not a leg to stand on…
I remember reading somewhere, vaguely, that Bob Dylan once attempted to make a go of it peddling bespoke wooden legs.
Handcrafted prostheses, to be more precise.
Is there even a splinter of truth in it, does anybody know ? Or is the tale entirely apocryphal ?
I admire the idea of it, the screwball absurdity of the very thought; the monocular attention to detail.
Had Dylan not gone stellar on the back of a purloined, well-timed lyric or two, I can envision our sage hobbling into such a entepreneurial cul-de-sac. Squirreled away; ornately skulking in the sawdust of his folly.
Had Zimmerman not come over all electric, we might have had prosthetic:
A rabid mob on pogo sticks on the fringe of a motorcycle accident. Baying for blood as the carpenter hops in the wings, knock-knock-knockin\’ and chalking on his board.
▼ BOB DYLAN: MOTORPSYCHO NITEMARE from \”Another Side Of Bob Dylan\” LP (Columbia) 1964 (US)