One amazing night, one lasting voice
By: Alyssa de la Garza
Issue date: 9/1/09 Section: Entertainment
For the rest of my natural life, there is one day that will stand out from every other: Aug. 19, 2009. While the rest of my classmates were in school, I was in another state and a completely alternate frame of mind.
On this day I got lost in Dallas traffic, ended up in a corn field in Plano, and still managed to stumble upon the event that would stop time in its tracks.
At nine o'clock in the evening-exactly then, mind you, because I was watching the clock-Sir Paul McCartney walked out on stage and thousands upon thousands of people erupted into applause.
My intense admiration for this man aside, this was a completely breathtaking experience. The man on stage was an ex-Beatle and world-renowned performer. If anyone wins at life, it's this guy. It was incredible to see that he actually existed for one thing, which was a realization that almost dwarfed all others. As the concert took off, I realized that I was absolutely numb. I couldn't believe it! How many other people got this kind of chance in their lifetimes?
Well, plenty of people do, but not me.
I screamed, of course, which is par for the course when you're at the concert of a living legend. It was amazing to see almost 60,000 people united in their love of one individual and his body of work. "Hey Jude" brought me to tears almost instantly, as did a lesser-known song of his called "Calico Skies." "The Long and Winding Road" was beautiful, as was "Let It Be." But really... when you're seeing Paul McCartney, do you really expect any less?
He played tributes to both John Lennon and George Harrison as well as Jimi Hendrix and his late wife, Linda. (He made a brief mention of Eric Clapton, which was entirely surreal considering that he mentioned one of the other gods of rock like his next-door neighbor.) "Live and Let Die" featured a pyrotechnic show that had us all jumping in our seats and yelping in surprise.
He ended the three-hour affair with "Sgt. Pepper" and "The End," which was the icing on the cake for me. After he walked offstage, I sat in my chair with a dumbfounded look on my face until my friend, Addie, came to get me. (It's a good thing, too, because I might have just stayed there all night. They would have had to sweep me out with the ticket stubs and old beer bottles.)
When all was said and done, this is a night that I'll be clinging to for the rest of my life. It's an experience that I will never be able to trade in or surpass, no matter what else comes down the line. I don't know yet if it was worth the horrible game of catch-up I've been playing since my return, but as far as experiences go this was the penultimate.
On this day I got lost in Dallas traffic, ended up in a corn field in Plano, and still managed to stumble upon the event that would stop time in its tracks.
At nine o'clock in the evening-exactly then, mind you, because I was watching the clock-Sir Paul McCartney walked out on stage and thousands upon thousands of people erupted into applause.
My intense admiration for this man aside, this was a completely breathtaking experience. The man on stage was an ex-Beatle and world-renowned performer. If anyone wins at life, it's this guy. It was incredible to see that he actually existed for one thing, which was a realization that almost dwarfed all others. As the concert took off, I realized that I was absolutely numb. I couldn't believe it! How many other people got this kind of chance in their lifetimes?
Well, plenty of people do, but not me.
I screamed, of course, which is par for the course when you're at the concert of a living legend. It was amazing to see almost 60,000 people united in their love of one individual and his body of work. "Hey Jude" brought me to tears almost instantly, as did a lesser-known song of his called "Calico Skies." "The Long and Winding Road" was beautiful, as was "Let It Be." But really... when you're seeing Paul McCartney, do you really expect any less?
He played tributes to both John Lennon and George Harrison as well as Jimi Hendrix and his late wife, Linda. (He made a brief mention of Eric Clapton, which was entirely surreal considering that he mentioned one of the other gods of rock like his next-door neighbor.) "Live and Let Die" featured a pyrotechnic show that had us all jumping in our seats and yelping in surprise.
He ended the three-hour affair with "Sgt. Pepper" and "The End," which was the icing on the cake for me. After he walked offstage, I sat in my chair with a dumbfounded look on my face until my friend, Addie, came to get me. (It's a good thing, too, because I might have just stayed there all night. They would have had to sweep me out with the ticket stubs and old beer bottles.)
When all was said and done, this is a night that I'll be clinging to for the rest of my life. It's an experience that I will never be able to trade in or surpass, no matter what else comes down the line. I don't know yet if it was worth the horrible game of catch-up I've been playing since my return, but as far as experiences go this was the penultimate.