My Other Paul Shows
Saturday, July 18, 2009. I didn’t make it to the show when Billy Joel and Paul McCartney played Shea Stadium in 2008. I went to Quebec instead. I was determined to make it to this concert at Citi Field. The Beatles played the very first stadium show at Shea in 1965, so it was only right that Paul should play in the last show ever at Shea Stadium.
It was equally right that he should be the inaugural concert for the new Mets’ stadium, Citi Field. This was an historic event. Ok, three historic events, because it was three nights of Macca. But, I was never more determined to be at a concert; to be a part of that history. No, this wasn’t the first time I’d been a part of history with Paul. This was just the most important, in the grand scheme of Beatles’ history, that is.
I invited my friend V to experience this with me, and I tried my best to explain the historical significance. I guess I was just too excited to properly illustrate just why this concert was one that could not be missed. We picked the Saturday show really because it was easiest to get to. We wouldn’t have to worry about taking off work or anything like that, and we’d get a quick weekend trip to New York. I thought that was great.
The trip started off pretty well. We got on the bus and everything was going alright, until we stopped in Newton, MA. The driver made a wrong turn and we ended up heading back towards Boston instead of New York. We had to come all the way back to the city before the driver decided to turn around.
I had to laugh. Of course, it threw off our entire schedule, but we figured that this trip would be an interesting one, anyway. We got to New York City (late) and found a quaint cafe to eat at. We checked into our hotel, gathered our things and then headed out to the Rock Hall Annex. I figured that it would be alright if we got there a little later in the afternoon because, by that time, folks would be heading to the venue for the concert.
I was right. There was hardly anyone at the Annex. We got lost trying to get there (mostly because the subway in New York is very confusing. It was awful! I was utterly aggravated by the time we actually found the Annex.) and we were an hour late. They let us in anyway.
The Annex was, in a word, amazing. And, now I want to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland to see all the cool stuff there. The Lennon exhibit was very interesting and moving for me. Honestly, I don’t know what else to say about it other than that. It’s something that folks should experience for themselves, I think.
We got on the train and switched to the 7. We were finally on our way to Citi Field! We didn’t leave the Annex until a little after 7, and it took us a good 45 minutes to get to the park. On the train, I met some other Macca folks, one of whom was at the Quebec show last year. I wore my Quebec concert t-shirt, and this lady had to comment on it.
“Oh, I was there too! Where were you?”
So, I shared a bit of the story and she did as well. There were other folks there, one of whom has seen thirteen Paul shows. Jeez, I need to catch up.
Eventually, a seat opened up beside the Quebec lady. We got on the topic of the recent show in Nova Scotia.
“I was there!” she said.
I asked her if she’d met “the girl who got on stage and had her arm signed to get that tattoo.”
“Oh my God, Audrey!” she exclaimed.
The universe is hysterical sometimes. I sat next to the lady who gave Audrey use of her hotel room, blankets, some food to eat. I was privy to a bit of the back story. It was awesome.
She wrote down her name, Elsa, and her email address and asked me to please tell Audrey that we’d met and that she would make contact as soon as she got home to Houston. Elsa planned on going to the shows in Washington DC after New York. Now, that’s dedication.
I told her my name and shook her hand as we exited the train and made our way to the stadium. I thought that was pretty amazing to meet Elsa like that.
We got into the stadium, and I was really close to losing what’s left of my mind. I got a couple of souvenirs and then V and I found a bathroom. We hadn’t eaten since we got off the bus, so we got sandwiches at Subway inside the stadium. We made our way to our seats, awesome Macca remixes blaring. (Temporary Secretary is still on repeat in my mind.) We hadn’t been seated long before a notice appeared on the screens on each side of the stage: “The show will start in 10 minutes.”
Fantastic! So, I figured we’d have time to eat and then sit thru the opening act. I’d no sooner finished my sandwich when people started to scream.
V asked excitedly: “Is that him? Is that Paul?” My jaw hit the floor. I wasn’t ready yet! I was expecting an opening act.
“Oh my gosh, Paul!” I yelled.
This was the first Paul show I’ve ever been to where the music was so loud that the ground shook beneath my feet. It’s happened at other shows–most notably the mighty Metallica–but never at Paul’s show. It was incredible!
Honestly, the rest of the show–with the exception of I’m Down, Day Tripper, Calico Skies and Sing the Changes–is a blur of wonderfulness. The man was in fabulous form and I was in music heaven.
After the show, we made our way down among the crowd. I stopped at field level and ran to get some confetti (I wanted to keep some this time. The confetti I had from Quebec disappeared.). I stopped a couple of folks on the way to the train and asked if I could take a photo of their wristband as a momento. You only got a wristband if you were on the field.
We got on the 7 train and of course we were surrounded by Macca folks; one of whom didn’t mind at all when I asked him if I could get an up close photo of his wristband. Just as I leaned down to take it, another gentleman said: “I can do you one better than that.”
He proceeded to take off his wristband. V was stunned and I was speechless. He handed the wristband to me.
“Are you sure?” I asked, overwhelmed.
“Sure!” he said “We have an extra one at home that we ended up not using. Take it.”
And, I cried. I was just so moved (even though, yes, it was just a wristband. but that wasn’t the point.) that I didn’t know what to say. I thanked him repeatedly.
He reminded me of the fact that we’re a family; all of us who adore the Beatles. It’s a oneness that can’t properly be described, nor can it be equaled. I am blessed to be a part of that family.