Monday, August 18, 2014

Seeing Paul McCartney!

  So I've been dreaming and imagining and craving to see one, just one of the Beatles ever since I became their number one~ish fan. So I'm not their biggest probably, but I wanted so badly to see one at least once in my life. I was scared it might never happen, I'd seen Beatle Tribute bands, one which was surprisingly good, but I had a sickness, and the only cure was a real Beatle. So it came down to two of them, the two last living Beatles, Paul McCartney the bassest and Ringo Starr the drummer. I'd seen more so Paul's touring schedules, but never Ringo's, so I kept my eye out for Paul.

   Then, earlier this year I was dramatically surprised to hear that some family members pulled together and bought me a ticket to go see Paul at Candlestick Park in San Francisco. I was completely overwhelmed inside, though I gave a very pitiful reaction to the news (does anyone else feel this way to big news!?) So if any of you had heard, Paul recently played and closed Candlestick Park for good. The 49ers stadium is now history, along with the amazing concert that Paul played. I am so overwhelmed and truly greatful to have made it to such a historical moment.

And I got to see him shake his butt for us! haha.
      Not only was this my first time seeing a Beatle live, it was my first ever concert in my whole life. I'd never seen parking so crazy, fans so crazy, smell things so crazy in all of my life. At least for now. But my overall experience was one of pure happiness and a pinch of innocence. I was like a child meeting their idolized Disney character at Disneyland, mouth open, eyes wide, tears forming. Yeah, the whole enchilada. I was so nervous as we walked inside the stadium after our long wait for parking. Walking down the sides of the stadium toward our seats, then finding out that the people in front of us were going to be Jack n' the Boxes through out the whole concert.

    I felt like Rapunzel from Tangled, when she asks Flynn, "I've been looking out of a window for eighteen years, dreaming about what I might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be?" He replies, "It will be." She smiles and asks again, "And what if it is? What do I do then?" Again he smiles, and again he answers, " Well, that's the good part I guess. You get to go find a new dream." I had such an uneasy feeling about the moment when Paul would come out on stage, what would I do? How would I react? Is this going to be everything I dreamt it to be? And like Flynn said to Rapunzel, "It will be," And it surely was.

     The music began to grow louder and the lights growing dimmer. It was about nine o'clock at night now, so the sky was very dark. I stood up with phone in hand, ready to record. I had sunglasses over my eyes since the stage lights were so bright. The crowd began to cheer as the lights on the stage turned off, my heart at this point was pounding loudly in my ears. A spotlight beamed on, and there waved Sir Paul McCartney, the large projector screens provided me a better glimpse of him, and I instantly began to cry loudly. I caught it on a video, my hand surprisingly keeping amazingly still. Like I said earlier, I was a child meeting their hero, and though we were far away from each other, I was alright with just being that near him. On top of all these emotions, the first song he plays is my favorite Beatle song, "Eight Days a Week,".

    I honestly can't thank my family enough for providing me such a huge gift. I will remember that night, both it's good and bads, forever. I also am so greatful to have been apart of a Beatle's historical event, along with the end of a great stadium, a home to the legendary 49ers.  This wasn't all, however. At the end of the concert, the blew two cannons of confetti from the stage way far off and as we sat waiting for the crowds to clear out,  we all watched as a small thin piece of confetti fluttered down all the way to the back of the stadium where we were. It was  seriously a forrest gump moment! And as we watched it, it just kept coming closer and closer till it literally could have landed in our laps. Instead though, it flew straight down two rows in front of us. I hustled over seats toward where I watched it fall, and I'm proud to say I rescued that little paper from drowning in a puddle of beer.

   It was soaked and I placed it on my hand as flat as I could so it would dry. And over all the merchandise I bought, that little paper that flew all the way from the stage toward the back, is the most important to me. It now sits, dry in a Ziploc bag, safely away in a box. I look forward to sharing this treasure with friends and family, and possibly when I'm older, to share the memories of that day with my children and their children.

  I thank my family, for the opportunity, I thank God for our safe trip to and from San Francisco,  and I thank the Beatles for their music, which has kept me going through all of life's changes. Thank you Paul, for an amazing night.

Monday, August 11, 2014

I need to see Paris.

    I never realized it till about a few seconds ago that many of my beloved books, movies, and music comes from Paris. Through the screen of my television, I see only a square of a great city. It's lights, it's people, it's culture. I long to know why we see Paris as such a place of love, only a true Frenchman could tell me why. Or why the accordion is so connected to the sound of Paris. I could Google these questions, but I feel like I wouldn't get a satisfying answer; these things come from the people,  not a computer.

      It's strange the feelings I get when I look at Paris. Sometimes I feel like a hopeless romantic, awaiting a night on the town. Other times I feel as though I should run to my kitchen, blasting accordion music and creating boeuf bourguignon. But all of these feelings are caused by what I've seen of France, I see cooks, lovers, artists, creepy characters and detectives from the 60's. Sorry if you're French. But it's just like how we envision any place, such as New York. I've never been there, but I can imagine it being smoky, noisy, busy, but full of good shops, clothing, and people. I also imagine New York as a place of American History and leadership.

   So you see, we are all stereotyped from what we see most of our cultures. But why is it that I cling to France? Someday I hope to find out. As I've heard in an Audrey Hepburn film, I am never to carry a brief case or umbrella through Paris, and I'm to get myself some good light rain because that's when Paris smells it's sweetest.

   I've decided to do as she says, but I also long to create my own list for a first timer in Paris...

                         1.  Walk through Paris in the rain, wearing a thick coat and scarf.

                                                 2.Go down one of Paris's waterways.
                    3. Parade down the Daru Staircase like Audrey Hepburn did in Funny Face.

                                                      4. Watch an old French film.

                                                5. Paint at least once while you're there

                                               6.Say "Bonjour," to at least one stranger.

                                                      7.Stay somewhere with a balcony.
                                        8.Take a photo with at least one of the statues there.
                                                        9.Listen to an accordion player.
                                                      10.Go up the Eiffel tower at night.
Maybe someday I'll be able to pursue this list, or maybe one of you out there can achieve it
first. But for now, maybe I'll continue to add to this list, or maybe I'll be drawn to a whole new city, for now though, this is where I long to be!