I didn't expect to be as starstruck as I was last night. I had seen the 'Mats before, during the "Don't Tell a Soul" tour, in Albany. About 20 rows back... Last night was absolutely surreal.

After meeting a few people on the way in (all great folks), my wife and I walked into the seating area in front of the stage. There were about 15 people there, and about 200 empty seats. We pulled up two of them, right in front of Paul's Marshall amplifier. The stage was set up with the couch and lounge seats, with a reading lamp and some of Paul's notes scattered on a surface just behind the amp I mentioned. The microphone was no more than 10 feet away from me, and I couldn't understand why I was getting nervous. I was about to be very close to greatness, and I couldn't believe that Paul Westerberg was going to occupy space that close to me. From my high school days of ripped jeans, plaid shirts, and Chuck Taylors, to today,the guy has composed the soundtrack to my life. Don't ask me where "Gary's Got a Boner" fits in, though...

While we sat there, staring at where Paul was going to be, I was distracted by some movement to my right, near a doorway.. I looked over, and there he was, walking towards a blocked off area where we could make out the silhouette of a guy tuning guitars. He was wearing a purple dinner jacket with an oversized, white tuxedo shirt, complete with cuff links (seen later). He had a dark blue vest over the shirt, a striped tie around his bare neck (the shirt was unbuttoned at the top), black tux pants with a satin stripe down each side, his new trademark shades, and his typical mop of a hairdo. Paul looked pretty cool. I only saw him for a split second at that point, but I knew it was him, just by the way he sort of hung his head as he walked behind the stage and out of view. I thought, "Cool.. At least he's here.." The last time I had seen him left me with the idea that he might not show... That was then...

Two good dudes sat next to us. Scott and Steve - Both band members themselves, and serious "Westergeeks", as they put it. Steve was really hoping for a rendition of "Date to Church" (with Tom Waits), but all he was left with was his own by the end of the night, which was a dead-on Tom Waits impression... Maybe at Irving Plaza, Steverino.

Long intro complete...

Paul came onto the stage a little late (around 9:15/20), and said, sort of mumbling, "The last time I was here, Tommy and I stunk up the joint." He shook his head and rolled his eyes, as if recalling the next morning. Beer for breakfast, good to go for the next night. A few of us yelled some uncontrolled verbiage, which I can't remember. Steve yelled "Thank You, Paul!" (before even one note was played).. Paul mumbled, "Why, you're welcome", and looked right in our direction as he did it.. Then he stepped back, and started strumming the opening to "Waiting For Somebody".

The crowd moved forward to the edge of the stage, and Paul didn't budge. The security guys in their very macho, turquoise t-shirts quickly ordered us back to our seats. We shuffled back, but kept standing. I have to say that the opening was a little shaky, but so what? Like I mentioned, we were right in front of the guitar amp, and it kind of drowned out Paul's voice a little at first, and I had to get used to the very live, pure sound that he was making to my aging ears. After the opening number, and a pretty rough rendition of "Mr. Rabbit", Paul walked back towards his roadie, shook his head, and said something that was probably not complimentary. The roadie appeared to be playing catch-up in the minutes before the scheduled start, and was still tuning the Fender at 9pm. Rough doesn't matter to me with Paul, but the guitar work on Mr. Rabbit fell short for him.

I kept thinking of all of the things that he had to cover up there. He had to keep the beat in his head (or keep time with his footsteps), remember the words, sing them, and play multiple guitar parts on one axe. I thought that no matter how rough he sounded, the guy had 'nads of steel, and a ton of class to be doing this for us. It really felt like he was doing us all a big favor. He was obviously tired from the tour, and even fell back onto the couch a couple times for a short breather. After about 10 minutes into things, Paul found his groove.

He called his roadie over, and had the guy help him strip down to just his vest and tie. I think Paul might have gained about 2.4 lbs. since 1989. All muscle, in his fingertips and wrists. He didn't say much, and I think it might have had to do with a rather subdued crowd. New Yorkers like to stand and watch... I was reminded of the 'Mats show in Albany, when a very drunk Paul asked the immobile masses in front of him if they were "..enjoying the movie.." For the record, I was moving, and kicking the seat in front of me while I did. Paul kept his cool, and let us all just stand there and glare at him.

Scott, Steve, and I provided some background vocals from front stage right, most notably a very audible "Hey!" at that critical part of "Valentine", which Paul played beautifully. He played an old Neil Young tune "Don't Cry Near Me", or something like that. I had never heard it before, and Paul played that one with great feeling, too. Oh - My wife cried at the opener, because "Singles" was our first date, and the beginning of her PW fan days.

I don't know why, but I can't remember a lot of the songs he played. I don't know how to explain the experience, since it was my first one like it. Maybe after Northampton I'll have my emotions in check, and I might be able to retain more than the cost of a cup of beer. If Paul saw me in the audience, which I'm sure he did considering my location, he probably saw a guy of 'Mats era age, looking at him like he had zebra stripes, or something. He probably thought to himself , "Ted Bundy". I was in awe of the fact that I was that close to Paul, and to be honest, I didn't know how much this guy meant to me until last night. To see him play those songs (you know - the ones I can't remember) was like rewinding my life back to some pretty carefree days, which existed in the first place, mostly because of his words and music. The fact that I was a kid, able to gro up with tunes like that just makes it all the more special. I sincerely hope that he knows that when he starts to feel low. Seeing Paul so close like that, you can see that those words haven't come cheap. He has "thoughtful" written all over his visage. Thank god... I mean, thank Paul. He deserves happiness and success at least as much as any Goo Goo Doll does.

At one point, Paul fell back onto the couch, and started in with "Skyway" on the 12-string acoustic. I was at the bar at this point, but could see him fumbling with the microphone, which had sort of fallen down onto his face, and was pressing against it. His roadie cleared things up for him, but he had to stop, as the mike was trying to force its way through his cheek. He had a little laugh on that one, as did everyone. Absolute forgiveness, all around - No problem, Paul, whatever you do is fine by us, etc, etc.. The odd thing about the guy is that he doesn't have a bit of swagger to him. He is self-deprecating, humble, and clearly sincere. I'm sure he's sincere when he's losing his temper, too. He only spoke when spoken to, for example, or he mumbled things to himself, which we "might" be able to pick up if we were in the right spot. He wasn't one for eye contact with the crowd, and was always more into the music than anything else.

The security guys seemed a bit anxious to do their thing last night. We had one directly in front of us who kept shaking his head and rolling his eyes when Paul would flub a guitar bit, or forget lyrics... I leaned over to him and politely explained all things Westerberg to him, and he seemd to be more respectful after that. I told him that when he's an old man, someone's going to reference Paul to him as the musical influence that he really is, and the guy is going to brag about how close he stood to him when he was making $10/hr. as a security guard at one of his shows. I didn't actually say that last part to the guy, because he was bigger than me, and I was happy where I was in life, at that time. Regardless, I think the security situation, or maybe Paul's fatigue caused there to be no "couch call". I think it was Paul's call, because I asked the security guy if he would let the four of us up if the call was made, and he said he would. Keep in mind that before the show, I had no intention of getting up there. After 10 minutes, I was ready to put my feet up with PW, and sing background to a B-52s cover if need be.

Paul finally mentioned, "This will be my last song.", sang it, and walked off the stage. Don't ask me what the song was, because I was too disappointed that it was his last song to realize what the hell it was. He came out for an encore, which included "Never Mind"..

We waited for him at his bus after the show, in a line of about 100 or so people. There was a guy behind us who made sure we all knew he was an attorney, yet still a devout Westerberg disciple.. I told him to make sure Paul knows that one of his fans made it through law school listening to "Treament Bound"... I mentioned to those nearest me how cool I thought it was that Paul did the bus thing after his shows.. The attorney guy claimed it was a PR stunt, and not up to Paul.. I think that every person at that show would have been at the show, even if Paul sped away in a black Lanborghini as soon as he hit the last note of his encore. I even second guessed my thoughts on this one as I stood there, but after meeting Paul, I knew this guy was wrong. After all, Paul and Tommy threw food on a bunch of fans from a window of the Palace Theater in '89 after that show, so maybe he's just trying to mend some fences. Hearing that crap was a down point of the night, though. I got tired of hearing guys shout out "Welcome to the Jungle" as a request during the show, too. I got the joke the first time, and I'll bet Paul got it, too. Overall, it was a hard night to taint, though. An incredible experience.

Steve was the first one of us to get to Paul. As soon as it was Steve's turn, Paul got up, and I heard him look at a roadie and say, "I gotta take a leak." So, he disappeared back into the bus for a few, then it was Steve's turn. Steve had a book called "The Superior Person's Book of Words", or something like that, and he wanted Paul to sign it. Steve had mentioned that his girlfriend kind of gives him a hard time about his loyalty to Paul and The 'Mats, and I guess that he mentioned it to Paul at the steps of the bus. Paul addressed a short note to Steve's girlfriend, in the book, and wrote "Leave him alone, dear. Paul Westerberg"... How's that for classic? "Dear"... I love it.

Scott went up, chatted, and had his pic taken with Paul, and then my wife's turn came. She was probably a bit buzzed, as well as feeling sentimental (uh oh), and she hung with Paul for about a solid three minutes, most likely telling him our life story. How we met, how she became a fan, my favorite song, my favorite pudding, etc.. Later, she told me that she relates his music with our relationship, since both occured in her life at the same time. She thanked him for that, and he told her that he had nothing to do with our marriage being good. That was all us, and that the music is just a "coincidence" in the sense that both things make us feel good. He was humbly giving her a chicken/egg philosophy, I guess. I wish I had heard exactly what he'd said. Maybe I can have her tell him to say it again after Northampton, and I'll stand closer...She gave him a hug, and then my turn came.

First of all, any nervousness you might feel goes away as soon as you see him with other people. He's just a regular guy. A regular talented genius guy, I mean. I was still worried that I would say something stupid, or do too much butt-kissing. The first thing I said was, "That was my wife..." He said, "Yeah, I know." I told him that it was an honor to meet him, and that I love everything that "you guys" did... I quickly corrected myself, and said, "I mean, YOU. All of it." (butt-kissing, blurted uncontrollably)

I had him sign my white canvas, Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star high top. While he did it, the pen sort of skipped on him, and he said, "Paul...Murdoch?"... Or a last name other than his own. I can't recall it, because Paul Westerberg was writing on my sneaker, and I was too caught up in the oddity of that to pay attention to words. Paul had a cigar in hand, a T-shirt, and a Minnesota Twins hat on at this point. I told Paul, "Well, that's it for this pair...These get a spot on the wall." I also told him to say hi to his son for us. He said, "I will." I thanked him, and told him we'd see him in Massachusetts.He said, "Oh, good...Good..". We had a picture taken with him, then we left, and all walked around a little dazed and confused for a bit. It was an incredible experience, and I'm glad that we get to do it again in a few days.

I would recommend that anyone remotely resembling a fan go see Paul ASAP. He's getting a little tired, I think (the grass needs cutting), but he really pours it all out for you. The lack of a couch call was only a slight disappointment. Anything much better than what we already had would have been borderline spoiling us. I was a great time, and I'll remember it for the rest of my life. Hopefully some of my memories of it come back to me within the next few years...

An out-of-order, short set list...

Dan Ryan

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