Randy would have said he could sing the phonebook.

Paula would have said she loved him for who he is.

Simon would have said he had bad song choices.

All I can say is thank god there was no American Idol back in ‘63 when Dylan started out.

I was late after attending the Grade Six Band concert, which I wouldn’t have missed, even for Dylan. I thought I’d miss the opening act, but curiously there was no opening act. It was just Dylan. For two hours. And what a fine two hours.

He focused on his old old stuff and his new new stuff, a lot of it I’d never heard before. But who cared. It was the Dylan vibe I came for.

His voice was a little growly and rough at first but as the evening went on, it ripened and those slurpy Dylan-vocal peaks and troughs went down a glass of smooth chocolate milk. You couldn’t help but smile and pinch yourself and think: Wow. This is Dylan. Bob Dylan.

A lot of the songs were tinged with a rockabilly groove, which thrilled the percussionist in this typist. He did All Along the Watchtower and Highway 61 and his encore was Like a Rolling Stone. But my faves were the narrative-weaving songs with all their poetry and Dylan vocal stylings.

Dylan played the keyboard for most of the evening, taking the harmonica out for a few brief moments. The band was superb, as you would expect.

I must admit that my expectations of this concert were moderate. Dylan’s voice and mood haven’t always been consistent in the past and you couldn’t predict. But last night, that old rusty instrument of a voice of his delivered the Dylan honesty, integrity and magic.

And I sat up there in the nose-bleed section soaking it all in with the biggest smile in house.