Some Guy's Got A Great Story To Tell At The Water Cooler Monday Morning

Imagine this. Paul Westerberg Friday night at 9:30 Club. It's a late show - it's rounding 1:00 AM and he has been playing a solid 2 hours now and slowly disintegrating into mayhem. A Paul Westerberg show is alway unpredictable and always entertaining to say the least. So Paul decides to lay down. In a fetal position behind the drum set. While the band is still playing.

What would you do if you were front and center? Go up on stage is what you would do! Grab the mic and sing your heart out until the bouncers throw you out in the rain. Was it worth it? Those 10 seconds of American-Idol-karaoke-minutes-of-fame-blah-di-blah. Hell, yeah! Because the band decides to call you back. Seems Paul decides he's going to stay behind the drumset. He is on his back now with a guitar strapped to him. So the band asks you to step in and play the part of rock star. For two songs! You do air guitar. You sing the wrong lyrics in delirium. You hand the mic over to some people in the front row to help you sing along. You plead for Paul to return because this is just surreal, man.

Some people in the audience don't like you. Some are probably jealous. Some think they could sing better than you. Some didn't pay $30 to hear No-Name-Joe-Schmo sing some of the more popular 'Mats songs.

It was a show teetering on the edge of insanity and sheer brilliance. And that is a fine line. It was rock and roll. Pure and unassuming.

The disintegration of the last half hour in a 2 hours and 40 minutes set exemplified the genius that is Paul Westerberg. The 8 minutes singing on a stage shared with Westerberg & Co. epitomized a Guy Named Andrew's best rock and roll fantasy.