I remember riding to Corsi Tree Farm way out in Hamersville, Ohio, in those seats and stretching my short, stubby legs. Today, the ride to Corsi makes me claustrophobic. I can barely move; Dylan’s bony knees clank with mine. Damn Dad’s long-legged McCartney gene. Toys have been swapped out for smartphones, which keep us preoccupied on the long, coiling drive there.