Earlier this year, I’d heard Paul McCartney was coming to play Dallas.
Now. You probably don’t know this about me but I am a classic rock lover. My husband teases me because I listen to the classic rock station (he calls if fossil rock). I’ve listened to Bo and Jim in the morning since their Q102 days (any locals remember that station?). They’ve been on the air 20+ years, to give you some history.
My big sister had these Beatles greatest hits album on a double LP – that’s vinyl, for all you young bucks who don’t remember The Time Before CDs and Digital. I used to listen to them OVER and OVER. A Beatles fan was born. This was probably in the late 80s. I lamented that I’d missed the best musical era ever (the 60s). When CDs became the norm, I bought every Beatles album. I had McCartney CDs from his solo career and Wings. I’ve been a fan for a long, long time.
SO. I would suffice it to say the Beatles are my favorite classic rock band and Paul is definitely my favorite.
Anyway… when I found out he was coming to Dallas, I salivated at the chance to get tickets. I was buying them no matter what. They went on sale and I was on the phone with Ticketmaster. I ended up with two nosebleed seats for a small chunk of change but I knew it would be TOTALLY worth it. The concert was scheduled for mid-June on a Monday night.
The date approached. And about a week before, he announced he was too sick to make it and was canceling the Dallas date. I nearly cried. Okay, not really, but I was pretty sad. However, it was rescheduled to October 13.
Okay. I can deal with that. I love October. It’s my favorite month of the year. Cooler weather, fall decorating, the arrival of hockey and football.
The weekend before the concert, the husband and I decided it was time to rip up the nasty carpet and replace it with laminate. That is a post for another day. We were worn out come Monday with sore muscles. But I was going to that concert and dragging him with me.
I think he didn’t know what to expect. We arrived early (DUH – because I can’t be late ANYWHERE) and found our seats way up in the top.
Two things then happened.
One: Husband and I are chatting and this long-haired guy and his 10 year old kid come down our row. There were probably six seats to my right and then the aisle. So they’re looking at their tickets and the dude says to me, “Are you in the wrong seats?” I looked at him, all deadpan, and said, “NO.” Like “NO you idiot I know how to read.” They look at their tickets again, realized they are one section over and left.
Two: About 5 minutes after that, several other guys come down the row. Now, the seats are tight so you have to stand up to let people by. (Sidebar: why do they put the seats so darn close together? And then you have feet behind your head and guys who want to prop their leg on their knee and their foot is like 2 inches from the person’s head in front of them. Pet Peeve.) One guy gets by me to the other side. There is some situation with people in the wrong seats (REALLY? How do you not know where you’re sitting? I don’t get it). Second guy standing next to me starts to wobble. Did I mention he’s hold a full to the brim beer? The beer sloshes over the side of his cup and spills all over the floor and the empty seat next to me. I glared at him. He says, “Sorry.” He smelled strongly of beer even before he spilled it. So now the floor is sticky under my feet. They finally figure out the seating issue and sit down.
After that everyone calmed down and enjoyed the show. Even the bar ho at the front of the section who never sat down the entire time and always had a full beer in one hand and her iPhone doing selfies and taking videos in the other. And the silver-haired biker dude on the other side of the section who was ROCKIN’ out. He was great.
And the man himself…I really don’t know how to describe it. Being there, watching him perform, I couldn’t help but think I was witnessing a living rock icon. He paid tribute to his friends, John Lennon and George Harrison. He played Something on a ukulele because Harrison had an affinity for it. He played the same Les Paul he played when he wrote Sgt. Pepper’s. There were so many small moments that made the entire night a magical experience. And the pyrotechnics on Live and Let Die were pretty awesome too.
My husband asked me after the concert why I liked him so much. It’s not because Paul is everyone’s favorite. It’s not because he sang “Michelle” (okay maybe a little ;)). It’s because I have always admired him. He stuck by Linda when she was sick. He’s always been humble and seemed rather down to earth.
I don’t know if he’ll come around to my hometown again, but if he does, I will DEFINITELY be buying tickets.
Do you have a concert memory that is unforgettable? Share in the comments!