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Every Girl Has Her Paul

Sir Paul himself told the crowd something like, “I thought it was going to be hot here, and you are all wearing overcoats! I should have taken this off (jacket) by now.”  He then held onto the lapels of his jacket, shaking his head while mouthing to the audience, “NO.”  That’s the San Francisco summer for you.  In between each song, he’d do things like a funny chicken-type dance move,  or tease fans with little comments such as, “Yes, I DO remember you!” in a cheeky reaction to a sign (Hey Paul, I saw you in 1964 at Cow Palace, do you remember me?).
While my husband could not believe he was sitting through live performances of Jet, Helter Skelter, and Two of Us, I couldn’t believe I was getting charmed out of my pants by the 68 year old man on stage.  He’s sweet.  He’s completely delightful.  For God’s sake, of course he is.   Now I get it.   Wow, I never realized that he’s, dare I say…. cute????  Can you still call him that?  Well, I think he is.  Prior to the show, I sensed the determination of the older women in their leopard printed heels and girls’ night out leather jackets over tight jeans en route to their front row seats.  There were giddy women (girls) everywhere who were squealing with joy alongside their mates, the same way I completely lost my mind while watching Duran Duran alongside my husband, who was quite the sport.  side note:  Where on earth does all of that energy come from when we stand and scream for two hours straight?

Every woman Saturday night was for a moment, just a girl again.  The girl who thought if Paul only knew her, he would have married her and not Linda (and CERTAINLY NOT Heather).  The girl who for nights on end dreamed with her girlfriends over the kind of glamorous man  she was going to live the rest of her life with.   Fantasy was the road to reality.  Saturday night,  the young blood of every girl of yesterday surged through the veins of the women they are today and the stadium was truly alive.   I loved that.   I love that every woman has that first love, or big crush who will forever make her catch her breath, even 10, 20, or 40 years later.  That’s how  Roger Taylor of Duran Duran still makes me feel, although I am only slightly embarrassed to admit so.  I suppose my mom feels the same when she thinks of Julio Iglesias. I guess every girl has her Paul.

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