Don't laugh. Apparently, I've been under a rock latelya rock as big as the famous one in Gibraltar. Now that I have emerged from underneath said rock, I feel ashamed...And angry.
So Paul McCartney is touring the U.S., huh? And tickets went on sale months ago? Why didn't I get the memo? I am only one of the biggest McCartney and Beatles fans I know. I should be informed of such monumental things. My head hangs in shame over my keyboard.
But let's forget about the shame for a moment, and let's talk about how angry I am.
Once I was aware of the situation and my adrenaline was flowing at a near-record pace, I immediately started searching for tickets. The Texas shows are sold out, as I expected. This isn't necessarily a problem, since I can buy tickets from resellers, right? Um, sure...If I happen to have a spare $300 or $400 laying around. Per ticket. For rather awful seats.
What is this? Is Paul himself responsible for these outrageous ticket prices? Is money really going to keep me from witnessing what could possibly be a once-in-a-lifetime event? I am beside myself with disappointment.
If I'd known about the tour early enough, I could've bought the tickets through Ticketmaster and saved at least a little bit of money. However, my failure to be aware of such happenings hasn't stopped me from thinking about the “what ifs”...
How many people who are going to these concerts actually know as much about Paul McCartney and The Beatles as they should? What if venue managers make each potential concert goer take a test that reveals how much he or she doesor doesn'tknow about Sir Paul and his history. If he or she cannot pass, he or she cannot be admitted into the venue. How's that? I'll bet half of them would be sent away to reflect upon their lack of knowledge.
How many of these people have a mint-condition copy of “Tug of War” in their music collection? How many of them even know what “Tripping the Live Fantastic” is? What's their favorite song off of “Give My Regards to Broad Street”? Do they know who “Wings” is? Do they know Paul's real first name? I could have such fun designing this assessment!
But that's not happening. And I guess I won't be attending the concert I've been looking forward to and deserving to go to for over a decade. Sniffle.
It's okay, though. I'll still remain a devoted fan. I'll still play my worn-out copy of “Flowers in the Dirt” with pride. I'll still know what John covertly mumbled about Paul during the middle portion of the song “Yellow Submarine” and chuckle about it to myself. I'll live.
However, my graduation is coming up in a few months. If a particularly philanthropic individual is feeling proud of my educational accomplishments, he or she may kindly honor me with the gift of live music, and I won't complain at all.
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