It was 20 years ago today.
Well, maybe not today. But on the day I wrote this story back in 2013… indeed it had been 20 years since Paul McCartney first graced the Winnipeg stage in 1993. Yet it seemed like only yesterday.
It was long enough ago that I was young enough to know that my whole life was still ahead of me. I was ‘bright eyed and bushy-tailed’ one might say, optimistic for what the future would bring. Already enrolled for college that fall, I would start a two-year Creative Communications program that would ultimately lead to an awesome career in the music industry myself.
I can’t help but wonder if all those concerts back in the day played into the eventual path I would choose. Or the path that chose me.
Close enough to almost touch
I remember in the stadium in row 18, right there on the ground. And there he was, right there in front of me. I was enamoured by the presence of Paul McCartney in real life, and the enormity of this moment.
Every song he played was familiar. Some of them I’d first heard as a child through nine older siblings. The rest of them were ‘discovered’ when I became moderately obsessed about The Beatles in my early 20’s. For about a decade, the songs were my own.
Back then, at concerts, there were no cell phones to text friends somewhere on the other side of the arena. You had no idea where anyone else was, and really didn’t care. The only people who mattered were the ones on stage – and those right beside you.
I was with my friend Cathy that day. She loved The Beatles even more than me, and her friendship over the years greatly influenced my own love for the Fab Four. We were young, carefree, and thrilled to be seeing him in person. Both moved to tears by having him merely a few meters away. We could hardly contain ourselves, and in that moment totally understood what Beatlemania was about.
For us, seeing Paul McCartney in concert was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Destined to happen twice.
Two decades for another show
Skip ahead to 2013… once again the Paul McCartney concert tour is stopping in Winnipeg. Again I’m with Cathy for a pre-concert get together. This time we’re a little older – okay, a lot older. Also wiser, heavier, and more wrinkled than the last time Paul came to town. But we loved the music just the same. Probably even more.
We went to the stadium together, parting ways once inside. This time we had different seats – and I knew exactly where mine were. All the way down to the floor, and then right up close to the stage. As close as I could get.
I counted down the number of rows as the stage loomed larger. I could not believe it! This time, my tickets were in row 16. Two rows closer, 20 years older, 30 minutes to show time.
I got to know my neighbours, apologizing in advance for the fact I wouldn’t be sitting down for the next three hours. As I greeted my cohort for the evening – a friend named Jo from Calgary – the anticipation was tremendous. Paul McCartney would be standing right in front of us in mere moments.
Next thing we knew, there he was!! The one and only SIR PAUL MCCARTNEY! He kicked the night off with Eight Days A Week as we jumped to our feet. True to my word, I never sat down for the rest of the night. How I wished we could spend the eight whole days being entertained by him.
While I had no idea where Cathy was, I knew she was loving it as much as I was. This time, we could text, and so I did. “OMG!” was all I could manage. And I knew she’d know exactly what I meant.
Soundtrack of a lifetime
Yes, times were different now, 20 years later. But Mr. McCartney’s music was the same. Timeless tunes, with words we know. Songs we can sing along to. Smile about. Cry with. Each song evoking a unique memory for every one of the 32,000+ people in the stadium.
While I came across The Beatles in my 20’s, I vividly remember Paul McCartney and Wings songs as a kid. My family sometimes spent summer days at a manmade swimming hole and campground called Miami Beach in Manitoba.
It was where I went camping for the first time, learned how to swim, and met my first friend from the city. Where the aroma of charcoal briquettes meant it was almost dinner time, and the hum of mosquitos signalled the sun was going down. Before fireflies magically appeared to light up the night.
It was also where I heard a lot of great music, even though I didn’t really know it at the time. On one side of the beach was a boardwalk and canteen shack. Beside that was a speaker sitting high up on a pole, from which tinny-sounding music would play while we swam, and ran, and spent carefree days.
Memories that take you back
I recall the warm grainy sand on my dirty little feet, searching between slats in the wooden boardwalk to see what treasures might lay waiting. I remember the smell of French fries and vinegar, the taste of sticky fun-dip and warm Kraft caramels, and the sounds of Silly Love Songs and Band On The Run blasting from the speaker.
Those memories are some of the strongest I have from my childhood, and I’m sure it’s because of the music. While I don’t have the greatest memory on the best of days, when I hear those songs I’m instantly transported back to those sunny days at the beach. Which I swear was only yesterday.
Today, that exact same music stands the test of time, and it’s just as awesome as it was 20 years ago, when I was a young adult starting out in the world. And another 20 years before that, when I was a little girl learning to swim at Miami Beach. I’m sure it’ll still be here 20 years from now, and I hope that I’ll still be here, too.
Watching Paul McCartney play for a second time 20 years after the first concert was pretty profound. While the music has stood like it’s frozen in time, he’s gotten older. And so have we. The last time we were in his presence, I was a young woman in my mid-20’s. Now I’m middle-aged. And if there is a next time, I’ll be even older yet. In fact, if it’s 20 years from the second concert, I’ll be just over 64. I hope I’ll still be needed, just like Paul sings.
Older you get the faster time goes
Afterwards, on the bus ride home, I sat beside four young ladies. They told me they drove all day from Thunder Bay for the concert. They were 25 years old – the exact age I was when Paul last played here. Profound indeed.
As they sat there with noses to the phone, texting and tweeting, barely acknowledging each other, I wondered where they were in their young lives. What paths they were on. Were they enrolled in college. Were they starting a career. I wondered where they would be 20 years from now.
I also wondered what they thought of the evening, and being in the presence of music’s most prolific living legend. Did they like his songs as much as I did? Did they know the words and sing along? Was it a meaningful moment in their lives?
I’m sure it meant as much to them as it did to me 20 years ago, when I was their age. The difference is they may not get a second chance to see Paul when they become middle-aged women. Like I was fortunate to have just done.
I hope they realize just how precious this concert was. How special being 25 is. And how quickly the next 20 years will pass.
Yet still seem like yesterday.
