For Christ Sake, Paul

Happy Birthday, Paul McCartney.

79 today. Fucking 79. Please stop. Not as in dying, more like flash freezing.

The guy drives me crazy. He has written so many beautiful songs, classic songs that everybody around the world recognizes. And the man can rock - he has written many, many seriously rocking songs.

He also has a pretty solid repertoire of sappy songs. Embarassing songs. Simple songs. I don't know why.

He is an enormous talent.

I have been hard on him over the years but the more time goes by the more I soften up.

I don't want to lose him. He's a Beatle.

Had to drive Carol to a follow up appointment for the cataract thing yesterday. The Beatles channel on Sirius XM is a good compromise for our radically different musical preferences. I chose it for the ride, which was delicious because I haven't listened to it in quite a while.

But the bonus was this morning. At 6 fucking 30. The channel was still set, so there it was when I fired up the radio. It was insider radio, you know - a guy who was close to the Beatles, knows everything about them and can give you an insider's perspective. He tells stories, spins a song or two, tells more stories.

I love stuff like that. I was mesmerized. Unfortunately I don't remember his name. I thought I would but I am too fucking tired to recall. It's Friday night, you know. Stunning, no? I never write on Friday nights. Usually pour myself a whiskey straight away and wait for the blood to stop dripping off of my skull.

But I am feeling raw and emotional tonight. I have to write. My emotions have been up and down and all around all day like they were strapped in to the world's biggest, baddest rollercoaster. Which, in a sense, they were.

I was hostile when I left the house this morning.The Beatles thing soothed and caressed my nerves. I got slammed at work with a mountain of work, endless interruptions and excessively stupid questions.

Then I listened to the Beatles channel on the way home - they were celebrating Paul's birthday. Insider stuff again. Chiselled off the sharp edges. Shit, man - they played a live song from 1962 when the Beatles were in Hamburg, Germany. I have never heard that stuff before.

Sir Paul. I used to hate that. I am even beginning to accept it and respect it. For Christ sake, who deserves to be knighted more than a Beatle?

Quick sidebar: Maybe I'm Amazed, and My Love are two of my all time favorite love songs. They make me think of Carol every time. Often with tears in my eyes.

As I pulled into the driveway they were teeing up the last song of Paul's birthday celebration. Let It Be.

Let It Be is a very emotional song for me. It goes straight to my heart. I love it. Lyrics, music, mood - love it all.

In 2008 Billy Joel played a concert at Shea Stadium. Paul McCartney was a guest artist. It was to be the last concert ever performed at Shea Stadium. The kicker is that on August 15, 1965 The Beatles played at Shea Stadium. It was the first-ever open-air stadium rock concert.

For the last song of the night in 2008 - the last song that would ever be performed at Shea Stadium - Billy Joel graciously stepped aside and handed the spotlight over to Paul. Closing the loop in a very big way.

He sang Let It Be. The audience sang right along with him. I love it when that happens. There is no bigger tribute to an artist.

I sat in my car, tipped my head back and drank it all in. What a perfect ending to my bizarre fucking day.

When it was over and the audience was wildly applauding, Billy Joel said "Sir Paul McCartney". And I didn't mind. It sounded right to me.

The Beatles have meant so many things to me over the years. Liberation, when I was young. They blew my mind and convinced me that my life could be my own. That I could shape it and mold it and make it something unique and personal and exciting.

Regret, as I got older. As my life became the horrible stereotype I had hoped to avoid.

Now The Beatles represent a thing of wonder for me. They broke big in 1963. They broke up in 1969. No other group ever grew and experimented and changed and improved in such a short time. 6 years in human life. 1 million years in musical life. Listen to their music in 1963 and their music in 1969 and your mind cannot even comprehend the difference. Absolutely fucking stunning.

I celebrated Paul's birthday with him today. Jesus Christ it kept me alive. Stopped me from swerving into the path of an oncoming 18 wheeler.

I was moved, inspired, and informed. I sang a lot. My emotions were right where I need them to be to fully realize and enjoy who I am.

Happy Birthday, Paul McCartney.

I love you, man. I love your music. I am awed by your talent.

You and George Harrison and Ringo Starr and John Lennon formed a large part of my character. My personality. My perspective.

That is a hell of a gift.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.