But on a night like tonight at the West Seattle Street Festival — when some old acquaintance asks me to retell an old story from those days — there is one I always come back to, and one that I never tire of telling. When I retold that story earlier tonight at the Rocksport Bar and Grill for the hundredth time, I realized that I had never actually written it down for the world to read.

So here it is. The night I went to the Hollywood record release party for Mick Jagger's solo album Wandering Spirit, produced by my boss at the time Rick Rubin.

When I got the invite, I was of course absolutely thrilled. But I was also warned. As the new kid on the block from Seattle, I was told in no uncertain terms that there would be no "gushing" over Sir Mick allowed at this party.

No big deal, I thought to myself. By this time, I had already rubbed shoulders with rock stars ranging from Rod Stewart to Bruce Springsteen as part of my music experiences in Seattle — and I even counted a few of them among my friends. Sir Mix-A-Lot certainly so, but also guys I'd come to know as occasional drinking buddies like Soundgarden's Kim Thayil.

Like I said, no big deal. But hold the freaking boat. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come on this night.

When I arrived at the house located high in the Hollywood Hills, I was met by a diminutive lady holding a flashlight who checked to see if I was on the guest list. Shining her light onto the clipboard she held, I said that my name was Glen Boyd and that I should be on Rick Rubin's list of guests. Once she checked my name and waved me in, she flashed me an inviting smile and said "have a nice time."

Once I was inside this nice lady's world, I had no idea of what I was in store for. Standing in a line for drinks at the bar set up outside, a voice behind me asked "who do I have to blow to get a drink here?"

When I turned and realized it was Cindy Crawford, my immediate reaction was to offer up myself. Wisely, I kept that particular thought in my pants. When leaving one of the outside bathrooms set up on the lawn I bumped into none other than Jack Nicholson — wearing a rumpled looking suit and clutching a drink in one hand and a joint in the other — I resisted the urge to ask him about his role in Easy Rider. Which was probably a smart decision, considering the beefy looking bodyguard he had shadowing him.