Sunday, the one and only Andy Rooney sat down and did his last essay for 60 Minutes. The show itself brings up memories of my mom making dinner with this on in the background. And it wasn’t until I was much older that I began to appreciate Mr. Rooney’s words of wisdom. This past Sunday was no different.
This past Sunday and Monday, one Sir Paul McCartney graced Wrigleyville with a concert at Wrigley Field. After a fun-filled birthday weekend, me and a few gals decided to cap off my entry to the 26th year with the Sir.
Emily and I headed up to Wrigley early and were greeted with Sir Paul’s caravan. As soon as he emerged from the car, 60-year-old women were seen jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their lungs and in tears. Most even had signs holding up. Grown men were running down the streets trying to catch a glimpse of the man himself.
Once we got a table, we weren’t sitting inside Wrigley, we ordered some beers and heard Sir Paul’s sound check. We immediately got goosebumps and didn’t talk to one and other as we didn’t want to ruin the moment. It was amazing.
It was also hot. Insanely hot. Thankfully, the sun hid behind a building and Sir Paul hit the stage right before 8:30. He played over 30+ songs, which is just insane. And he played every song you would ever want to hear. I must say, “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” brought tears to my eyes. Being with some of the best gal pals a girl could ask for in a city that I absolutely love while singing along to such a carefree song on a hot summer July night was so fantastic.
I learned on this night, that I sincerely hope I’m rounding up a gang of gal pals for a night in Wrigleyville where we just act crazy when we’re over 50. While the throngs of people were quite diverse, I found myself pulled to those groups of 7 or 10 women who clearly, came in from the suburbs and left their husbands and children at home to fulfill this lifelong dream.
We will be them. And if Sir Paul’s performance was any sign of his stamina, he’ll be there too.