Paul McCartney has another album coming out and to promote it I guess he agreed to do some interviews, a lengthy one in the New Yorker, and a shorter thing in the LA Times. I usually don’t read such things because I don’t really care that much about the gossipy details of a celebrity’s life. I mean for god’s sake who really needs to know that Paul’s ex-wife clains he refused to allow her to keep a chamber pot in the bedroom causing her to crawl to the bathroom at night because she has only one leg. Who knows if this is true? Except for the one leg part. That’s probably true, and one has to wonder why the hell Paul married somebody with one leg. Not that there’s anything wrong with marrying a person with one leg. But for me it brings up all sorts of psychological issues….for me at least.
Paul just turned 64 I guess and so the thing that kept coming up was the song, “When I’m 64.” The song starts:
When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now.
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine.
I don’t know the year Paul wrote the song, but whenever he did “The many years from now” is upon us. Upon me, anyway. It’s odd to me to think he is only three years older than I. I think John was a couple of years older than Paul. Anyway, there they are flying around the globe, turning out record after record to unparalleled popular response, when I am in high school reading Dostoevsky. Somehow back then I felt they were way older than I was, though I never did look into it back then.
The New Yorker interview brings up the loss in Paul’s life, the loss of his mother when he was 14, I think, John, of course, George, and Linda, his wife of 29 years, I think. That’s lots of loss. And at the end of the New Yorker interview, he goes on about how he is a pretty positive guy, and how he knows all of those people who have died before him would want him to carry on with a positive attitude, etcetera, and etcetera. I wonder did he think that was necessary or something for the sake of the fans, possibly. Please. Give me a break. I would rather he had said I am depressed as shit and think about killing myself every day, but, what the hell, I carry on, or something like that.
But Paul wasn’t the “deep” one, in any case. John might have said something like that were he still around. But he took a quick exit back in 1980 when some lunatic shot him in the head.
Happy days.
