“Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window,
For her I feel so afraid,
On her twenty-second birthday,
She already is an old maid,
To her, death is quite romantic.”

Well Bob never sang about his own birthday, but perhaps he might now he’s gone past 70. C .P. Lee, who knows more about Dylan than even Dylan himself, recalls the great days of the bard of beat in Manchester and the local folk scene, even if Dylan’s bootleggers confused the Free Trade Hall with the Royal Albert Hall.