Reflections on the Greatest Day of My LifeI saw Paul McCartney on Saturday, August 15th, 2009. I am going to say a lot of things in this that seem absolutely crazy. But they are honest feelings about what I witnessed over this amazing weekend.
I suppose you could say the greatest day of my life began the day before what was supposed to be the greatest day of my life.
It was Friday, a day before the concert. My friends Alvita, Chelsea and I spent much of the day at the World of Coke museum in downtown Atlanta, and afterward we went to the deli where Chelsea worked, which was right near Piedmont Park (where Paul was going the play) so she could pick up her check. As Alvita and I waited, we headed to the restroom and Alvita saw a girl with a Paul McCartney signature tattoo on her arm. I didn't see the girl initially, but I had just been telling Alvita the day before about a YouTube video I saw of a Paul fan who got to go up on stage and get her arm signed by Paul so she could get it tattooed. Wondering if it was her, I peeked around the corner and Alvita pointed out to me where she was sitting.
It was her.
We debated with each other if we should go say hello to her, but before we could, she was no longer sitting by herself. Besides, we really felt like idiots freaking out over another FAN. If we were like this with a nobody, what the hell were we going to do about Paul? So we left it at that, and the three of us headed towards the park to catch a glimpse of the stage again (we had drove by it twice the day before). We also wanted to ask the event staff if they knew anything about the logistics of how the show was going to go down on Saturday. It seemed that nobody had any clue when we should get there or how the line was going to work or anything. So after wandering around, we headed back towards the deli to get to Chelsea's car. But before we got there, we saw Tattoo Girl walking up the street towards us. As she approached us, we asked her about her tattoo. She told us the story of how she got it and asked us if we were staying for Paul's sound check that day. We had JUST been talking about how Paul probably doesn't do his own sound check about an hour before we saw Tattoo Girl, and at that moment, I knew our Paul McCartney adventure was destiny. Everything was falling into place in such a way that we got as much Paul out of this trip as possible.
So we followed Tattoo Girl back towards the small crowd of about thirty people that were waiting behind the stage from across the street. This was at about 6:00 PM, and around 8:00 PM, the event staff started buzzing. The police suddenly became alert, and the walkie-talkies were going. Pretty soon after, we saw the motorcycle police drive up the street with a black Suburban behind it. The window rolled down and there was Paul, waving at us before he drove into the park. Alvita and I were beside ourselves. All we could do was scream and grab each other. We couldn't believe that we had gotten our first look at the man whose music had been the soundtrack to our lives.
After a bit of a wait, Paul started playing. Since we were across the street facing the back of the stage, Paul was a tiny speck that we could only see occasionally, but we heard him loud and clear. His sound check lasted about an hour and a half, during which he played a variety of full-length songs like "Coming Up" (which was not on the set list for this tour), "Something", and "Dance Tonight". We even heard bits and pieces of the orchestral part of "Live and Let Die", which sent Alvita and I over the edge. It was amazing just to hear him play, and the small crowd would cheer loudly whenever he finished. Occasionally after a song, he would turn around and wave at the bunch of us in the street. After he was done, it was another thirty minutes or so before the walkie-talkies came out again, and the police woke up, and Paul's car drove out of the park. Once again, he had his window rolled down and waved at us. He could have easily sped off with his tinted windows up, but he gave to the fans instead. After that, we conversed a bit with some of the other people there to see what their plans for tomorrow were. The general consensus was that it was too sketchy of a neighborhood to camp out in (according to the police) so the hard-core fans would probably arrive at the park the next day at around 6:00 AM. We wanted to get as close to the stage as possible, so if that's what the dedicated fans had to do to see Paul up close, then that was what we were going to do too.
Saturday.
Our alarms went off at 5:00 AM. We probably didn't get to sleep until 2:00 AM out of sheer excitement so we should have felt absurdly tired, but the fact that we were going to see Paul today made us leap out of bed and rush to get ready. The way we planned it, Chelsea was going to drive us to the train station so we could catch the 5:30 train that would take us to Midtown where the park was. She, not being a completely insane fangirl, would then go back home and sleep while we waited in line and then meet up with us later. We got to the station with only a few minutes to spare, and we ended up missing the train we originally wanted to catch because we couldn't figure out how to get a fare card on their machine. But another one came soon after and we arrived in Midtown.
It was a bit of the walk to the park, and it was still pitch dark out. The area down there really isn't the best at night, as the homeless people and drug addicts that normally hang in the park couldn't because it had been closed for a few days leading up to the show. As such, they were stuck wandering the streets, and normally I would be pretty scared to walk around there that early in the morning (especially since we were all dressed up and cute for Paul), but the sheer dedication to seeing Paul, and the adrenaline rush that came with knowing that we were going to see him ensured that anybody that
had tried to rob or rape would have had their goddamn eyes clawed out.
We arrived at the park gates at about 6:00 AM as planned and found that a line had already formed on the sidewalk. Tattoo Girl and her crew from the night before had ended up camping out all night, and a few people after them had gotten there at about 3:00 AM, and the people directly in front of us had gotten there only fifteen minutes before us. There was an unofficial numbering system among the fans in case anyone needed to get back in line, and Alvita and I were numbers 33 and 34, respectively. We were pretty much guaranteed that the first or second row would be ours for the taking! Now all we had to do was wait for the 4:00 PM venue opening.
And wait.
And wait...
We ended up sleeping on the unforgiving concrete until about 9:30 AM, and by then the sun was beating down on us in full force as if it were high noon. After that we just kind of sat around, occasionally getting up to walk back to the deli to use the bathroom, complain about how much pain we were in, or talk to the nice girl from Israel who arrived after we did. We brought a gallon jug of water with us as well as some peanut butter sandwiches, but when the sun is practically sitting on your head and it's 95 degrees out, the energy is going to get sucked out of you no matter what. But we were dedicated, and as time went on the line behind us got longer, and we became more excited.
Then the leeches started to wander in.
Around noon, the line behind us became so unthinkably long that latecomers started camping out on the mulch hill next to us on the sidewalk. Once the gates opened, we knew that was going to be a problem, because they would obviously try to merge into the line, cutting in front of the people who had been waiting patiently since the buttcrack of dawn to get in. One girl and her posse tried to claim that they got there at 10 AM and that they didn't see any line. Um, no. That could only be true if you were blind or retarded. When we said hell no you aren't getting in front of us, she tried to whine about how she had driven 1,000 miles to see Paul and she didn't have any friends to hold the line for her. That's not our problem girlie. Come prepared next time. Then they tried to pull the "Gee, it's really sad that Paul fans have to be this way" bit, trying to make us look like we're the asses. Uh huh...keep trying that. Thankfully, it wasn't just Alvita and I that caused a stink. The people in front of us and behind us we determined not to let these jerks in. I don't like that we had to get nasty...it's not my style. But we've been taught since preschool not to line cut, and considering we showed the proper dedication and had been sitting there for six hours already, there was no way in hell they were gonna take our precious spot at the front of the stage. They went ahead to talk to some of the people ahead of us (who they had been singing Beatles songs with earlier -
badly, I might add), but the nice lady who was directly in front of us intervened immediately and told the other fans what was going on. They didn't let them in. They still tried to inch their way in, but we just kept talking loudly to each other about how if those people dared to get in front of us, sh*t was going to fly. After a few hours of this we must have intimidated them enough that they sorta backed off enough that the people behind our little group could deal with them. They just weren't getting near us.
Around 3:00 PM Chelsea joined us and the whole area was bustling. Alternative lines started forming. There was a crowd of people who started gathering perpendicular to us right at the gate to the park. Some people were even daring to say that there wasn't a line at all. The problem was, the event staff were completely inept. It was originally planned that people who bought tickets on pre-sale (us) would get into the venue at 4 PM and everyone else would get in at five. Then it got too chaotic to do that and they decided they were going to let everyone in at once. Well that's fine, so long as these random people to the front and sides of us don't get in first. We were overtired, hungry, thirsty, and
extremely agitated. Multiply that by 40,000 people coming to the event. It could have become a mob scene. The fans at the very front of the line were repeatedly talking to the event staff to let them know what was going on. They even talked to the police in the area to warn them that people were going to get hurt if the line cutters were allowed in first. It was extremely serious and dangerous. We were being told by the staff that at 3:30 the entire park was going to be cleared and the people not in the real line would be sent to the back. Well, 3:30 rolled around, and there were still a ton of people trying to get in front of us. We were getting very anxious and nervous. The staff started saying that they
might be able to get the first 100 of us in and then they'd have to let in the other people. Alvita, myself, and all our other line buddies were prepared to push and shove if need be. I am not a violent person. I have never been in a fight in my entire life. But I was completely prepared to punch someone in the face (old person or otherwise) that tried to merge into the official line. The lot of us started chanting loudly at the cheaters, "GO TO THE BACK OF THE LINE! GO TO THE BACK OF THE LINE!" By that time we had been in the blazing hot sun for nine and a half hours...this was not a game. And dehydrated McCartney fans are not to be played with.
4:00 PM.
Like magic, a row of event staff emerged from the gate with locked arms and began edging the perpendicular line back and away from us. They had formed a corridor that allowed us in first. As soon as they gave the okay, we f*cking ran like hell. We were all running down the park path when I got screamed at by a female cop to stop running. I did for like three seconds....and as soon as I was out of her line of sight I was sprinting again. Alvita, Chelsea and I ran like the wind to the ticket gate, practically threw our tickets at the staff and then we were through. Once there, all we had between us and the stage was this giant field that began on a hill. As soon as I was through the gate, I looked up and there was this magnificent stage in all its glory, and Alvita and I started screaming as we ran down this steep hill at full speed.
A picture of our stage in the concert program I was in flat shoes rather than sneakers, so one misstep and I could have toppled down the hill and broken and ankle. I could have passed out from the sheer exertion of running since I was operating on so little water and the heat was so oppressive. But Destiny was at our backs, and we ran like we never ran before, shrieking the entire way. We got closer and closer to the stage. Alvita got to the front first, and I was with her within a few seconds. We started screaming hysterically. We were in the FRONT ROW!!! The only thing between us and Paul would be a metal barrier that stopped below the chest, and the stage, which was about seven feet off the ground. This was it. This was the big time. All our line buddies made it to the first or second row as well, so we were one ecstatic family. This is what triumph felt like. We beat the cheaters, and we were right where we had only dreamed we could be.
But it was only 4:00 PM, and the opening band didn't go on until about 7:00. We had three more hours in the heat.
We were all crammed in together, so it was extremely uncomfortable. Alvita and I chose to crouch down for the majority of the time to save our energy and benefit from the shade the people standing provided. Since we weren't allowed to bring any food or drink into the park with us, our gallon of water and sandwiches were abandoned in the mad rush to get into the park. There were no vendors at the front to sell water, so we went thirsty for a while. Eventually, I
had to go to the bathroom so I made my way through the crush of people, went, and bought some water for all of us. Making my way back to the front was a hassle, as people in the third and fourth row weren't content to just let me pass, so I really had to force my way back to the group. We drank some water, which quickly became warm. At first I tried to ration the water, as I didn't want to have to get up and pee again. The closer to the show, the harder it would be to get through the crowd. But I didn't want to pass out from heat stroke either, so I ultimately decided that if during the show I really had to go...screw it. I'll just pee my pants. The metal barrier in front of me would ensure that at least Paul wouldn't see anything, so I didn't care!
When 7:00 rolled around we were absolutely disgusting. We had been here for thirteen hours. We were slick with sweat in places where we didn't think sweat glands existed, we were thirsty, our feet hurt like hell from standing so much. The security line between us and the stage would occasionally spray us with their cold water or pass out any excess ice they had, which was nice. But the people in front desperately needed water. At some point Tattoo Girl had passed out and had to be carried over the barrier and carted off by the security line. That's when they finally got it together and brought a vendor out so we could buy water. Updated dance versions of Paul's music (which was surprisingly good) played over the speakers for a while and at 7:30, the opening band finally came on.
The Stitch, a band from Dublin played for about forty-five minutes. They were okay. Not great. The lead singer was trying to be Bono just a little bit too hard. For the most part, Alvita and I just stared at them with completely deadpan expressions, clapping lightly when they ended each song. We were saving our cheers for our beloved Paul. After what seemed like an age, they got off the damn stage and the stage hands arrived to rearrange everything for Paul. That took about twenty minutes and more dance music played. The wait was getting to be too much. I didn't think it was possible for one person to contain so much nervous energy. When was he going to get here?
Then, as if the Fates heard my thoughts, the background music stopped. Everyone in the park held a collective breath. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I think Alvita was holding my hand.
Paul walked on stage.
We. lost. our. sh*t.
I was screaming so hard I started to gag. I felt my stomach churn as if I was going to vomit. I felt light-headed, and my head was throbbing. He was so close to us. He brought out the famous Hofner bass and started playing "Drive My Car". The volume was blasting, and all I could do was scream the words at the top of my lungs. Tears started streaming down my face. I was grabbing my hair, clawing at my own arms, and any need to pee flew out the window as I'm pretty sure my body forgot that my bladder existed.
It was just one amazing song after the other. "Jet", "Only Mama Knows", "Flaming Pie".....everything was spot on. Paul's voice was in pristine condition as he rocked out with us, as images corresponding to each song played on a giant screen behind him. During "Got to Get You Into My Life", they actually showed video from The Beatles: Rock Band coming out in September. Everything was going great. Throughout the show Paul would look directly at us and smile or wink, which made us go crazy. It certainly didn't hurt that I was wearing a low cut red top and that meant any time I leaned over the barrier, he could get an eyeful of the goods! I did this frequently, and he looked frequently. :-D
When Paul started to sing "Blackbird", which was his tenth song in the set, it started to rain. This was no light rain either. It was a bloody downpour. So there we were, listening to one of Paul's most beautiful songs as the rain washed away the sweat and grime that accumulated on us over the last fourteen hours. In that moment, all my hysteria dissipated, and I reached some sort of clear state. It was as if I suddenly realized where I was, and as I looked at Paul, and the lights shining on him, and the glow and energy he possessed...it was if the saying that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus came true at that moment. I was in absolute awe of this man, who was no longer a man but a god, and I just stood there, silent, allowing the rain to cleanse me as I was baptized by his music. It's the only baptism I've ever had...and it's the only one I'll ever want.
The rest of the show is sort of a blur for me. One song merged into another, and my hysteria returned to me. "Foxy Lady" was played in honor of the anniversary of Woodstock and Jimi Hendrix. He sang "My Love" for Linda, "Here Today" in honor of John Lennon and he busted out George Harrison's ukulele to sing "Something" as a montage of George photos played in on the big screen.
We rocked out to "Eleanor Rigby", "Band on the Run", "Back in the USSR" and "I'm Down", which The Beatles played back at Shea Stadium back in the day. I was ecstatic to see that Paul's keyboard player played his solo with his elbows, much like John did back when he performed it. I knew that song was coming, and it was all I wanted out of the song.
He did a medley of "A Day in the Life" and "Give Peace a Chance" in which the video screen panned across the massive audience, all of whom were holding up peace signs.
After a few more songs, we finally got "Live and Let Die". We remembered the stage crew setting up the fireworks after The Script went on. Paul has always done massive pyrotechnics for this number and this was no exception. Despite this, I was not prepared for the epic wall of flamethrower fire that shot straight up from the stage. The heat from it was overpowering, and before we could think there were golden fireworks everywhere, the stage lights we chaotically spinning all over the place, Paul was playing his piano standing up...it was like a having a seizure. We went ballistic. The animalistic hysteria was in full force, and that fantastic spectacle was immediately calmed when he started playing "Hey Jude" at the piano.
I've always loved this song, but for some reason it's not usually a Beatles song that I tend to play. As such, I never developed any deep emotional attachment to it like I have other Beatles songs, but that changed at this show. He stared playing it, and Alvita and I started crying. We couldn't stop crying. It just kept going on and on (much like the song). At one point, Paul's official photographer got right in our face and stood there taking pictures of our epic fangirl tears. I didn't care. It was as if reality had disappeared and it was just me and him. All I could do was look up and Paul and cry...and as Paul walked off stage when he was done all I could do was cry out his name in my painfully hoarse voice.
Alvita said that it was a good thing he walked off on stage, because she said she didn't know what would have happened to her if he didn't. I don't know - I was too overcome to move any part of my body.
Paul came out for two more encores which included songs like "Day Tripper", Helter Skelter", "Get Back", and "Yesterday". Then Paul said it was time to say goodbye. All 40,000 of us screamed "NOOOOOO!" at the top of our lungs. I was screaming it with such desperation that if you didn't know any better you'd have thought someone was up there stabbing him to death. But Paul was firm, and he finished up with a "Sergeant Pepper Reprise"/"The End" medley.
After that, he took his final bow with the band and walked off. The stage went dark and the crew immediately started to dismantle everything. I was still sobbing. I didn't want to leave. I felt as if he had put me in this state and then abandoned me. How could he leave me to go back to my life without him? How could anything ever top this moment? I raggedly cried out his name a few more times before deciding that we should leave. I took one last look at the stage, then hobbled our sore, stiff bodies to the merchandise tent to get a program and a T-shirt.
The Beatles used to play for 20 minutes before running off. All in all, Paul played 33 songs over the course of two hours without taking a break once. I don't know how he is when he gets back to his hotel room, but on stage Paul McCartney is
not 67 years old. He is
25. After standing for two hours on my tip toes and craning my neck up for the whole night, my body felt as it it had aged fifty years I was in so much pain. But Paul didn't even look like he was sweating. He was so full of energy and you could tell he was genuinely in love with his music, and with us, his fans.
We walked in silence back to the train station. We rode the train in silence. Nobody talked during the car ride home. Chelsea was nice enough to make us macaroni and cheese before bed, since we hadn't eaten since noon. But Alvita and I just sat in here bed, silently nibbling the food. As hungry as I was, I didn't even want it. I was too overcome by what I had just seen. I couldn't put my emotions into words. I was simply raw, and to try and describe the experience would have done Paul a disservice because there is no vocabulary to express what he did, or what it meant to me.
Even on the plane ride home today I felt so numb to anything other than Paul that this usually terrified flier was completely calm. I just sat there with my iPod playing his music, and staring at his picture on the cover of the program for the hour and a half I was in the air.
No turbulence or plane noises or anything could jar me from my state of serenity. It truly felt as if I achieved everything I needed to achieve in life. I know people say that if they do that "one thing" they want to do in life they can die happy. It's cliche, but it couldn't have been more true on that plane. Had that plane started taking a nose dive into a mountain I wouldn't have cared. I saw the legendary Paul McCartney. He will be with me forever. I love him, and I am eternally grateful to him for sharing his gift with me that night.
Thank you, Paul. Thank you so much.
