Paul McCartney Turns 67

Well my heart went boom,
When I crossed that room,
And I held her hand in mine.

The 8 transistor radio pressed to my ear, I memorized every word in the song. Lying on the hill against the frozen grass at the north end of Carl Schurz Park, visions of girls, dancing and holding hands whirled through my head. Had no clue how it all worked, or what I would do, but I saw these things.

It was December 1963, I was nine years old, the Beatles had dropped a bomb in my head that never stopped going off. TV and sports formerly occupied my brain’s whole house but suddenly that year, the master bedroom room was turned over to music and my 45 singles.

“I Saw Her Standing There,” was the first time Paul McCartney’s voice trapped me. Even today, if I stood in front of a jury of my peers, charged with a capital crime, and the foreman was about to read the verdict, if I heard Paul in tune I just might miss hearing,“Guilty.”

I remember missing Pope John XXIII when he died. He seemed like a nice guy, but at least the next Pope had the good sense to take the name Paul. I figured it was only a matter of time before we had a Pope George and a Pope Richard. Even at 9, I knew the church would never allow a Pope Ringo.

Paul’s 67 years old today, the guy’s been cheering me up since 1963.

Happy Birthday, Paul!

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