The other night I got the indescribable pleasure of seeing my biggest idol: Robert Allen Zimerman. That's code for Bob Dylan, suckers.

The two men sitting next to me even offered to buy me a Bud Light. I don't know what that has to do with anything.

His voice was about two octaves lower than it used to be and he only played a few older songs. But I stood on my chair as soon as I heard him playing Ballad of a Thin Man. At the part of the song where he says, "Thanks for the loan" someone threw underwear on the stage.

And better yet. . . I touched his tour bus.