Where’s the photo? I didn’t get one.
Yeah, Yeah, I know it’s cool that I met Sir Paul McCartney today in the Hamptons, where I have been hanging this week. “It’s cool” is an understatement. For me, it was better than meeting God, if I actually believed in her. The Beatles are my Religion.
Linda! We know you better than that! You would never pass up a photo opp! What happened?
This afternoon, I biked with my friend to the beach. We stopped and met up with another kind of girlfriend of mine. I don’t know her that well, but she’s a friend of a friend. She proceeds to tell us that Paul McCartney is sitting on a picnic table around the corner. And she had this amazing collage that she made for him, by total coincidence, with her. She kinda knows him from the hood. She was too timid to take it over to him, while he was enjoying his privacy with his fiancé and a few friends, including Lorne Michaels from SNL.
Naturally, I said, “I’ll go over there with you! It’s an awesome gift. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
My chance to meet one of the Beatles? Are you kidding me? I would have gone over there myself, and of course VERY POLITELY introduce myself and ask for a photo together, as long as he didn’t mind. I wish that had been the case, actually. Because I would have that photo.
Well, anyway, I convinced her to go for it. But she said you can’t ask him for photos or anything. I just want to give him the gift.
We walked the large collage down to the table. He looked a little puzzled, and then the gift was unveiled. It was beautiful. He seemed to be very appreciative. And I have to say, he looked absolutely amazing. Very cute. Up close.
So, I at least put my hand out and introduced myself. At approximately 2:30 p.m. on August 24th, 2011, I shook Paul McCartney’s hand.
I said “I covered “I’m Only Sleeping” on my latest album. I love that song!” Then I added, “Will Lee, ya know Will Lee, from the Fab Faux, he played the bass on it! He Said, “Yeah I know Will, cool.” And that was it.
We walked away. 2 Minutes after, 75 yards away we just stood there. I felt like Moses after talking to the burning bush. None of us asked for a photo or an autograph. The Artist said, “do you think I should go get a photo?”. I said, “Yeah” Why Not? Well, it’s tacky…
“Why is that tacky?” I would have taken that photo with me to the grave. I was dying to have my photo with Paul! DYING!
(Plus, it’s the least he could do. I have made him money! Royalties from the cut on my album! He really needs that money!)
Because it was her connection, I reluctantly respected her wishes. But I was pretty upset. I’m actually crying now as I type this part.
So I proceeded to have a fucking melt down. I bawled my eyes out for a while, and tried to shake it off. I called Will to talk me down. He didn’t answer, so I left him a message to call me! The tears were still flowing. I called my husband, the tears still running down my face.
First of all, I really hate anyone telling me what to do. Secondly, I love the Beatles as much as anyone can.
I remember meeting Springsteen, and he was so gracious about taking a photo. Sure, he ain’t no Sir, but he’s the Boss!
So, I figured Paul would be as cool. And maybe he is, but today I didn’t get the chance to find out.
Instead, 3 hours later I went back to the picnic table and sniffed where he was sitting, and got a shot of that.
Excuse me, my phone is ringing….it’s WILL! Seriously! (6:39 pm)
…20 minutes later. He talked me down. He understood my pain. He prays to the same. I feel a little better.