One thing you always knew while standing in the crowd at a Paul Weller concert was the very moment you saw Papa John, as our little group would affectionately call him, appear at the side of the stage to take his customary viewing spot that the show was about to begin. It became a game amongst my tight knit group of friends that I have been attending Paul Weller concerts with since we first saw Paul live back in 1991. It always seemed like the first of us to say, "Fellas, Papa John" and point out the silver haired patriarch was the winner of some prize of respect only known to us. I was lucky enough to meet Papa John in New York City way back in November of 1992. Paul had performed a blistering little set at Tower Records earlier that day and was doing a gig at Irving Plaza. On this particular trip our normal crew of four was limited to my brother Mike and myself as the various commitments from the other members, Ryan and Dave K., kept them from attending. Mike and I arrived ...