I live in NYC. On that morning I was getting ready for work. I had the television on as I stepped into the shower, a re-run of the Maury Povich Show where you had to guess who amongst the guests were born women and who were transvestites. When I got out of the shower, the tv was showing a burning World Trade Center tower. I called a friend and asked if we knew anyone working at the WTC, he said yes, and why, and I told him to turn on his tv. What channel? he asked. Doesn't matter, I told him. Thankfully of the three people we knew working in the Towers at that time, one was on vacation, one had a dentist's appointment, and the third had slept through her alarm and was running late for work. Sadly, someone else who didn't work at the Towers was at a breakfast event at Windows on the World and we lost her that day. I never went to work; I ended up at the gym running mile after mile on a treadmill while watching major equipment and refrigerated cars being trucked down Broadway to ground zero. I pretended I was running to the Towers to warn people. I couldn't stop running.
I've BEEN to a Bob Dylan concert, and you're right. At some point one of my friends turned to the rest of us and said, "Do you guys realize this is supposed to be Lay Lady Lay?"