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Paul McCartney has swept my sweet five-year-old daughter off her feet. (He swept me, too, but that’s not as interesting.)
I’m not talking about a Jonas Brothers-type sweep or a fleeting Justin Bieber crush. I’m talking about the kind of infatuation and mezmerization that comes from spending most of your life (in this case, 3½ of her five years) admiring the talent and work of someone, studying their videos, delving into their private life, and then seeing that individual – live and in-person.
Lyda has been a huge Beatles fan since she was two – sitting in her car seat belting out “Help! I need somebody,” and requesting in a wee voice, “Hear ‘Ticket to Ride,’ please.” She knows their names, knows what instruments they play, can identify them in pictures, and she knows who’s dead and who’s not.
So I just had to take her to see Sir Paul in concert at the Sprint Center last week. And she didn’t even have to throw a YouTube-worthy temper tantrum to convince me. For a “first” rock concert and a father-daughter bonding experience, it far exceeded any of our expectations.
First of all, let’s face it, no matter how old he is, Paul McCartney is just flat-out charming. And his voice is as strong as ever – he can still hit the high notes on Helter Skelter! He played for nearly three hours, and for the entire main set, I didn’t see him take a sip of water. (He must be super hydrated by nature.) And even though he kept saying he was glad to be in Kansas and then carried the Missouri flag on stage, he performed one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen.
I had as much fun watching Lyda as I did watching McCartney. She was glowing and her eyes bugged with wonder and excitement.
To the few naysayers who said I was “wasting” a ticket on her and to the old couple sitting next to us who rolled their eyes as we scooted past them to get to our seats, I say – never underestimate the joy-potential of a child.
Lyda drew more enjoyment out of that evening than most of the people in our section. While they all sat most of the show, she was up dancing to nearly every song. She sang along and laughed and (she told me later) almost cried with joy when the show started. I had the coolest (and prettiest) date at the show.
There were far more people who were thrilled to see a little girl having so much fun. A woman in front of us leaned over during the first encore and said, “I hope you know what a lucky girl you are.” Lyda turned to me and smiled. She knew. About six times during the evening she hugged me and said, “Thank you, Daddy.”
Paul McCartney inspired me to break out my mandolin and learn one of his songs, which in turn intrigued Lyda enough that she picked up the mandolin and started strumming some basic chords. Now, she says she wants to play the mandolin.
And that’s why we encourage the interests of our kids. And if that interest is music, then we take them to see as much live music as possible. And if you get the chance to take them to see their heroes, then don’t let that opportunity pass – even if you have to make some sacrifices to pay for it. The memories are priceless.
“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”
You have just described all three of my kids! Born and raised on the Beatles, Wings, and of course just plain solo Paul (and John), they know more about those artists than most adults. We actually packed up the family and flew to Indianapolis to see Paul's Back in the U.S. tour years ago, but sadly we just couldn't afford five tickets for this concert. The kids stayed home and DH and I went with two friends, and you are so right...Paul can still ROCK it! Funny, I also noticed the lack of water-sipping. And DH and I were even still commenting last night on how awesome it was that Paul didn't shy away from those high notes or screams. Such a gift!
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