CALGARY - A Canadian beer company couldn't have planned it better. A Friday night on the first long weekend of the summer with the hottest rock band of our time on the last day of their current tour -- everything was aligned for an evening that would get the party started on the right and righteous note.

The only thing that might have made Labatt or Molson shy away was the fact the only way to differentiate the 14,000 or so strong from those at a Wiggles show was by the tattoos, the smell of weed and number of F-bombs dropped.

In fact, just prior to Green Day taking the stage, a family-friendly pink rabbit showed up and hopped fuzzily around the stage. And then he started to guzzle some beer.

Ah, Green Day -- brilliantly walking the line between juvenile punk idiocy and fully-formed rock star supremacy. Last night when they took the stage the California punk pop act proved themselves the pertinent and entertaining arena rock roadshow on the go.

They retained the immaturity which propelled them to fame a decade ago with their major label debut Dookie.

While at the same time, displaying enough of the maturity that made their latest six-million-selling, Grammy-winning release American Idiot so special.

It was an impressive feat and one that should ensure last night's show wasn't only the first show of the summer, but probably the best.

Vocalist Billie Joe Armstrong, bassist Mike Dirnt and drummer Tre Cool -- joined by an extra guitarist and horn players -- opened the two-hour concert with the title track from their latest release and then delivered the album's most mature anchor, the 10-minute Jesus of Suburbia.

The trio then dipped back and forth between the dumbness and intelligence for which we now know them.

With Armstrong faux masturbating one minute and then railing against George W. Bush the next -- or mixing the old material like Basket Case with the new such as Wake Me Up When September Ends -- there was something for brows both high and low.

And adding to the enjoyment was the fact Green Day didn't just seem to be having fun -- they were having a bloody ball.

Whether it was stopping the show for a riff-off featuring snippets of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden, bringing up a fan to super soak the first few rows, performing a version of the Animal House anthem Shout or merely bouncing infront of pyrotechnic firebursts, it seemed as special and as spontaneous to them as it did the sold-out crowd who stood, cheered, moshed and Bic flicked along to everything they did.

You could excuse many in the crowd last night for mistaking openers My Chemical Romance as a local act.

They have, in recent months, seemingly played this city more often than Curious George or Pistol Noon -- and they are set to return in just over a month's time for the Vans Warped Tour.

But the American act proved familiarity can breed something other than contempt by putting on a raucous, gloriously-sloppy, mascara-punk opening set that rose above its sonic limitations.

Despite weak, muffled, vocally-inhibited sound that could very well have been run through a junior-high school intercom system, they managed to transcend the 15-deep moshpit with an entertaining mixture of energy, pyro, lights and confetti.

It was actually good enough that I'm sure most would be more than proud to claim My Chemical Romance as our own.