Monday, December 10, 2012

"Do You Say 'H-oo-stun', Or 'H-you-stun'?"

What's big, loud, and the best possible way to spend three hours with a man?
Going to see Paul McCartney.
Why, what did you think I meant?

We packed up the car, and drove down to Houston just for it.
Would you like to hear some of the highlights?
Of course you would!
Reginald Kitty is not amused.

*Limo watch was, somehow, even more awesome than usual. There was a rather large, dedicated crowd that night, all singing, dancing, and talking right up until we saw the tell-tale black SUV coming 'round the corner at the far end of the street.
This was the best picture I got. There is no possible way to keep a camera still when you're shaking like I was; I had to convince my mother that I didn't need to set down, and that we needed to get in line right-the-hell-now before all of the merch was gone.

When it was all over, the girl behind me started bawling her eyes out, repeating "he was right there!" and pointing in the general direction of the street. I asked her if it was her first Paul show, to which she nodded, soggily. I patted her arm, told her we had all been there, and to have fun at the show.

*Since I insisted that we run like the dickens to get in line for the ticket scan, we were fortunate to hear the ENTIRE soundcheck. I about wet my britches when he played "Every Night", pulling my mother's sleeve and whisper-shouting "HE HASN'T PLAYED THAT SINCE DENVER IN 2002". I fangirled harder about that one than the others he played during the soundcheck set, but, in all honesty, I was just happy to be there.

*What has come to be known as The Great Poster Debacle. For every show, I get the collector's poster to frame with my ticket; sometimes, they have plenty of posters in flat boxes behind the table, while others are a limited edition. I ran to the merch table as soon as we were let into the building; panting, I screamed savagely at the poor guy behind the counter "POSTER!" while trying to catch my breath. While I continued going absolutely mental at the merch table (I still feel extremely guilty about it), I forced my mother into the role of double-checker, making sure we didn't repeat the Denver Incident. Disgustingly pleased with my selections, we battled our way through the crowd, and started looking for our seats -- of course, they were on the opposite side of a ball park that was only partially open to foot traffic (more on this in a minute). We're halfway to our seats when we start talking about the poster.
"He didn't charge us near enough for the poster," my mother said.
"I'm just glad I got one, and it's not glossy, like the ones for Tulsa and Dallas," I replied.
"Oh, it's glossy," she said.
We argued for a minute before pulling it out, and realizing it was the wrong thing.
After I had run through, dodged, slipped by, and shoved every moron carrying a mustard encrusted hot dog, my mother told me she had never seen me move that fast before. Fortunately, the issue was quickly resolved, and I didn't have to start murdering people. What was unfortunate, however, is that we now had to get through a massive crowd. By massive, I mean, massive. I was nearly trampled by a rather large, inconsiderate man, and was glad I didn't die before the concert.
They have room for a barn dance in that train compared to what we were dealing with.

*Paul was having hair trouble. Try as he might, he could not keep his fringe out of his face. It was precious.
May I now take this opportunity, then, to petition to The Universe At Large for the late-80s/early-90s Paul hair?
Look at it. It's magical, like a unicorn.

*Paul Flub of the Night: he beautifully butchered a verse in "Maybe I'm Amazed". It was wonderful.

*Personal favorite moment of the show: during a heated guitar solo, he turned around to his drummer (which he does often, and I love it, and judge other artists by how often they do the same thing), smiled adorably, and started rubbing the neck of his guitar on top of one of the amps. It was glorious.

Does this sound like a fun evening, or what?
Well, if you'd like to get a small taste of what goes on, this two hour and twenty-five minute video is probably a good place to start; they've taken the best of each YouTube video from the show, and edited them together. I haven't had the chance to watch it yet, but it sounds like an awesome project.

Don't have that much time to spare? Take this, and we can fangirl together.

Fun Fact: I fell in love with this version before I ever heard the actual "McCartney" album version, mostly because the "Back in the US" CD was on repeat on my Walkman for years. If I'm listening to this song, odds are high that it's this version. And he still sings it just as beautifully ten years later. And that's when I died a little.

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