“I like my heroes to be alive,” she told me. “I like them to grow old.” I, too, admire my idols more for the lines on their faces, for the bumps and bruises, the cuts and scar tissue. Every year that goes by that I have Bob Dylan in my life, I admire him more. And although she’s a lot younger, same goes for Chrissie Hynde. Now we’ve lost Johnny Cash, Frank Sinatra, Aretha Franklin, and B. B. King, but not before we discovered them discovering their older selves.
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