Sunday night, I saw a Beatle. My favorite Beatle. IN THE FLESH.
Granted, from where we were sitting, he was a beetle-sized Beatle, but I came face to massive-jumbo-tron-sized face with Sir Paul McCartney. We were breathing the same stale, humid, city air for OVER THREE HOURS. I’ll never wash these lungs again.
Paul McCartney at Wrigley Field. Oh yes, it was as epic as you’re imagining.
Yes, even though we were that far away, it was still awesome.
And while I wasn’t spastically shrieking and pulling on my hair like the girl sitting in front of us (that’s so 1964…), I did freak out a little bit internally. Which is pretty much the only way I ever freak out. (No, you can’t read my poker face!)
I really can only describe it this way: Anticipation. Lights! Paul! Crowd roaring. Waving. Guitar playing. Hello, Goodbye! Jimmy Hendrix and Eric Clapton storytelling. Paperback Wriiiiiterrrr (wriiiiterrr…wriiiiterrr…). Sweating. Piano playing. Maybe I’m Amazed. Live and Let Die. Explosions! Fireworks! Hey Jude! Encore #1! Encore #2! Thank you, Chicago! AND… I’m spent.
Not to rekindle those “Paul is dead” rumors, but I’m not entirely convinced that the Paul McCartney we saw onstage was not a genetically engineered clone or an impressive illusion created by light and mirrors. (Also, this website is mildly convincing.) Otherwise, this guy turned 45 and immediately stopped aging. No way he’s in his late 60’s. He spent three hours playing various instruments and screaming into a microphone on a humid, 90-degree night and the man did not take a single break. Or a drink of water. EVER.
Upon fruitlessly searching for an IV line trailing from his arm, we became concerned that we might witness the dehydration and subsequent death of a superstar.
But who were we kidding? He’s Paul Mc-freakin-Cartney. He doesn’t NEED water. He gets his strength purely from the sheer force of his rock-and-roll legendary-ness that leaves others gaping in its wake. And pot.
And just in case you’re not convinced that it was kick-ass concert, check out the Hey Jude awesomeness below.
All hail Sir Paul!