Many, many years ago, when I was quite young and visiting a distant cousin in New Jersey, her strange husband introduced me to his Bob Dylan records. I thought the singing was awful and that Hank was even stranger than my family made him out to be.

A few years later, I was in grade eleven in Cape Breton when I got sick with the mumps and pneumonia. While I was lying in bed delirious, Columbia Record Club sent a copy of Highway 61 to my sister as the selection of the month. I was amazed at the album. I played it over and over.

To those amongst us who would disparage Dylan, I would simply say, get the mumps, get pneumonia, get delirious.