The Rolling Stones at 50: The Minister of Culture's three backstage Heinekens with Mick and Keef in NYC

This Sunday, The Plain Dealer Sunday Arts section will celebrate the Rolling Stones' 50 years in show business with stories from friends and readers sharing their most memorable encounters with the Rolling Stones.
Here's mine: In 1980 I was profiling poet-rocker Jim Carroll for People magazine. He was the acclaimed author of "The Basketball Diaries," which chronicled his life as a 13-year-old-junkie in New York City. He was reinventing himself as a rock star and had a new album out called "Catholic Boy."
Carroll, who died in 2009 at age 60 from a heart attack, was the underground "it" boy of 1980. He was friends with punk-rocker Patti Smith and William Burroughs -- who is still considered junkie royalty. Carroll was that rarest of creatures, a literary rock star. Everybody wanted to be his friend, including Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.
I just wanted to be friends with Mick and Keith. Or at least have a drink with them.
Anyway, the album party for "Catholic Boy" was being held at a club called the Bottom Line in Greenwich Village. The Jim Carroll Band was going to be joined by various special guests, including Mick and Keith, because Stones sax man Bobby Keys played on the record. It was a hot-ticket party, and I was on Carroll's guest list.
The band played a great set with Mick and Keith. It was extremely cool to hear those guys in the confines of a small club. The band ended with a couple of Stones songs. The place was rocking. During one of the encore songs, one member of the Carroll band would run off the stage and down a long gangplank that led to the dressing rooms in the back. A roadie was at the end of the runway handing out towels to the departing musicians.
I thought this might be a good opportunity to get backstage. I was, after all, officially profiling Carroll. I was at work. I jumped up on the runway and ran for the dressing room. The roadie, not paying attention, handed me a towel, which I draped over my head, and I went backstage. There was quite a spread back there. Not just a deli tray, but also a giant tub of iced Heinekens. I grabbed two, popped one open and sat down with the towel over my head.
Pretty soon, the dressing room was full of band members and friends. Everyone was congratulating each other. I was hanging backstage with Mick and Keith and Patti Smith. It might have been the coolest 20 minutes of my life. It was a great time until some astute security person said, "Hey, wait a minute . . . you're not supposed to be back here."
I smiled. Helped myself to a third Heineken. Then I let myself out.
Mission accomplished.