It was the 10th of November, 1982, and Joe Jackson was playing at the U of A Main Auditorium (the same place I saw the B52s earlier that year). I don't know why, but for some reason I was in the area by myself that night, probably using the U of A library for some paper for school, and I remembered that he was playing, and I really liked Joe Jackson (and still do). Oddly, I ran into my friend Lenny Mello, a notorious Tucson punk rocker known for his safety-pin-festooned face and tall "liberty spikes" mohawk. A lot of people thought Lenny was a bit much to deal with, but I liked him.
I mentioned to him that Joe Jackson was probably just starting at the auditorium, and he said, to my surprise, "Let's go! I like him!" I pointed out to him that the show had probably already started, and we didn't have tickets. "Oh, I know how to get in there," he said with a shrug, "C'mon!". And before I knew it, we were tumbling through a window into the basement bathrooms of the auditorium. Shortly we made our way up a couple of staircases and into the main part of the building, effortlessly moving through the lobby and into the show.
And, wow, Joe Jackson was just amazing, sitting at the piano with a small combo. And the whole time I'm thinking, "Does Lenny really like this?" It was funny to see him nodding his mohawked head to the kinda Cole Porter stuff Joe Jackson was doing.
But this was Jackson at the top of his game. I don't know how anybody couldn't have been impressed with that performance. Lenny loved it, but was a little embarrassed: "Not really my kind of thing... but damn." Really.