I want to be Paul Westerberg. I live in Minnesota and I don't use a comb, so I figure I've got the first two steps covered. But where do I go from there? I've been listening to a bunch of Replacements lately, and that always makes me feel like I missed something. When I listen to their records, I get the impression that in the mid-80s, the Twin Cities was The Most Happening Place In The Whole World. Paul Westerberg was running around, as were the Suburbs and Hüsker Dü, plus Soul Asylum back when they were still called Loud Fast Rules. Why did I have to miss that? The local bands I have today aren't like that! They are not legendary for their drunkenness and fun. I don't even know if we have any top local bands anymore. We used to have so many!
I would love to have lived in a world where I could say, "Oh, The Replacements are playing tomorrow. But if I can't make it, they're playing Sunday too." Do the Twin Cities residents who had that experience realize how lucky they were? Do they appreciate the magnitude of the fact that they used to be able to see the Replacements just about any time they wanted? Those early Replacements albums are such a good time. They just scream, "A friend of a friend told me that there is a party over south, here's the address." Those records make me certain that anyone could have had Paul sleeping over on their couch, provided they had enough beer.
A Paul sighting is still an event, at least in my world, but I just don't think it's the same anymore. Now it's stuff like, "I hear sometimes you can see him in the 7th Street Entry, crouched in the back, drinking a Sharps." As if Paul is just a ghost, haunting his old haunts. Is he there listening? Is he there remembering? Is this story even true? It doesn't matter. It adds to the legend of Paul. But that particular story dates from the mid 1990s. A more current (well, late 90s) kind of report is like the one that a friend of Jeff J.'s brother once had. "I saw Paul Westerberg at the tobacco shop on 50th. He was driving a Volvo." That is a far cry from Paul's dive bar days.
So I would like very much to be the new Paul Westerberg. I still don't know where to start though. I do know that I want Dragon sightings to cause a stir, and I want my very own table at my own dive bar. (Local legend states that Paul used to have his own table at his dive bar.) Wait a minute...I don't really hang out at a dive bar, but I do have a watering hole that I favor. And I (with the LCG, of course) do have a table at said watering hole. My sightings don't create a buzz exactly, but I can't go to a rock show without running into at least ten people I know, and they seem fairly pleased to see me. Bitchen people, like the Metal Cowboy, the Metal Hipster, and CEB. And of course I see my beloved Local Cool Guy, provided we didn't go to the show together in the first place. And all of those bitchen guys are frequently abuzz with the latest Rocksnobs news. Maybe that means I get to be Paul Junior! That would rule!
And wait another minute...one time the LCG and I almost got security called on us at the main rock club of Paul's era (by our friend the bartender, no less) because we were having a really loud fight. That's pretty Paul of me. (The fight, by the way, was about whether or not I would be attending Wrestlemania. Only LCG and I could escalate that topic into a bouncer-worthy battle.) And...I do have an unnatural number of friends who are musicians, or work in music related fields. And when I don't have anything to do, I can live the Here Comes A Regular lifestyle. I know I can go to my watering hole and eventually see two or three people I know and like. (So, really, Here Comes A Regular, in a less depressing version.) Maybe I am the new Paul Westerberg after all! Wait a minute...should it be that easy? I don't think so. There has to be more to it than that. Maybe I'll go think about it some more as I'm not combing my hair.