John Mellencamp and Bed-Head

So there he was: John Mellencamp, in the flesh, about 10 feet away from me, at the Copley Square Farmers Market. I knew he'd be there. I had come to see him. But, I must admit, my imagination isn't usually so far off from the reality...

Imagination: A grizzled, blue-jeaned everyman, hands calloused from working the rich Midwestern soil, guitar slung over his back. Laugh lines. Salt-and-pepper hair. Working the rope line, saying howdy. Singing a song or two for the assembled fans.

Reality: Blue jeans, check. But also fancy sunglasses, dyed hair, and maybe even a dusting of pancake makeup to hide some of the wrinkles? A man who looks like he works 'til midnight every day, rarely sees the sun, and barely woke up in time to make a 1:30 news conference. The few smiles were more like reluctant tugs on his mouth, except when he stepped forward to joke about his bed-head hairdo. No guitar, no off-the-cuff renditions.

He was affable enough, though he seemed a bit dazed when it was his turn to speak. Mansfield? Comcast Center? That's where Farm Aid is, right?

But, you know what? I'll cut him a helluva lot of slack. Here was one of the guys who launched the movement to preserve family farms, which has morphed into a movement to eat locally. Here was a really talented songwriter and performer, who has sustained a music career for more than 30 years (including, we were reminded, a new album out today). One of my favorite musicians, and someone I find just a little more intriguing because his appearance said glitz, while his behavior said regular guy.