“If you’re travelin’ in the North Country fair,
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline.
Remember me to one who lives there,
For she once was a true love of mine.”
In 1993, I went to court for a crime I didn’t commit. That’s because I was on the jury. (See what I did there? I made you think one thing and then I … oh, never mind.)
I wasn’t surprised to find myself called up for jury service. It was my second year on the dole, so it made sense to make me useful – and I was the cheap option too, as they only had to pay my train fare. I was surprised I got picked for actual service though. Who’d want the shoegazing raggedy indie kid wearing the trench coat in the middle of a Spring heatwave? Well, it turned out the accused did as he looked exactly the same as me. Grrr …
I don’t think I’m allowed to write much about those two days I spent at Guildford Crown Court. Other than that at one point it looked like we were going to be re-enacting ‘Twelve Angry Men’, but I’m no Henry Fonda so we all got home in time for ‘Neighbours’. I can tell you what I did in my lunch hours though, and that was buy Bob Dylan albums from the HMV up the high street. I’d only just started listening to Dylan and ‘Girl From The North Country’ was the first song of his to make me a fan. It’s still my very favourite, for its beautifully poignant lyrics. You can’t hear this song and not yearn for someone who’s left your life. Seventeen years on, I still think of the same person. I’ll let you know if that changes.
(Turns out there's very litte Dylan on Spotify and I could only track down this version for you - as much as I love both Dylan and Cash, this really pales in comparison to the original.)