Actually I was a LOT younger than 17. But never mind.
Okay, let me say at the outset that this is not going to be one of my regular travel blogs. For this one, we’re going to travel back in time to the ’60’s and my love affair with Paul. You know who I’m talking about, don’t you? That would be “Sir Paul” to you today, but back then he was simply the object of my teenage longing.
Last week I responded to the news of his recent engagement in much the way you might expect:
Oh, NO! Not again!!
First, I had to compete with his girlfriend, Jane Asher. Then it was Linda, followed much later by Heather. Now it’s Nancy. I’ve been patient, biding my time, waiting for just the right moment to make my move. And now he’s slipped through my fingers yet again.
Wait – my name is Nancy. Is it possible – do you think – could this be – a case of mistaken identity – or worse, ID fraud!? Think about it. Nancy Shevell’s family is in the transportation business. My dad was a traveling salesman, I’m a travel writer. Nancy Shevell is a brunette, I have been on occasion. See where this is going? Just sayin’ . . . She’s 51, I’m – well, okay, she’s got me beat there. But I was once!
Ah, Paul. Only back then we never just said the Beatles’ names. It was more like PAUL!! JOHN!! GEORGE!! RINGO!! We swooned, we fainted, we screamed our way into adulthood.
Flash back to the local theater in Oneonta, New York, where we tween girls – and two boys – packed the place to capacity to see the film, A Hard Day’s Night. We never did hear any of the dialogue or the music because we screamed ourselves hoarse throughout the entire movie. Newspapers reported the next day that our screams could be heard from three blocks away. Only three blocks?
Back then we chose our closest friends based on who our favorite Beatle was. I claimed Paul at the outset and my more serious friend had dibs on John. Then we coerced her quiet sister into choosing George, and another friend was left with Ringo. The truth was we loved them all, but my heart was set on Paul.
I had all the Beatles’ cards, albums, posters and magazines. I wanted desperately to travel to New York City to see them at Shea Stadium. But my parents nixed that idea fast. I think the real reason I ended up leaving my small hometown in Upstate New York was because of the photos I had seen of the group fishing out of the window of their hotel room at The Edgewater Inn. What could be more fun than that?
Alas! Times change, the Beatles have long since dispersed, and Paul is engaged yet again to someone not me.
I’d feel even worse except for the fact that Sir Paul and his fiancée Nancy look so gosh-darn happy and head-over-heels for each other that it’s hard for me to hold a grudge. But, remember, Sir Paul, if you ever want to drop me a line, feel free to leave me a comment here, just sayin’ . . .
Who was your favorite Beatle, Wanderboomers? What are your favorite Beatles’ memories? Songs?