Tomorrow, at around this time, I'll be facing the dilemma of whether or not to wear my Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band t-shirt to the Miami stop on Paul McCartney's Up and Coming Tour. Do I follow the advice of Droz -- that one should never wear the shirt of the band they are going to see? Afterall, I don't want to be that guy. But, in all fairness, I'll be a mere speck to the man on stage...
This can all be sorted out on the morrow I suppose.
The main thing is that I am about to cross a big to-do off of my life's to-do list; I'm going to see a Beatle. And not just any Beatle, but my Beatle (everyone has a favorite, right?). Paul McCartney, the most influential songwriter of any generation, and possessor of natural talent akin to Orpheus (maybe that's laying it on a bit too thick) is going to perform his music live, and I am going to be in the room.
When I was young, before I knew exactly how to work the cassette deck on my dad's stereo, I enlisted his help in making a mix tape. There ended up being some pretty weird stuff on there, considering I was short of 10 at the time (Robin Trower, Jethro Tull and Frank Zappa to name a few), but my favorite songs on the mix were Back in the USSR and Rocky Raccoon. I would play these over and over, until eventually the smell of melting plastic signaled that my mix had had enough.
When I made my next tape, it included Martha My Dear, among other White Album tracks. To this day, it remains my favorite song on any Beatles album, followed by I'm Looking Through You from Rubber Soul (not surprisingly, both are Paul compositions). I'm 25 now, and I still feel the same exhilaration when either of these songs come up on my iPod, and amusingly, I am the one now helping my dad with the stereo.
That reads as a lot less profound than it seems to me. Regardless, tomorrow's a big deal. Only a day before I'm tripping the live fantastic...
52 minutes ago
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