I am a Dinosaur

In August, 1964 I was 16 years old, entering my Junior year in high school. Pat and I, along with dozens of other girls from our area, purchased tickets to see the Beatles in concert at the International Ampitheatre in Chicago. It no longer exists. Some of you may recognize it by it's common name of The Stockyards. Yeah, it was where they brought the cattle and pigs in for slaughter. The Beatles had several opening acts. They themselves were only on stage for about 30 minutes. It didn't matter. We were breathing the same air as our idols.

We also attended the 1965 Chicago concert at Comisky Park (the old park), and again at the Stockyards in 1966. When the Beatles released Sgt Pepper, we knew the touring days were gone. There was no way they could reproduce those sounds on stage. And then, it seemed in a blink, they are disbanded. No longer the Fab Four. They were now separate acts, all going their own way.

This group never lost their magic for me. The music, in my opinion, has held up over the past 48 years like no other. What our country was going through was tied into the music, and it all became something more than just listening to records.

Fast forward. Pat emailed me about 6 weeks ago, and said that Chicago was trying to get McCartney to book into Wrigley Field the end of July. To make a long story short, we got tickets at $165 each. I didn't care what it cost, I wanted to see this man perform one more time before I died. I had been a fan since the beginning, I was going out as a fan. Not that either one of us are kicking the bucket that I know of, but you get the point.

Last night was the concert. It was 98 degrees in Chicago, no lake breeze to speak of, but none of us cared. The evening was magical. It was something like 36,000 people sharing music that they knew in their souls, their hearts. We sang to every song. We yelled, we waved, we cheered, and we all left with a very large smile on our faces.

Cost of this weekend? $165 for the ticket, $60 for gas, $40 to park, and $80 for boarding the dogs. Seeing Paul McCartney, live, sweating with us, giving everything within him to entertain us? Priceless. Absolutely priceless.

Wish you all had been there.
Linda