The excellent post about Paul Westerberg clones over at Armagideon Time reminded me of perhaps one of the stupidest things I've done. I had gone to see The Replacements at the National Guard Armory in Nashville. I rode up with a gang of punkers who spent most of their time on the way up to the show and while waiting in line to get in huffing various inhalers. No straight edge for them. I kept my nose to myself and split from them when I saw some other people I knew. Athens, GA band Dreams So Real opened and they were so boring I almost fell asleep. I split for the bathroom as soon as they were done so I wouldn't miss a second of the Place Mats show. Creem magazine had been raving about the Pleased To Meet Me tour and I was up for some "Hello Dolly" and "What's Your Name" alongside the band's own great catalog of hits.
I took care of my business and as I headed out in walks Paul Westerberg in a godawful plaid suit with what looked like clown shoes on his feet. He'd obviously had a few. So like a super doofus fanboy I went back in the bathroom and waited for him to finish his own business at a urinal. He turned around to go out only to face me blabbering, hey you're Paul Westerberg. He looked at me with obvious disdain and mumbled something as he stepped around me. Hell, I was creeping myself out so I didn't ask for his autograph or follow him down the hall like a puppy dog. I just went back to the audience and enjoyed an awesome show glad I at least had the decency to let the man take a leak before I gave him the awestruck stupid fan treatment.
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