My obsession with Bob Dylan began in May 2005, when my family spent a week in St. Thomas, U. S. Virgin Islands. During this time, I read Chronicles, Volume One, and became intrigued by the man.

His music had been in the background most of my life, starting with "Blowin' In the Wind," which I remember singing at summer camp in the early '60s. But, I'd never really paid close attention, and, as I was soon to learn, it is in the intimate encounter that his work truly has meaning.

That summer, my husband and I attended his concert in St. Paul, at the baseball stadium. We had walked out of one of his concerts at the Minnesota State Fair in August 1990, but this time I did not want to leave. I do understand those who walk out, but now I know what they are missing by not making the effort to listen and learn.

In the last four years, I have collected and listened to all of his legal CDs and DVDs, and some bootlegs. My iPod is filled with his songs, my car is loaded with his CDs, and I rarely want to listen to any other music. I get to as many of his concerts as I can, and this year my husband (not a big Dylan fan; he prefers Frank Sinatra) and I took a road trip to Milwaukee, St. Louis, and South Bend to see 3 of his concerts. I'm still hoping he'll come to Minnesota before the year is over.

I have read more than 30 books about him, subscribed to XM to listen to Theme Time Radio (which has taught me so much about the roots of American music), and have been to Dylan Days in Hibbing each of the last 4 years. After checking my email and Facebook each morning, the first place I go is expectingrain.com. I continue to be intrigued by who he is and what he has to say.

Now that he has captured my attention, we will be Together for Life, even if he has no clue that I'm here.