For the last 50-plus years, I have been blessed to be surrounded by people who enjoy music.

There are as many types of music as there are people.

Maybe even more.

During a backstage interview with a Tulsa disc jockey in the ‘70s, Willie Nelson was asked what type of music he played. Keep in mind that this was over 30 years ago. This was the time when Willie and Waylon and the boys were being labeled by country music traditionalists as renegade rockers playing country rock.

How dare those boys grow long hair and wear faded jeans on stage!

Willie’s reply to the interviewer was almost as short and sweet as he is.

“My grandmother used to say that there are two kinds of music, good and bad. I think I play good.”

Several billion records later, it is 2006 and Willie is still playing and singing good music. Willie’s grandma was right.

For years, many of my closest friends and I have shared our musical faves with each other, via phone, cassette or vinyl.

My radio pal Daiwa Don used to call it “prandying” when we’d be near a record player with a stack of our latest 33 1/3 record albums.

Don would play a song. I would play a song. Back and forth like a tennis match, volleying beats per minute instead of tennis balls, until the wee hours, introducing each other to new music.

My college frat brother Lee introduced me to Willie’s songwriting and singing when Lee was working for Faron Young’s Music City News in Nashville.

My law school roomie Gene turned me on to the incredible voice of Jonathan Edwards and the haunting harmonies of a group called The Eagles when we were taking study breaks from the rigors of jurisprudential activities in San Diego.

Bobby P. and Broadway Bill shared those first notes of Sweet Home Chicago, the live version by David Bromberg, and my new world of blues music began.

Of course, I have my parents to thank for opening my ears to the wonder of Benny Goodman, Perry Como, Doris Day, Arthur Rubinstein and Nat King Cole.

My sister Linda can be thanked for sharing Poco, The Flying Burritos and Pure Prairie League when she was in her first year of teaching in Culpeper, Va.

Last month, here on Whidbey, the internationally known surfing journalist Drew Kampion stopped by the caboose with Bob Dylan’s latest, “Modern Times.”

It would not have been prudent for me to tell Drew that I have never put a nickel in the jukebox to hear Bob sing. Or a dime. Or a quarter.

Do they still have jukeboxes with 45s?

In fact, I never thought Bob Dylan was a singer, but a great songwriter who also sang his songs.

Like Burt Bacharach does, but without the chicks.

Dylan’s songfest of classics would fill several storage lockers for most fans, but his latest album is actually worth trying if you are not yet a Bobhead.

A Bobhead Bobblehead Night at Safeco Field would be fun.

Like most Dylan music, his new album merits printing out the lyrics from the Internet sites like www.azlyrics.com. The CD lyrics are available, but, for me, too small to read.

Why do I need to read the lyrics? Because I can try to understand Dylan, but it is easier to print out the lyrics and mumble along with him.

My favorite song on his latest is entitled — “The Levee’s Gonna Break.”

I could enter a jitterbug contest with this one. A real two-steppin’, toe-tapper.

Check out a stanza or two of these excerpted lyrics and imagine a tune with a rhythm about the tempo of Woody Herman’s “Woodchopper’s Ball.”

If it keep on raining, the levee’s gonna break

If it keep on raining, the levee’s gonna break

Everybody saying this is a day only the Lord could make

For me, music is only as good as my mood at the time that I am listening to it.

Music comforts. Music excites. Music stimulates. Music heals.

And today, I am actually listening to Bob Dylan and enjoying him.

Such would not be the case for Ulysses S. Grant if he were alive.

Reportedly, President Grant had no appreciation for music, finding it hard when he was obliged as president to attend concerts.

After one such occasion someone asked him if he had enjoyed the evening.

“How could I?” was the response.

“I know only two tunes; one of them is ‘Yankee Doodle’ and the other one isn’t.”

Don’t you know that President Grant would enjoy the Rod & Gun Club, no matter what music was playing?

I’d buy Grant’s first round and play Perry singing “Round and Round.”

That’s Como, not Commodore.