“What’s that? A mineral water? Coming right up. Say, don’t I know you? Wow! You’re my favorite artist. I’ve followed your career all my life. And to think that you, of all people, just walked into my bar. Gosh, I can’t wait to tell my friends. They’ll never believe me.

“Now, I know you ordered a mineral water, but wouldn’t you rather have a beer, instead? On the house. Got your favorite brand right here. It’s the least I can do for someone whose music I’ve enjoyed all my life.

“What’s that? Just the water? But I just tapped the keg this morning. It’s nice and fresh. Heck, I’ll just pour you a pint and sit it down right in front of you. There you go. Doesn’t that look good? It’s there for when you want it. Boy, this is more exciting than when Moby and Eminem walked in my bar last month. Hey, is it true you were the one who helped Keith and Mick trash their very first hotel room back in the ’60s?

“What’s that? Don’t remember? It doesn’t surprise me. You were the party king! I used to read about you in Rolling Stone. You know, back when it was a music magazine? Hey, remember the time at that hotel in Seattle where you could fish from the balcony of your hotel room? You know, when you showed Robert Plant what to do with the mudshark he had just caught? Boy, I don’t believe I’m talking to you. Hey, I know. How would you like a shot of Chivas? It’s your favorite.

“What? Not today? Well, okay, I’ll just put it down on the bar next to your beer. You know, in case you change your mind. Actually, I can’t blame you for not remembering everything. I figured you’ve lost more than a few brain cells along the way. And I’ll bet you don’t remember that time you and the Eagles stuffed Bill Graham in a barrel and then threw him off of the Golden Gate Bridge. Or that time you and Yanni stole all that dynamite from a roadie and blew up Fresno. Or that time you had to go to Switzerland to have an emergency bile transfusion. Boy, those were great times. You were the rock star’s rock star.

“Yeah, I know. You don’t remember. But that’s what us fans are for, right? To chronicle your every waking moment. Sure, I have other favorites, like ZZ Top and Dave Matthews Band, but you’re my main man. Say, you haven’t touched that beer and shot of Chivas I poured for you. Go ahead, there’s more where that came from. Or maybe you’d like some vodka. Here, I’ll just put this down next to the Chivas and –

“Wow! You really sucked that down. What’s that? More whiskey? Sure. It’s the least I can for someone like you. Here, take the entire bottle. Yes, I watched your entire career. From the time you made your first demo record to backstage at this year’s Grammys where you drank a gallon of Zima, punched out Cher and then asked Hilary Rosen of the RIAA to be the mother of your child. You were a riot. Yeah, you are my favorite all time rock star. I love ya, man. I know everything about you.

“Including the fact that you just checked out of the Betty Ford Clinic, oh, about 90 minutes ago.

“Say, you wanna another beer?”