But only a lucky few get to experience the sublime rush of mass adulation found in the spotlight.

When one of these demigods cradles a flashy guitar and shakes his hips at the front row, the fans always scream.

Until they realize he's just a roadie checking the sound.

For most of us, whether cheering in the audience or sitting behind a desk tuned to a favorite radio station, becoming a rock star is just not going to happen.

But the lifestyle of a rock star is not necessarily out of reach. Just ask a roadie. Sometimes it takes years of planning and hard work and sometimes it's just a matter of being in the right place at the right time.

A roadie will tell you everyone is entitled to his 15 minutes of fame.

Life on the road, he will tell you, is not only a unique and unforgettable experience -- it is a dream that is completely attainable.

Brotherly love

Ryan Matlock got his start as a roadie with an Erie hardcore band called Brother's Keeper.

Like many hardcore bands, Brother's Keeper's popularity grew by forming a sense of community with fans of the genre and other similar bands on the scene in Erie.

"Hardcore bands who are good enough to break out of their smaller local scenes often do so by hooking up with other hardcore bands," Matlock (senior-media studies and political science) said, "and even, in many cases, by sharing equipment and traveling together to keep costs down."

Matlock dealt heavily with the marketing and promotional aspects of roadwork in his two years of sporadic traveling with the band. For him, this meant managerial work for a band as it fought to establish itself with a larger audience. Matlock coordinated directions to and from gigs, shipped merchandise and contacted promoters a few weeks before each show to confirm the dates.

He basically looked after the band's best interests.

"A lot of promoters have no qualms about ripping off the musicians if ticket sales aren't up to par with their expectations," he said. "And it's the roadies who've got to watch out for trick contracts and this kind of stuff -- it's the shady and scary side of the business."

Matlock said all-ages shows don't pay very well, so he often had to make sure there were enough T-shirts sold each night to pay for gas to get to the next show.

And don't forget the map work. Touring with Brother's Keeper meant accompanying the band to Vancouver, Seattle, New Mexico, Florida and back up the East Coast, traveling through almost every contiguous state in the union.

Matlock said the pace was hectic -- the band performed almost every night and drove almost every day.

But that doesn't mean there wasn't time for some good old fun on the road.

"We were able to enjoy a few days off in San Francisco and watch the sun set on the coast," he said. "What more could you ask for?"

Freelance roadie

Many roadies work with one band and get to travel with it wherever it goes.

But Andrew Otter (senior-landscape contracting) got his start by taking a job with a marketing corporation that gave him the experience he needed to rent himself out and do freelance roadwork for other companies.

"It's all under the table," he said, "so I can't comment much more on that without getting audited or something."

Otter offered his services for such acts as Busta Rhymes and The Pharcyde on the 1997 Smokin' Grooves tour and also worked Ozzfest '97. This meant not only setting up gear and moving equipment, but tuning guitars, setting up instruments and doing some fun promotional work like handing out backstage passes to the more attractive women in the audience.

"Your morals are kind of worked upon," he admitted, "but there's certainly a lot there to take advantage of."

And why not? According to Otter, the stars sure do.

"It's a completely different world," Otter said, "and it's amazing how many people kiss their asses -- they really get first-class treatment wherever they go."

Otter said it's hard work to get a foot in the door of this industry, but he did have a few suggestions.

"If you get in at a large arena, say the (CoreStates) Spectrum or The Bryce Jordan Center, they're looking to hire anyone to help move stuff around and then it's up to you to meet the tour managers or promoters or even the band," he said.

Otter still is doing freelance roadie work. He said he began working with one of his current employers by responding to a newspaper ad just over two years ago.

Now he gets to schmooze with band members and get a first-hand taste of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle.

"Chilling out and smoking with Pharcyde has to be one of the high points," he said. "You have to remember most bands are more willing to meet people than you might think.

"You've just got to have the balls to approach them."

Elliott Selzer (sophomore-public relations) said working with Rhode Island-based fusion outfit Foxtrot Zulu was almost like an internship experience for him.

"It's right in my major since I was dealing mostly with the promotional aspect of things," Selzer said.

In fact, Selzer said he has friends who have earned internship credit at University of Rhode Island just for working with the band.

But don't expect roadwork to be a completely academic experience.

Selzer told of one trip across the Canadian border when the band was held up for more than two hours filling out working papers.

"The only people that were working at the border seemed to be these young, attractive women between (the ages) 18 and 24," Selzer said.

"Well, being from that background, some of the guys like to kick a little game," Selzer said, "so we gave (the women) backstage passes for the show that night.

"The rest of the story you'd have to censor -- but it was an interesting night."

Stories of debauchery, strange trips and wild nights make the music industry very appealing to many people. But it's not all fun and games. As the only person on the road who doesn't play an instrument, Selzer says a roadie will get stuck with a lot of work.

"It's basically lugging equipment around, getting stuff for the band, getting the different guitars ready -- not being in the band means you're doing a lot of grunt work," he said.

Selzer got his start with the band through drummer Jeff Roberge, an old family friend. Selzer considers himself fortunate to have been around from the beginning of the ride, but he insists luck is not the only way to get a start.

"If you see a band moving its equipment, ask if they need any help, introduce yourself, don't be afraid of them. Most bands are happy to meet people.

"Especially if you're willing to help out."

Getting a new 'Boss'

When Bruce Springsteen got his start with The E-Street Band, Late Night With Conan O'Brien drummer Max Weinberg was right there. He played with the Boss from the mid-'70s through the '80s.

That's why longtime Springsteen fan John Zelezen (sophomore-business finance) was ecstatic when he discovered his father's new law firm partner's wife just happened to be Weinberg's sister.

"I got to meet Max at a picnic for my dad's firm," Zelezen said, "and when I told him I was a big fan of the Boss he asked me if I had any experience with moving heavy objects or construction."

Zelezen said he told a little white lie.

" 'Yeah, I've got experience,' " he said, "but I didn't tell him it was with pool construction."

After tour plans were solidified for this coming summer, Zelezen's father made the final arrangements and now the Penn State student is getting ready to embark on a great adventure -- without the slightest idea of what he's getting himself into.

"Since I'm jumping in without any experience, God knows what I'll learn (on tour) and how it will benefit me," he said, "but I'm going into it without any preconceived ideas of what to expect and I think that's the best way to learn."

Zelezen expects to help set up for 30 or 40 large-scale arena shows by helping build backdrops and lugging around a lot of heavy speakers.

"I've got to admit I've had dreams about getting up on stage and singing with Bruce," he said, "but I don't know what to expect other than starting when the tour reaches the U.S. in June."

Zelezen insists he's going in with no long-term expectations, but he doesn't deny the possibility the tour could open up some potentially big doors of opportunity for him in the future.

"Right now, the sky's the limit," he said. "The sky's the limit."

Planning is everything

The story of Jeff Mitzak is a little different because he is not a roadie. In fact, he has never worked for a band in any capacity, nor does he wish to.

But there are other ways to travel with and even meet band members, which Mitzak accomplished in traveling to seven consecutive tour dates with the Dave Matthews Band this past summer.

"Planning is everything," Mitzak (freshman-finance and international business) said.

The plan went into action after Mitzak and a few friends graduated from high school and decided to embark on one leg of the band's tour.

"We were just a bunch of friends getting tickets through Ticketmaster. One of my good friends has this uncanny knack for getting through the lines and getting tickets," Mitzak said, "so after that it was just a matter of getting in the car and going."

Mitzak said they kept within a day's drive of their homes in New Jersey for reasons both economical and practical.

But he said that didn't take anything away from the road experience.

"The concerts are great," Mitzak said, "but it was meeting people before the shows and in the parking lots that was my favorite part."

Their travels took the group to the Meadowlands Arena in East Rutherford, N.J., Hershey and two shows in both Philadelphia and Camden.

But the trip climaxed in meeting Dave Matthews Band bassist Stefan Lessard and drummer Carter Beauford in Foxboro, Mass. For Mitzak, the experience was the result of a little luck and the all-important connection.

"I work at a private golf course in the summer and one of the gentlemen there works for a company that has a share of the ownership at Foxboro," he said, "so it was all about connections."

The lesson: if you want to get in with the band, cultivate those connections.