The road to Macca

Text at 1:41 p.m.: Have a Daily Show ticket for you if you can make it.

The kicker was 1.) I would have to leave the house in 15 minutes and 2.) I had to work the evening. But... it wasn't any garden-variety episode of Jon Stewart's Comedy Central program. Paul McCartney was going to be on the show. So how could I not do everything in my power to make it?

Despite the fact that I hadn't showered (apologies to anyone in my immediate radius), five minutes later, I texted "Ok I'm coming."

That wasn't the end of the adventure either. Had to be at the studio at 4:30 p.m. Now, it might not seem so difficult to get from North Brunswick to New York City in two-and-a-half hours. For me, it meant a bus, a train, a subway and then some power walking with my work computer on my back.

But it was Paul McCartney! So I was going to give it my best shot, even if I wound up exhausted and weeping against the wall outside the studio as the show went on inside without me.

At first, everything seemed to be going well. But I was on the localest of local NJ transit trains, making every stop -- even the dreaded North Elizabeth. And with one hour to go before the deadline, I was still 15 minutes from the city, the subway wait, the subway ride and the walk.

And then everything starting falling in place. I was first off the car of my train and got to the escalator before the line got so long that movement would stop. I briskly walked to the subway, and I saw a C train pulling in the station. I didn't know whether I had enough money on my MetroCard to pay for the ride, so I was internally praying like mad. I swiped ... and had just enough for that one ride.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I kept repeating as the subway doors closed with me on the inside. The other riders probably thought I was one of those wacky talk-to-yourself people that everyone tries as hard as heck to avoid making eye contact with. I even still had bars on my phone, so I could let my friend and patron, Liam, know how I was progressing.

And so when it came to the walking portion of the program, I was way ahead of the schedule. I actually got to the designated area 15 minutes early. Even got to visit the little girls' room AND eat some of Liam's tater tots (I also hadn't eaten yet that day) before it was time to get on the show line.

The Daily Show setup is quite different from David Letterman and others. Liam had scored VIP tickets, which were behind the couple of dozen with wristbands and ahead of a majority of the audience. After security, we were ushered into a room with the wristband people. When they went ahead, we started making assumptions about what that priority level entitled them to, was Stewart firing up the grill and fulfilling steak orders?

Then we segued into a discussion about Ellen DeGeneres' talk show (remember that, because it becomes important again later). And because rain started falling outside, Stewart's peeps picked up the pace and started bringing us in for seating. Another difference with his program, rather than just filing in, people are put together in groups in different sections. Liam's group of four wound up in the first row in the left section.

We got a lot of instructions about what NOT to do, before we were trained in the art of making noise. As The Daily Show goes au natural, and doesn't add laugh track or applause, it was all up to us. The warmup comedian, whose name also happens to be Paul for easy remembering, was abrasively funny and got a lot of assistance from the audience, who came prepared with material and even projected their questions and comments strongly.

Stewart came out next and took some questions as well. He admitted he didn't have time to get worked up about having the Beatle on his show, because he just didn't have time to do so. Weirdest Hanukkah gift he ever got or gave? "Nazi memorabilia." I still don't know if that was giving or getting, but either way, a very strange answer indeed. From the journalists sitting in the first row of the left section, no questions emanated.

The show started with a segment about Congress called "The Grand Budget-Passed Hotel." As my favorite movie of the year -- with all due apologies to the wondrous Birdman -- was The Grand Budapest Hotel, so I was on board right away.

And then next up was the this-is-so-absurd-it-has-to-be-true segment about South Dakota's aborted "Don't Jerk and Drive" campaign. Senior correspondent Aasif Mandvi was hysterical during this bit, and to tell the truth, his green-screen performance on the right side of the stage (but obviously out of Stewart's camera shot) was the only thing I saw clearly for the majority of the show with a camera swinging in front of us and a director or other personnel blocking the view when the camera wasn't there.

But it was a blast. The material was hilarious. I hadn't seen the show since the early years, and now I plan to tune in a lot more. It went so quickly too. There weren't retakes or stoppages, even when Stewart flubbed a line.

And then finally, THE man. It was Paul McCartney. As we were on our feet hooting our hearts out, I did see him pretty well when he came out and gave us some air bass licks.

They did a good job of backhandedly promoting "Hope for the Future," the song Sir Paul contributed to the video game Destiny! The great Macca admitted he doesn't fare well when playing video games, getting blown up pretty much as soon as he takes the controls.

But McCartney admitted he got some cred with his grandkids by being involved in the game, which is now apparently where it's at in terms of musical exposure.

And then Stewart retorted, his own daughter wanted to know why he couldn't do a show ... like Ellen. Liam, Dan Rivkin and I audibly gasped and laughed as our joke was revisited during the show.

"Does she give out CDs and things on holidays?" the former Wings frontman asked. This was almost word for word what I said earlier in the holding tank. Me and Sir Paul. Not just in the same room a couple hundred feet apart, but also on the same exact wavelength.

"You're wishing you were on Ellen too!" Stewart cried.

The segment was over before we knew it, they cut to commercial -- strangely enough they never used a McCartney song of any sort (Beatles, Wings, solo) during the course of the show -- and Stewart was bidding us farewell.

And we were outside with equal swiftness. And trying to put into words the sheer joy of being in the same room with Paul, we call him just "Paul" now that we're simpatico. It was "surreal," it was "once-in-a-lifetime," it was ... well, it was "fab."