"Bob Dylan is the father of my country"

- Bruce Springsteen/May 2011

The father turns 70 today.

I've seen Dylan only a handful of times, and never when he was anywhere near his peak. The last time, at the Smith Center in Chapel Hill, N.C., was a roughshod affair, with a disinterested Bob rambling through a 70-minute set. I've been told that most of his shows in later years have been hit-or-miss affairs, with the pop outs outweighing the home runs.

No matter.

His monumental presence hovers over a great deal of the best music of the 20th century. But I have to say it took me a long time to get what it was all about.

Oh, like everyone else I knew and loved "Like a Rolling Stone," "Blowin' in the Wind" and a few others, but it was two occurences that steered me straight into the direction of the Immortal Bard.

One was a Newsweek cover proclaiming "Dylan's Back!" that Dave Sprout had on his bedroom wall that heralded the reunion tour with The Band in '74. Because that image was on a teenage boy's wall, rather than a Raquel Welch poster, meant something, and I had to find out what it was.

The second was the release of "Blood on the Tracks" the following year, as fine and essential as any album released in my lifetime. It sounds fresh and inspirational to this day, and what can you say about "Tangled Up in Blue" that hasn't been said?

Yeah, it's great, and Dylan has a whole suitcase full of 'em. You forget how stunning and pervasive they are, until you hear one you haven't heard for a while. And it slaps you upside the head with brilliance.

Take "Every Grain of Sand," for instance, which recently came on my ipod for the first time in many months.

And I said to myself, "Jesus." I meant that literally and figuratively.

William Blake with a harmonica and a hymn for the end of the century that shows a faith for the ages. And a beauty that stays with you long after the fade.

Dylan's like that.

Happy Birthday and here's to a Happy Bobfest to us all.

Strictly 100: Number 25: Bob Dylan