On the evening of March 31, 2026, on the campus of Ball State University in sleepy Muncie, Indiana, I experienced Bob Dylan in concert for the first time. Billed as the Rough and Rowdy Ways World Wide Tour, I was excited to finally see him perform before the 84 year old (or my 76 year old self) passed from the planet. 

As I sat enjoying the experience, I was struck how life seems to go round and round and somehow ends up connecting the dots in ways least expected. Let me explain. 

From 1977 through ‘79, I had the privilege of touring with one of Nashville’s most well known and well respected studio musicians, multi-instrumentalist, and the primo harmonicist in the world, Charlie McCoy. He and his backing band, Barefoot Jerry, taught me what performing on a big stage under the spotlights should look like. They were disciplined, tight, and did their job.  The same was also expected of me from the git-go. 

At the time, I had previously been a working, gig musician since 1969 with two major recording contracts under my belt, but when Charlie asked me to tour with him as his piano player and featured vocalist, well…that was next level. But let me tell you…his band did not welcome a ‘chick’ piano player/singer at all. 

Okay…pretty sure I was also a bit of window dressing, so I needed to prove to the guys that I could do the gig with no excuses, no drama. But if he hadn’t believed I could cut it on the same level, Charlie McCoy would never have hired me in the first place. 

And this ‘lucky break’ was from what I thought was a chance meeting in Nashville in 1976.

I was 26 and about to record my album Almost Persuaded as Sherri (with an ‘i’) King on the United Artists label, when a friendly, completely unassuming man in his thirties popped into the office of my publisher, Gallico Music, to see a friend of his. Because I was also a staff songwriter, I was often in the office during business hours, so someone asked me to play the resident piano and sing a few tunes. As usual, I was happy to comply.

To say I was clueless as to who the unassuming man was who was intently watching me play the piano and sing, was an understatement. Charlie McCoy, both as a friend and mentor, was to impact my life in ways that were unfathomable on that long ago afternoon. 

Shortly after that, Charlie asked me to join his band, and with it came the instant clout afforded musicians in that sphere. I always had a gig at a time when so many other aspiring female artists had to work other jobs just to pay the bills. Thankfully, I never had to ‘pay my dues’ because of what I thought at the time was fate. Maybe it was fate…or just maybe it was set-up by a mutual friend. (Thank you again, Linda Kimball!) 

So, how does Dylan enter the picture? Well…ten years before in 1965, I was 15 and already playing small local gigs in Knoxville. I taught myself to play guitar because it was easy to transport and more dependable than relying on whether a decent piano would be available whenever I was asked to perform. My guitar and a Dylan song…the perfect combo!

By this time, Dylan was white-hot. He had taken the straight forward message from the likes of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger–two greats in the era of folk/protest songs–and amplified it as only Dylan could, then took the whole genre to a level I’m not sure anyone saw coming, leaving everyone else in his dust. 

That same year, Charlie McCoy was visiting his friend, producer Bob Johnston in New York City, when he mentioned he was producing a Dylan session and invited Charlie to attend. At the session, he was surprised to learn that Dylan had one of his albums, Harpoon Man, and invited Charlie to play guitar that day on “Desolation Row.” The 11 minute song was finished in only 2 takes, enough to convince Dylan in part, to later agree to record in Nashville with Charlie as session leader.

Long story short, Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde album, labeled by critics as “a benchmark in American music,” paved the way for folk-rock recording artists to follow using the now legendary musicians that Charlie introduced in that first Nashville session.

Over a decade later, I would also get to know, record with, and even perform with many of those same names. What a world!  

So who is the Bob Dylan of today?

As we know from all of his very public escapades, Dylan was and probably still is, a very flawed character. We may argue with how he progressed musically from era to era–and God knows we perhaps wouldn’t want to be his friend–but as gods go, he was acknowledged and darn near worshipped by many as a genius. His lyrics have been remembered and sung by generations just as enthralled as I was in 1965. 

I firmly believe that Dylan could walk on a stage where the audience is breathlessly waiting to hear the first word sung–just as we were 2 nights ago–mumble a few unintelligible words, and go home. And that’s exactly what he did. And I am here for it!

Except for briefly standing up a few times like he was finally getting his mojo going, he sat middle stage at a keyboard. His band, legendary in their own right, faithfully hung in and anticipated his next song choice as he meandered around on the keys with sometimes jarringly loud, singly struck notes making their way through the sound system, and mumbled almost unintelligibly for over an hour and a half to an adoring audience who cheered each time he made it to a well-recognized portion of one of his tunes. 

But by gosh…it was Dylan! And I waited along with everyone else to hear anything I recognized. 

When he picked up his harmonica, I felt the same, “Wait for it…” as everybody else, and there it was! Dylan played harmonica! Yaaayyyy! (Keep in mind I toured with one of the all-time great harmonica players in the world, Charlie McCoy, so was I impressed by Dylan’s harmonica playing? Not hardly. But it was Dylan! lol)

The one thing I missed–other than hearing one or two songs from the olden days–was seeing that scowling, craggy face in the extremely lowly lit stage. But in the end, that didn’t matter either.

It was Bob g-d Dylan!