was giving instructions to his assistant, Maria Rodriguez. Maria, we need to be careful with customer selection. Watches at this level aren’t for everyone.
Maria was a 26-year-old Latina with a psychology degree from UCLA. And while she was uncomfortable with her boss’s elitist attitude, she needed this job to pay off her student loans. I understand, Mr. Carmichael, she replied. The watches in the display cases truly carried astronomical price tags. A $2.8 million Pate Filipe, a $1.
7 million Richard Mill, and Vincent’s Crown Jewel, a $3.2 million Paul Newman Rolex Daytona. This last piece was special because only three had ever been made, and this one came from Paul Newman’s personal collection. Vincent considered this watch the store’s crown, and only showed it to the most distinguished clientele.
At 2:30, the store’s door opened. The man who walked in was nothing like what Vincent expected, about 75 years old, wearing faded Levis’s jeans, a gray t-shirt, and worn Converse sneakers. Behind thick framed glasses, curious eyes surveyed his surroundings. Vincent looked him up and down and categorized him as a typical curious tourist.
But this ordinarylooking visitor was actually John Michael Osborne, known worldwide as the famous Aussie Osborne, and he had a $5 million shopping budget in his pocket for Sharon’s 74th birthday. When Aussie surveyed the store, the opulence of the atmosphere impressed him. Crystal chandeliers, marble flooring, gold details.
Everything was in the luxurious style that Sharon loved. “Bloody hell,” he muttered in his Birmingham accent. “This place looks more expensive than Buckingham Palace.” As he approached the display cases, his eye caught the Paul Newman Daytona. “Now that’s a proper watch,” he thought. He remembered photos taken with Paul Newman in the 1960s.
Back then, both were young and successful. This watch would make the perfect nostalgic gift for Sharon. Vincent approached, feeling uncomfortable with the customer’s style. “Can I help you, sir?” he said, his voice professional, but cold. Ozie turned his head with that warm smile. “Yeah, mate.
I was looking at that Rolex in the corner. Quite stunning.” Vincent’s eyebrows furrowed. The man’s accent clearly indicated he came from the lower class. “That’s a very special piece, sir. Perhaps you’d be interested in something more accessible. Curiosity sparked in Oussie’s eyes. Accessible? What’s special about this one, then? Vincent smiled inwardly.
These types of customers usually left immediately after hearing the price. This is a 1968 Paul Newman Rolex Daytona, sir. One of only three ever made. It’s from Paul Newman’s personal collection. He deliberately didn’t mention the price. Aussie said with interest. Paul Newman, eh? Great actor.
Met him a few times back in the 70s. Lovely bloke. What’s the price? Vincent was surprised. Claiming to have met Paul Newman was odd. The price is $3.2 million, sir, plus tax, of course. Ozie didn’t seem shocked at all. Reasonable for such a piece, he said calmly. Could I have a closer look? This response shocked Vincent, but due to professional courtesy, he began removing the watch from the display case.
His assistant, Maria, was curiously watching the situation. Usually, such customers fled after hearing the price. But this elderly man seemed different. She noticed a tremor in his hands. It could be a sign of aging, but that tremor would soon cause a $3.2 million disaster. When Oussie took the watch in his hands, he felt its weight.
Real craftsmanship was like this. Heavy solid quality. Beautiful craftsmanship, he said, examining the watch from different angles. Sharon would love this. It’s our 42nd wedding anniversary next month. Vincent perked up. A 42-year marriage was impressive. Maybe this man was different than he thought. Your wife appreciates fine time pieces? He asked, his voice a bit warmer. Ozie laughed.
Oh, mate. Sharon appreciates everything fine. Houses, cars, jewelry. She’s got expensive taste, that woman. But she’s worth every penny. Maria smiled. The man’s love for his wife was very genuine. As Ozie continued examining the watch, he went on, “You know, I bought my first Rolex in 1972.
Cost me 500 quid back then. Now look at these prices. Vincent’s interest increased. £500 was big money in 1972. What business are you in, sir? He asked, Ozie said modestly. Entertainment industry. Well, was retired now mostly. Sharon keeps me busy with honeydew lists. While Aussie was examining the watch, he experienced a sudden hand spasm caused by Parkinson’s disease.
The watch slipped from his fingers and fell onto the marble floor. Glass pieces scattered in all directions. Paul Newman’s signed dial split in two. The mechanism scattered everywhere. Vincent’s scream echoed throughout every corner of the store. What have you done? His face turned red, his veins bulged. That was a $3.2 million watch.
Do you understand what you’ve just destroyed? Ozie said calmly. I’m terribly sorry, mate. My hand slipped. I’ll pay for the damages, of course. Vincent’s anger spiraled out of control. Pay for it? You look at yourself. You’re wearing a $20 t-shirt and sneakers with holes. This watch costs more than you’ll make in 10 lifetimes.
The other customers in the store, an elderly Japanese collector and a young tech billionaire, were watching the situation in astonishment. Maria was looking at her boss’s behavior in horror. Vincent was completely out of control now. How did you even get in here? This is Beverly Hills, not some thrift store.
People like you shouldn’t be allowed in establishments like this. That familiar glint appeared in Aussiey’s eyes, the composure that came from 50 years of stage experience. People like me, he asked, his voice still calm, but now with an edge. And what exactly do you mean by that, mate? Vincent went even further. Look at your clothes, your shoes.
You probably don’t even have $500 to your name. This is a joke. I’m calling security. At that moment, the Japanese customer, Hiroshi Tanaka, expressed his discomfort. Excuse me, but this behavior is very unprofessional. Vincent turned to him. Mr. Tanaka, I apologize. This person clearly doesn’t belong here. Ozie pulled out his wallet, and that old leather wallet truly looked worn.
Vincent said triumphantly, “See, probably has food stamps in there.” But what Aussie pulled out shocked Vincent. A jet black JP Morgan Chase private bank card. A card only given to customers with net worth over $25 million. Vincent froze when he saw the card. This can’t be real. He stammered.
Ozie placed the card on the counter. Check it if you want, mate. No limit on this one. Maria approached and examined the card. Mr. car. Michael, this is a real JP Morgan reserve card, and the name is John M. Osborne. Vincent’s hand trembled as he took the card, feeling the coldness of the metal. These cards were only given to ultra high netw worth individuals. Mr.
Osborne, he said, his voice now shaky. What industry did you say you were in? Ozie flashed that famous mischievous smile. Entertainment, mate. Music, specifically. Ever heard of Black Sabbath? At that moment, 22-year-old UCLA student Jake Wilson, who was in the corner of the store delivering a package for the part-time delivery service he worked for, overheard this conversation.
“Wait a minute,” he said, approaching excitedly. “Black Sabbath, are you telling me you’re Aussie bloody Osborne?” Vincent was confused. “Who’s Oussie Osborne?” Jake couldn’t believe it. “Dude, are you serious? He’s only the godfather of heavy metal, the prince of darkness. He literally invented a whole genre of music, Oussie said modestly.
Well, that’s putting it a bit strong, son. But guilty as charged. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the store completely changed. Jake pulled out his phone. Holy, I’m standing next to Ozie Osborne. Hiroshi Tanaka now understood the situation too. Ah, Ozan, my son is huge fan in Tokyo. Aussie smiled at both of them. Nice to meet you both. Vincent’s world had collapsed.
A music legend was standing in front of him, and he had called him poor. Maria said in shock, “Mr. Osborne, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. My dad played your music all the time when I was growing up.” Ozie said calmly, “Don’t worry, love. Happens all the time. I look different without the stage makeup and leather pants.
” Vincent began stammering. Mr. Osborne, I I had no idea who you were. This is This is a tremendous honor. Aussie raised his hand. Easy there, mate. No need for the royal treatment, but you might want to work on that customer service. Jake was still in shock. Dude, your net worth is like $220 million. You could buy this entire store.
Aussie burst into laughter. Don’t give me ideas, son. Sharon already thinks I spend too much. Oussie looked at the watch pieces on the floor. Now Vincent, mate, about this mess. How much damage are we talking? Vincent was now sweating. Mr. Osborne, given who you are, perhaps we can Ozie cut him off. No special treatment, mate.
I broke it. I pay for it. Fair and square. Vincent calculated. The watch was insured for 3.2 2 million, but given its provenence and rarity, probably 4 million total replacement cost. Aussie didn’t even hesitate. Done. Processed the payment. Maria couldn’t believe it. $4 million and you’re not even hesitating? Aussie replied. Maria Love.
At my age, money is just numbers. But breaking Paul Newman’s watch, that’s personal. He was a good man. Hiroshi said respectfully. Very honorable, Osborne son,” Jake added. “This is the most expensive accident in Beverly Hills history.” Vincent’s hands were trembling as he processed the card.
The $4 million transaction went through without any questions. While making the payment, Aussie told the story. “Paul Newman and I met at a charity event in 1975. Nice bloke, very down to earth. He loved cars and watches. Would have laughed at this situation.” Jake asked in amazement. You actually knew Paul Newman.
Aussie smiled. Son, when you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you meet everyone. Frank Soninatra, Elvis, the Beatles. Different era back then. Maria asked curiously. What was it like meeting Elvis? Ozy’s eyes welled up. Tragic, actually. He was struggling with his demons. We all were back then. But his music immortal.
Vincent was now trying to compose himself. Mr. Osborne, this experience has been educational, he said shamefully. Ozie put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. Good. Learning never stops, mate. And Vincent, next time someone walks into your store, remember, you never know who they might be. Hiroshi respectfully added, “In Japan, we say never judge a book by its cover.
” Ozie nodded his head. Wise words. Your culture understands respect. Jake gathered his courage and asked, “Mr. Osborne, can I ask you something? How do you stay so humble with all your success?” Oussie thought for a moment. “Son, success is temporary. Character is permanent. Money comes and goes, but how you treat people stays with you forever.
” These words affected everyone in the store. Vincent spoke shamefully. “Mr. Osborne, I owe you a sincere apology.” Ozie raised his hand. Apology accepted, mate. But promise me something. Treat everyone who walks through that door with the same respect you’d show me. Vincent said determinedly. Absolutely, sir. This will change how I do business.
Ozie pointed to the watch pieces on the floor. Keep those pieces. Frame them. Put a sign underneath. The day we learned not to judge by appearances, Maria exclaimed excitedly. That’s actually a great idea. Jake also added, “This should become like a landmark or something.” Aussie smiled. “Just remember the lesson, not the money involved.
” Then he turned to Vincent with a serious expression. “And Vincent, that young lady, Maria, there, she’s got more class than half your usual customers. Treat her well.” Maria’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Mr. Osborne,” she said in a trembling voice. As Ozie prepared to leave, he added one last thing. Vincent mate, I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor.
Rich is better, but it doesn’t make you a better person. How you treat people when you think they can’t do anything for you, that’s who you really are. Maria courageously asked. Mr. Osborne, would you mind if I asked for a photo? Ozie said warmly. Of course, love, but let’s get Vincent in there, too.
This is his learning moment. Vincent was surprised. You want me in the photo? After how I treated you? Ozie replied firmly. That’s exactly why, mate. Everyone deserves a second chance. After the photo was taken, Ozie looked at his watch. Now I better get home before Sharon wonders where I’ve been. She’s got a sixth sense about my shopping trips, he said, laughing.
Hiroshi said respectfully. Please give my regards to Mrs. Osborne. Ozie replied. We<unk>ll do, mate. She’ll get a kick out of this story. Jake asked curiously. Are you going to tell her you spent4 million on accident? Oussie thought for a moment. Son, you obviously don’t know Sharon Osborne.
She’ll find out before I get home. Everyone burst into laughter. Walking toward the door. Ozie turned around one last time. The store was now a completely different place. Vincent’s arrogant air had been replaced by genuine curiosity. Maria was confidently talking to customers. Jake was still in shock. And Hiroshi was on the phone telling the story to his friends in Tokyo.
“Remember folks,” said Aussie, that familiar stage authority in his voice, “we’re all just people trying to get through life. Some of us just have fancier clothes while we’re doing it.” And as he walked out the door, he left behind not just a broken watch, but changed lives. Vincent established a new rule in his store from that day forward.
Treat everyone like they might be Aussie Osborne. The broken watch pieces were indeed framed and hung on the wall with the inscription, “The day we learned appearances deceive.” Maria was promoted that same week and put in charge of customer service. The most surprising development happened that evening when Aussie got home and told Sharon what had happened.
Sharon was first shocked, then laughed. Aussie Osborne, only you could accidentally break a 3 $2 million watch and turn it into a life lesson, she said. But Sharon didn’t stop there. That evening, she sent Vincent a special card. Thank you for treating my husband fairly in the end. Second chances matter. We all make mistakes, but not everyone learns from them.
Sharon Osborne. A week later, this incident became Beverly Hills most famous story. Other luxury store owners began modeling Vincent’s new approach. and Aussie. He still walks around in his old t-shirts, but now everyone in Beverly Hills recognizes him. And more importantly, they treat everyone like they would treat Aussie.
Because appearances can deceive, but character never does. And sometimes the biggest lessons come from the most expensive mistakes.
QQ4 Bob Dylan and Keith Richards have been close friends for nearly 40 years. The friendship began on a live television program in November of 1986 in the 11 seconds after Bob Dylan called Keith Richards music derivative on camera. Keith Richard’s response to that assessment, one sentence said without anger, without performance, with the specific directness of a man who has nothing to prove and knows it made Bob Dylan laugh.
Then made Bob Dylan go quiet. then made Bob Dylan say two words that people who know Bob Dylan say he almost never said to anyone. This is the story of those 11 seconds and the 40 years that followed them. The program was a live music interview special broadcast on an American network on the evening of November 3rd, 1986. The format was simple.
Two musicians, a host, an hour of conversation about music and the state of it. The producers had assembled the pairing of Bob Dylan and Keith Richards with the specific calculation of television producers who understand that two people with equally strong and potentially incompatible views about what music is and what it should do will produce better television than two people who agree about everything.
The calculation was correct, though not in the way the producers had anticipated. Bob Dylan was 45 years old in November of 1986. Bob Dylan had released Empire Burlesque the previous year and had been on the road for most of the intervening period as part of the True Confessions tour with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
Bob Dylan was in November of 1986 in one of the most prolific and restless phases of a career that had consisted almost entirely of prolific and restless phases. A career that had moved through folk, rock, country, gospel, and back again, that had been declared finished at least six times by the music press, and at each time continued with the serene indifference of a river to the opinions of people standing on its banks.
Bob Dylan had been redefining what music could be. Since 1962, Bob Dylan had invented and reinvented himself so many times that reinvention had become his defining characteristic, not in the superficial sense of a performer changing costumes, but in the deeper sense of a musician who had never allowed his work to settle into a form that could be anticipated or categorized from the outside.
Bob Dylan understood influence and originality and the relationship between them better than almost anyone alive in 1986. Bob Dylan had spent 24 years thinking carefully and specifically about where music came from and where music was going and what it meant that those two things were always in constant conversation with each other.
Keith Richards was 42 years old in November of 1986. Keith Richards had been playing guitar professionally since 1962. Keith Richards had built a career on a foundation of American blues and rhythm and blues. A foundation that Keith Richards had studied with the systematic devotion of someone who understood that the tradition he was building on was not incidental to the music he was making, but essential to it.
that you could not understand what Keith Richards did without understanding where Keith Richards had come from and what Keith Richards had been listening to since he was a teenager in Dartford with American Import Records and a secondhand guitar and no teacher except the recordings themselves. Keith Richards had never pretended otherwise. Keith Richards had in fact spent considerable energy across his career making the lineage explicit, naming the artists, citing the recordings, insisting on the acknowledgement of influence that the mainstream music
industry had a long history of suppressing or ignoring or crediting to the wrong people. If anything, Keith Richards was more transparent about his sources than most musicians of his generation. Keith Richards had always said openly that the Rolling Stones came directly from the blues, that Muddy Waters and Robert Johnson and the specific tradition of the Mississippi Delta were not background influences, but foundational ones.
The music Keith Richards made was in direct and sustained conversation with that tradition, something Keith Richards considered not a limitation, but a responsibility and a form of respect. The interview had been running for 8 minutes when the host asked Bob Dylan about the current state of rock and roll.
Bob Dylan answered with the density and the indirection that characterized Bob Dylan’s responses to direct questions, turning the question over, approaching it from an unexpected angle, finding his way to what he actually thought through a series of observations that moved like a river rather than a road. Bob Dylan was not a straightforward interview subject.
Bob Dylan had been asked about rock and roll in hundreds of interviews across 24 years and had developed the habit of treating the question as an invitation to think out loud rather than a request for a prepared position. The producer Gerald Sherman said afterward that in the first 8 minutes of the interview, he had been slightly anxious, not because anything was going wrong, but because nothing was going anywhere in particular yet.
The interview had the feeling of two conversations happening simultaneously. Bob Dylan’s internal one and the external one visible to the cameras. And Gerald Sherman was not certain in those first eight minutes that the two conversations would converge into something. Bob Dylan talked about influence. Bob Dylan talked about originality.
Bob Dylan talked about the difference between music that absorbed a tradition and transformed it and music that absorbed a tradition and reproduced it. And then Bob Dylan made his assessment. And then Bob Dylan said with the precision of a man making a musical assessment rather than a personal judgment that the Rolling Stones work, and Bob Dylan was specific, naming Keith Richards as the guitarist whose approach he was discussing was derivative in a way that Bob Dylan found limiting.
Bob Dylan said it without hostility. Bob Dylan said it as a technical observation about the relationship between source material and the work that came from it. Bob Dylan said that Keith Richards played the blues the way the blues had already been played, rather than using the blues as a starting point for something that had not yet been played.
Keith Richards had been listening to this with the specific attention Keith Richards gave to things being said about music by people who knew music. Keith Richards did not interrupt. Keith Richards did not shift in his chair or display any of the visible signals of a person preparing a defensive response. Keith Richards listened to Bob Dylan’s complete observation all the way to its conclusion without interrupting and without displaying any visible signal of preparing a response.
Then Keith Richards said one sentence. The sentence was not a rebuttal. The sentence did not defend Keith Richards music or argue for its originality or challenge Bob Dylan’s characterization of what the blues meant in the context of rock and roll. The sentence was something else entirely, something that required a specific kind of confidence to say.
The confidence of a person who has spent long enough thinking about the same things as the person they are talking to that they can locate the exact point where their thinking diverges and say something useful about that point rather than simply defending their own position. The sentence acknowledged everything Bob Dylan had said, the assessment, the distinction Bob Dylan was drawing, the specific musical concern underlying the observation, and then turned it 90°.
Keith Richards took Bob Dylan’s own framework, the one Bob Dylan had used to analyze Keith Richards relationship to the blues tradition, and applied it back to Bob Dylan’s work with the same precision Bob Dylan had used to apply it to Keith Richards. Spare aimed. The sentence asked Bob Dylan something about Bob Dylan’s own music, about the relationship between Bob Dylan’s sources and Bob Dylan’s output that Bob Dylan had not been asked on television before.
The sentence did not attack. The sentence illuminated. Bob Dylan laughed. The laugh was not the polite laugh of someone responding to a joke. The laugh was the involuntary laugh of someone who has been genuinely surprised. The specific kind of surprise that a person of exceptional intelligence experiences when someone else’s intelligence exceeds their expectations.
Bob Dylan laughed for 4 seconds. Then Bob Dylan stopped laughing. Then Bob Dylan was quiet for 3 seconds in the way that Bob Dylan was quiet when Bob Dylan was thinking rather than performing thought. Then Bob Dylan said, “You’re right.” The producer in the booth, a man named Gerald Sherman, who had been working in television for 14 years, said afterward that in 14 years of live television production, he had never heard Bob Dylan say those two words in a public forum.
Gerald Sherman said he had worked with Bob Dylan on two previous occasions and had observed Bob Dylan in numerous other contexts and that you’re right was not a phrase that Bob Dylan deployed easily or often because Bob Dylan had spent 24 years being right about music in ways that other people eventually caught up with. And the experience of being right ahead of everyone else does not generally produce a man who says you’re right readily when someone else makes a point.
The host of the program, a journalist named Patricia Wells, who had been interviewing musicians for 12 years, said afterward that the 11 seconds between Bob Dylan’s assessment and Bob Dylan saying, “You’re right,” were the most extraordinary 11 seconds of television she had been present for. Patricia Wells said that what she witnessed in those 11 seconds was not a debate or a confrontation or a celebrity exchange of competing opinions.
Patricia Wells said what she witnessed was one musician recognizing another musician as an equal, which was in the specific context of Bob Dylan in 1986, not something that happened in public very often. The interview continued for another 42 minutes after those 11 seconds. The conversation between Bob Dylan and Keith Richards in the remaining 42 minutes was described by everyone who watched it as fundamentally different from the first 8 minutes.
The host, Patricia Wells, who had been conducting music interviews for 12 years and understood the difference between the performance of conversation and actual conversation, said that at approximately the 9-minute mark, something shifted in the studio. That the formal interview, architecture dissolved, and what replaced it was something less structured and more genuine.
Bob Dylan and Keith Richards talked about influence and originality and the blues and what it meant to build on a tradition without being consumed by it. They talked about specific recordings and specific musicians with the specificity of two people who had spent their entire adult lives thinking about these things and rarely found another person who had thought about them with equivalent care.
They talked about where music came from and where music was going and whether those two questions were actually one question or two. Patricia Wells said afterward that she had asked approximately four questions in the remaining 42 minutes because Bob Dylan and Keith Richards did not require questions. They required only a room and a camera and the shared understanding that what they were saying together was worth recording carefully.
She said it was the best interview she had ever conducted and that she had conducted the smallest part of it. After the program, Bob Dylan and Keith Richards were in the corridor outside the studio when the host Patricia Wells passed them. Patricia Wells said she did not stop because she did not want to interrupt.
She observed them for approximately 30 seconds from a distance. She said they were talking with the ease of people who had known each other for years rather than people who had met for the first time 2 hours earlier. She said that something had shifted between them during the broadcast that the broadcast had made permanent rather than temporary.
She continued down the corridor and did not look back. She said in her account of that evening that she had decided in that moment not to interrupt the conversation because some conversations are more valuable than any question a journalist might ask and that the conversation she had observed for 30 seconds in the corridor outside the studio was one of them.
She had been a music journalist for 12 years. She recognized the difference. Bob Dylan and Keith Richards have maintained their friendship across four decades. They have appeared together at various events, most significantly at the concert for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995, where people who were present described them as inseparable for most of the evening, occupying the same corner of the backstage area and talking with the concentrated attention of people who only have a limited amount of time together and intend to use it
well. Bob Dylan has spoken about Keith Richards in interviews with the specific thoughtful care that Bob Dylan reserves for musicians whose work Bob Dylan considers genuinely important rather than merely culturally prominent. Keith Richards has spoken about Bob Dylan in similar terms with the specific respect of someone who recognizes in another person a commitment to music that goes deeper than career.
Neither Bob Dylan nor Keith Richards has made a public statement specifically about how the friendship began or about the November 1986 interview. Bob Dylan has not mentioned the 11 seconds. Keith Richards has not mentioned the sentence. The interview exists in the archive. The 11 seconds are there. The laugh is there. The two words are there.
What is also there for anyone who watches the interview from its beginning and pays attention to the shift that happens at the 9-minute mark is the specific moment when two people who thought they were appearing on a television program discovered they were actually talking to each other. What Keith Richards said in that one sentence has never been officially reported.
The people who were in the studio that evening, Gerald Sherman, Patricia Wells, the floor crew, the two camera operators, the makeup artist who was watching from the side of the set, have described the sentence in consistent terms. They have described its effect. They have described Bob Dylan’s laugh and Bob Dylan’s silence and Bob Dylan’s two words.
They have not repeated the sentence itself in the specific understanding that the sentence was said between two musicians on a television program and that its power resided in the specific context of that exchange and would not survive removal from it intact. What can be said is this. Keith Richards said something to Bob Dylan about Bob Dylan’s music that used Bob Dylan’s own observation about Keith Richards as its starting point and arrived somewhere that Bob Dylan had not anticipated.
Keith Richards turned Bob Dylan’s assessment 90° and showed Bob Dylan something about the music they had both spent their lives making that Bob Dylan recognized immediately as true. And Bob Dylan said, “You’re right.” Two words said by Bob Dylan in public on live television in 1986 to Keith Richards in response to a single sentence Keith Richards had said about music.
Two words that Gerald Sherman, who had worked with Bob Dylan on two previous occasions, said he had never heard Bob Dylan say in a public forum. Two words that Patricia Wells, who had been interviewing musicians for 12 years, said were the most significant two words she had heard in those 12 years. Not because of their content, but because of who said them and what it cost to say them and what it meant that Keith Richards had produced them in 11 seconds from a conversation that began with Bob Dylan calling Keith Richards’s music derivative. And Keith Richards and
Bob Dylan have been close friends for nearly 40 years. The sentence did its work in 11 seconds on the evening of November 3rd, 1986. The work has been ongoing ever since. If this story moved you, subscribe and leave a comment below. Have you ever said something to someone that turned a potential disagreement into an unexpected and lasting connection? Tell us about it in the comments below.
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