"Going The Distance"

Well, the Thanksgiving run was a success. I completed the run, and in under an hour as I'd hoped. I think my time was just over 54 minutes, which isn't too bad. It would have been better, except my shoe kept coming untied. Every time I had to stop to tie my shoes, my legs would go dead, and I'd have to walk a bit. I could have finished in under 50 if I hadn't had to keep doing that. Ah well--at least I finished. Five miles is the fartherest I've ever run, even if it was sort of in fits and starts.

The rest of Thanksgiving was pretty darn spiffy, too. Beth came over to my folks' place for dinner, and my grandfather managed not to tell any embarrassing childhood stories. And the food...Lord, the food was great. As predicted, I completely canceled out the five mile run. Oh well--I'm allowed to indulge occasionally (the problem being, of course, I tend to indulge regardless and much too often, but that's a different story, really).

I've spent a good part of the evening feeling meloncholy, but I think I know why. I was watching a Paul McCartney Live DVD, and it occurred to me that I'll never get the chance to hear the Beatles live. It saddens me to think that this great music--arguably some of the best ever, regardless of your musical taste--is not something I can experience first hand for the most part. Oh, I can listen to the CDs, and I can go to the Tribute--1964 concerts, and there's even a good chance that I'll score McCartney tickets the next time he's anywhere near me (I'll even kill for them, if need be--I will not be denied a second time). But...it just won't be the same. Though I obviously never knew them personally, the absence of Lennon and Harrison leaves a big hole in my life, it feels like.

That probably sounds a bit hokey, and the next statement will sound even moreso: the music these men created connected to me on a deeply personal level that I cannot even begin to describe. It's as though the Beatles tapped into a deep reservoir of the human spirit and conveyed it to the masses via sound. Equisite, emotive, melodic sound capable of making you experience the whole gamut of human emotions and feelings from happiness, euphoria, and pure joy to saddness so deep and infinite and gut-wrenching that you can't even begin to understand how someone who's experienced the pain they're describing could go on living.

This all sounds rather like hyperbole, I'm sure, but come on--how many people out there honestly don't know the chorus to "Hey Jude," or the tune of "Yesterday?" In fact, I'd be willing to say that "Yesterday" is arguably the finest song ever written, regardless of genre, tastes, or styles. It is a simple, evocative melody that clearly conveys loss, despair, and longing on such a personal level that you can't help but feel for the narrator. And McCartney's vocals are absolutely perfect--just the right pitch and tone to express the sentiment without sounding too whiney, or too tough, or too anything. It just fits. And the whole thing started out as a tune that had the words "scrambled eggs" as a placeholder for the title and lyrics. Pretty crazy, huh?

But yeah, I'm really rather sad that I'll never get to see the Beatles play live. Admittedly, few people did get to, as they only played live shows for such a brief period of time. But even so...that doesn't make it any easier to bear; rather, it seems to make everything more tragic.

The other thing watching the McCartney DVD made me realize is that he is a tunesmith, but not much of a lyricist.

Don't get me wrong--McCartney turned out some very memorable songs with some great lyrics. The aforementioned "Yesterday" comes to mind; and he can crank out a love song that sounds better than anyone else out there, let me tell you. The man has an uncanny knack for writing infectiously catchy pop songs, but his lyrics seem to be an afterthought, tacked on at the end when he realizes, "oh, I need more than just a pretty tune." I'm usually lean more on lyrics than on tune when I listen to music, though I can forgive a slight deficiency in one or the other if its opposite happens to be very strong (for example, I can forgive weaker lyrics if the tune is really, really good, or I can forgive a so-so song if the lyrics are amazing. How else do you explain my love of Dylan?). It all just makes me wish I could write McCartney's lyrics for him. Between the two of us, there would be nothing we couldn't do. I mean, he can still write songs that are amazing, he just seems to have run the well dry when it comes to lyrics. If I wrote his lyrics for him, he'd be gold. Not to mention the fact that he can sing them better than I ever could.

So yeah, if anyone out there happens to be buddy-buddy with Sir Paul McCartney, tell him I'd be more than happy to be his lyricist, and I would work cheap (hell, for the opportunity to join him on tour and to just be around him, I'm pretty certain I'd work for free, or even pay him).

~chaos cricket

Song of the Moment: The Beatles, "Yesterday"