On the wings of Paul McCartney

We rolled up to the Pepsi Center V.I.P. valet and six people tumbled out of my Yaris into a thicket of Audis and Mercedes. Zolla had obtained a parking pass. We were drinking Dr. Jack out of soda fountain cups. A first class operation.

Normally, I avoid expensive arena shows, but Lizzie scored six free Paul McCartney tickets from work. We were thinking nosebleeds, but as I ducked into our section my eyes lit up. Our seats were in the center of the arena, about ten rows off the floor. Because of a kickball game, we had just enough time to settle into our seats and gawk at each other in disbelief before Paul came out to thunderous applause.

I wasn't raised on the Beatles like some lucky souls and they've never been my absolute favorite band, but they do have a permanent place in my top ten. Once I started buying vinyl, my love solidified. I would sit for hours in Memphis listening to and discussing their records with my roommate Chris. I mainly went to this show to be able to say I've seen Paul McCartney. I also saw Ringo's All Starr Band at the Taste of Chicago. You only get so many chances.

Paul starts his shows with about a dozen of his solo songs. I don't know these at all, but they were entertaining. His talented band mainly jammed out of Paul's way, but the animated, crooning drummer, Abe Loriel was having the time of his life and held my attention for long stretches. There was also a mustachioed wild man dancing about five rows back, who continually bounded up and down the steps in pure ecstasy. These displays of passion provided the vital energy the show needed to go beyond just being a museum exhibit.

While the first section of the show was going on, we talked a lot about the songs we wanted to hear: Kathy wanted to hear her favorite Beatles song, "Yesterday," but we couldn't quite remember if it was a John or Paul song. Kyle, maybe jokingly, wondered if they would play "Band on the Run." I was hoping for "Lady Madonna" and someone else wanted to hear "Blackbird."

They slowly eased that way with "The Long and Winding Road," then "Blackbird," which got us out of our seats for the first time. The final half of the three hour show was mainly dedicated to Beatles tunes, punctuated by a six song double encore. The first was quick and refreshing (Daytripper, Get Back, Lady Madonna). The second thoroughly fulfilled any wishes for the evening. Kathy received "Yesterday." The awesome you-are-there video of a rollercoaster for "Helter Skelter" perfectly blended new and old technology. And the show ended with "Sgt. Peppers/The End."

Seeing a nostalgia act has been a mixed bag for me. The cream of this crop is polished, sober, and rich enough to do what they want on stage. Paul acted as if he were on a long victory lap and we were all lucky to be there. He's Paul fucking McCartney. He can do what he wants. And if he wants to play for three hours, tell a dozen anecdotes and jokes, use pyro-technics, and generally act as if we were all in the world's biggest parlor instead of a giant stone box, well, then, we were all lucky to be there. I saw Eric Clapton last summer with Steve Winwood and he didn't say a word to the crowd.