Are You From Liverpool or Lilliput?

RIP Glenn Mitchell.

I did not personally know Glenn Mitchell while working at KERA. We’d say hi in the hall, and that was it.

But I was a fan of his show. I was constantly surprised at how interesting his guests were (like last week when I hear Bruce Campbell on his show, though it could have been a repeat).

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Current music: “Without Jah, Nothing” by P.O.D. with HR (from Bad/Soul Brains)

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45 minutes before we intended to depart for the Paul McCartney concert last night the tickets were nowhere to be found. And I mean NOWHERE. It was pretty awful. Kelli knew she’d put them in the hutch… she thought. I’d taken to emptying out drawers, just digging through random crap to find them.

Then I looked in the cabinet where we keep the phone books. I’d put some random stack of papers in there at some point and forgotten about them. Probably a desperate, rushed cleanup we did back when we were trying to sell the house.

And I found myself saying, “Hope, Kelli. There’s hope. This is the kind of place they could be.”

And they were.

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Normally, I’d say it’s wise to try to avoid mixing up one’s Liverpudlians with one’s Lilliputians. But given how far we sat from the stage last night, well, I couldn’t blame anyone who mixed them up. Paul was small, period.

There was the huge video screen at least, so our concert experience was largely one of watching the concert on TV.

I don’t mean to disparage the event. The Arena Concert Trappings were quite cool and unbelievable, and the mix was good. It’s the first concert I’ve been to in a decade where I didn’t use earplugs. Maybe we just sat so far away that it wasn’t as loud up there.

He had a fairly tight five-piece band, and they mixed in much more modern stuff than I expected, including several songs from the new CD. But Paul… when your new CD is decent like this one, see, you don’t lose the audience when you play the new songs.

(Yes, that's BB giving imaginary performance advice to the ex-Beatle Paul McCartney)

He played obscure Beatles things too. I can honestly say that I was not familiar with “I Will,” but it was a gorgeous solo acoustic song.

We got the hits too, though, nicely balanced between fairly straight renditions and revamped approaches (the solo piano “Fixing a Hole” was nice). He was in fine voice, chatty, funny. It wasn’t the overwhelmingly emotional event I thought it could be, save for “The Long and Winding Road.” Suddenly I was a little boy again, and the voice from my stereo speakers was there, man, live and in person. And I thought I might cry. Really.

He played a lot of songs I love, like “Jet,” “Maybe I’m Amazed,” and “Helter Skelter” (which ROCKED!). Heck, he wrapped up the latter with a brief instrumental foray into “Foxey Lady.” I’m not kidding.

And the pyrotechnics on “Live and Let Die” made me think that my wife and I were actually in the presence of the Great and Powerful Oz. Colored flames, explosions, and uh, more flames and explosions. That part was LOUD. Afterwards he wiggled his fingers in his ears, and I could swear I saw him mouth “I’m not doing that again” to one of the crew.

With McCartney, you’re just going to get the Arena Concert Trappings, period. You can think you’re above it all, turn your nose up at it, whatever. Or you can just know that this is a freakin’ ex-Beatle and it’s going to be BIG and just GO with it. After every song he held up his guitar (when applicable) and waved to the crowd like the show was over. He obviously enjoys the adulation. At one point he told the crowd he was just going to take a minute to “soak it all in.” He stepped away from the mic and stood at the edge of the stage while the audience went berserk at the mere sight of him. He smiled like, well, an ex-Beatle having a damn good time.

SO, it wasn’t a life-changing event, but it was a damn good one.

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At the IHOP after the show we were approached by a talkative older guy who… was just all over the map. He straddled that line between amusing and annoying. Heck, he introduced himself by saying if I weren’t there with Kelli he’d be taking her home. Ha ha, funny there, gramps. Hey, I’m tryin’ to eat my short stack here…

He did ask if we minded him sitting by us, and I told him that as long as he wasn’t trying to sell something or introduce us to Jesus I didn’t mind.

In the course of the conversation, man… he claimed to have funded Harvard tuition for young women in need, instructed Darrell Royal how to have Roger Staubach play, rubbed elbows with Clive Davis… his foot was on the accelerator, but his particular motor vehicle didn’t have a steering wheel, you know?

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Kelli took the hint and we bailed kinda early anyway. Been nice dude. Yes, I’ll take your business card (sells life insurance, of course, though he did not pitch it to us). Note to self: Next time hit the Denny’s.

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I ran eight miles yesterday morning. Eight! For the first time I feel like I’ll be ready for the half marathon in January. I’d meant to shoot for six, and just found that I wasn’t out of steam at that point. It kinda of wiped me out that afternoon, but I’m happy to be running well.

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Again, no fallout from the latest from ASS. I’m feeling a bit more bold about my dealings with this person.

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Have a good Monday.