Paul and precious baby Mary
Happy 65th Birthday Paul!
He was the considered the most beautiful Beatle. He wrote the prettiest songs, but blew us all away when he ruffed and gruffed it up for "Why Don't We Do It In The Road". He spun killer yarns about raccoons, and the beginning segment of "Band on the Run", is still one of my fave Paul moments.
He can be forgiven for his gawdawful mullet circa 1972 (Lord love Linda for getting a matching she-mullet) and for the "Give My Regards to Broadstreet" movie debacle, because, well...he's Paul. And because the beautiful brilliance of "Mother Nature's Son", "Blackbird", and "I Will" together will cancel out any ickiness and syrupy sentimental rubbish he has thrown our way ("Michelle, ma belle, sont les mots..." EWWWWWWWWWWWWW).
But then again, that sweet and sappy McCartney-esque approach was such perfect foil for the more caustic and cynical twists of Lennon.
Damn, it's so hard to find fault with our doe-eyed Macca.
Well.. Heather Mills. Not such a good move, Paul. The one-legged gold-diggah tried to sully your forty-five year legacy.
The Maharishi may have been disingenuous, but unlike Mizz Hussy-on-a-Stick, he didn't do a press tour when Paul left him.
Many happy returns Paul, thank you for reminding me everyday:
"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make"
Sigh.
currently listening to: Paul McCartney, Ram
