They like him for the simplest of reasons: One of them said to me, 'Because he's funny,'

Bob Dylan at 60 is the same as Bob Dylan at 16. He's a loner, ... He's secretive. He's a man who's very funny, witty and playful, and at the same time he's very serious and traditional. And at the same time he has this flare for being unorthodox and iconoclastic and wayward. But he always was.

And he's really the last one that's still around,

It's generally popular with the public to think of Bob Dylan as the '60s folk hero,

I don't like grim filth. I like funny filth.

The Puffer Fish: Wherein the author flaunts his vocabulary.

His father was IRA and his mother was Quebecois, and they had reliquished their mortal coils in the internecine conflagration that ended their conjoined separatist movement, IRA-Q. The appellation he was given by his progenitors was Ray O'Vaque ("Like the battery," he'd elucidate, with an adamantine stare that proscribed any mirth). In his years of incarceration, however, he had earned the sobriquet "Uncle Milty" for his piscine amatory habits.
He had been emancipated from the penitentiary for three weeks, and now his restless peregrinations had conveyed him to this liminal place, seeking compurgation in the permafrost of the hyperborean tundra, which was an apt analogue of the permafrost in his heart. He insinuated himself into the caravansary with nugatory expectations, which were confirmed by the exiguous provisions for comfort. But then the bartender looked up from laving the begrimed bar, his eyes growing luminous as he ejactulated, "Milt!