ramblin

Watched Ramblin' Jack Elliott last night, a documentary made and filmed by his daughter Aiyana Elliott. It's good and I'd recommend it to anyone who has an interest in folk music, documentaries or father-daughter stories. He learned from Woody Guthrie and other folks greats, was a huge hit in Europe, influenced Bob Dylan but he recorded only a few albums and never felt like he'd achieved much until Clinton presented him with a medal.

Jack's a good example of a man who can't be tamed. The guy spent most of his life on the road, working rodeos and playing music. He had four wives, some of whom tried to tame him, some of whom merely tried to get him to be more organized, and all failed. It seemed, especially toward the end of the film, that his daughter experienced the same frustration. She kept asking him for time, time to sit and talk and have a conversation. Ramblin' Jack Elliott doesn't have conversations, though, he tells stories. Great stories, weird stories, rambling stories. It's easy to say because I'm not his daughter, but I think Aiyana should have been content to capture his essence, his stories, because she can never capture him.