We told you he was coming. We showed you persistent fans in ticket lines. We did a quick history of his life and times, and we took you to the excitement of the first of his two performances at the University of Maine.

Now we’re going to tell you what we really thought of Bob Dylan in concert.

And we promise that this is the last of it.

The Bob Dylan blitz has come to an end.

Was it worth it, having this 1960s icon grace our fair area?

You bet.

Before the concert, we heard horror stories about Dylan’s behavior. He might be rude. He might be standoffish. He has gotten a little weird. He’s a has-been. He won’t play the guitar. His voice is shot. (Excuse us on that last one, but where have YOU been?)

We didn’t care about any of that. We wanted simply to see what Dylan was up to these days, now that he’s 54, now that he’s accepted as one of the most notable pop figures of this century, and now that he can do whatever he wants — which includes not touring.

Turns out Dylan is in good shape. Great shape, actually. For nearly two hours, he played songs that put a generation on its toes 30 years ago and, Monday night, brought a whole bunch of new generations to their feet at the Maine Center for the Arts.

The catalog of music represented Dylan the political thinker (“Masters of War”), the balladeer (“Just Like a Woman”), the blues man (“Tombstone Blues”), the rocker (“Seven Days”), the folkie (“It Ain’t Me, Babe”), and the philosopher (“Mr. Tambourine Man”).

Dylan also paid tribute to the late Jerry Garcia with “Silvio” and “Alabama Getaway.”

In an apparently uncharacteristic move, Dylan was pleasant, appreciative, sharp. He played either acoustic or electric guitar throughout most of the concert. He played harmonica, too, and his voice was as remarkable as ever. Although he didn’t speak to the audience except to say, “Thanks, everybody,” his warmth came through in smiles. At the end, he even slapped a few hands as he left stage after the second of three encores.

We’d even go so far as to say Dylan was thoughtful and good-humored by playing “Rainy Day Women.” Its refrain of “Everybody must get stoned” was particularly rousing to this predominantly college-age crowd.

Dylan certainly was the centerpiece of the event, but the backup band, including a wailing Winston Wilson on drums, Bucky Baxter on guitar and mandolin, John Jackson on lead guitar and Tony Garnier on bass, gave a top-notch improvisational jam session. There was nothing washed-up about the musicianship of this group. It was stellar.

The same could not be said for British-invasion wannabe, Aimee Mann, who opened for Dylan. Mann is a guitarist-songwriter known for her bass playing with the Boston pop group ‘Til Tuesday and a 1995 hit from the “Melrose Place” soundtrack album. She sings quirky love songs with her mezzo-soprano, which sometimes slips into breathy tones and was a perfect complement to her acoustic guitar playing. Mann was less interesting when she was accompanied by her unleashed three-man band.

But even Aimee Mann knew that the night was about Dylan.

We’re glad he came. We’re glad we saw him. We’re glad he can still conquer. And we won’t say any more about it.