CLUB SANDWICH 67

standing there. The tray's on the bed but he's not leaving 'cos he's holding the bill you have to sign (and tip him). He's giving it that 'Is OK, I wait' bit. You're dead; you can't put down the phone 'cos if you do you can sign (and tip). You're dead in the water; there's no way he's not going to get that note.
            You worry about waking up. You do. Here in Europe we're flying out early the next day after a show. Tuesday: Austria. Wednesday: Germany. The call for your bags is coming at 7.00am. Gotta get up, pack, shave, wash, brush teeth. By 7.00am. And you can never find the deodorant. It is an unrealised law of physics that deodorant moves. It does. Deodorant is mobile. You always put it in your hotel bathroom. On the shelf next to the razors. And it moves. When you need it most, sweating as you are as you scramble to pack four cases before 7.00am, it knows it and it hides. Don't ask me how, but it does.
            So why do you do it?, I hear you ask. Why haul yourself 7600 miles around Europe in 57 days, learning to live with less and less sleep?
            I'll tell you why. It's the buzz of watching Him crack it. It's the magic of seeing Paul letting the crowds realise that glee is good. Glee is allowed. You may think that is obvious but it's not. There are certain countries around Europe where enjoying yourself at rock and roll shows is verboten. It's true. Bands come from all over the world to play in these halles and the audiences sit down. They sit down because it's the rule. No Standing. Verboten. Standing Raus.
            I hate rules. Can't stand the horrible little things. Unfortunately, certain countries live by them, and to please the men who make them the audience sits down. However, unfortunately for the rule-makers, four years and 200,000 miles of travelling ago, a former Liverpool schoolboy told me 'The thing about rock and roll is that it breaks all the rules'.
            So we're in Vienna. It's very clean, Vienna; people don't drop litter in the street. It's the rule. And they're very nice, the Viennese; very polite. You say 'no' to their requests and mostly they listen. It's a rule.
            Paul hadn't played here since 1976 and the city was humming with excitement over the two sold-out Stadthalle shows. The coming of the tour is front-page news in the local Zeitung. The TV news is babbling continually about der Grosse star and it's Paul McCartney Day on the radio.
            At 8.12 pm, Paul walks on stage. Huge cheering all round, smiles everywhere. He waves, they cheer.