The lazy heat of summer, by chance, has brought me together this year two great and special classics for good or bad luck. One, Bob Dylan, is a long time, but he continues to create songs, edit albums and perform concerts when he has been behind him for 74 years (a load on the margin, as warned us by the other cupel-ventral genius who died at the same age). Since the 17-year-old mocoso who wrote the eternal Blowing in the Wind (Haizean dilindan) has written hundreds of great songs, and there are hardly anyone who has ever worked on the musical genre at some point. However, at the concert he offered on July 11 in Donostia-San Sebastian, most of the songs were from no one, not his. After all, his latest album, Shadows in the night (Itzalak gau), is also composed of songs that are not his own and, of course, it is about promoting that album.

With the help of five great musicians, Dylan’s performance was very close to perfection. Perfection, however, among the more than 4,000 listeners we met in the bullring of Ilunbe, I don't think a galante room would come home. It's not me, at least. The comments of various media outlets in the coming days also clearly showed the contradiction, as the concert to which no one should like was truly rewarding. But it's Dylan Dylan, and it can't be clearly said that the concert was bad.

Dylan's performance on the Zurriola beach was disgusting, especially with Mikel Laboa. On this occasion it has not reached that level of pasotism, but I would like to know if I knew where I was singing, for all the time it had behaved as if I had no listener in front of me. At first, without hello or hello (and, of course, did not say hello) he started singing without a melancholy tone, and the same he did during the rest and the end. It is not the only star to which fame has been drawn, but this attitude is more understandable in a case like Julio Iglesias than in Dylan, whose subjects have as protagonists the losers of society.

Despite that divism to which more than one has alluded, Dylan's selection of songs for his last tour has given me a lot to think about. I'm a Dylan fan, and I'd like to stay there as well after the Donostia concert. But to do so he had to justify the conduct of the idol.

In the work of money laundering, I have had the help of another much more classic classic, the inexhaustible Jorge Luis Borges, which ceased to be a long time. As for the classics, the Argentine writer says that the classics are not books written in a special way, but books that we read in a special way. Classics are books that we read with admiration. The attitude of the readers, not the writing, makes them classic.

For my part, I confess that I went to Dylan's concert in that position. If it wasn't for Dylan, I don't think I would have stayed until the end. Being the author of a lot of such beautiful songs, and knowing that we are fans of her for her songs, why choose it?

Borges whispered to me the only answer that could save Dylan. Speaking of his literary work, Borges says in a moment: “I will try not to plagiarize myself because it is much better to plagiarize someone than to plagiarize oneself.”

Angry, I'll still be passionate about Dylan.