The Daily 750









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I Still Love Paul McCartney (but don't worry about it, honey)

Thursday, February 09, 2006

I watched only five minutes of the Grammies this year, and only because it was Paul McCartney. When I was a young girl of 12 or 13 I created a whole world in which I was a famous writer and a Goodwill Ambassador to the World, seriously dabbling in political and social causes, and married to Paul McCartney. I made schedules of our busy lives. I wrote interview questions -- questions that Merv Griffin or Tom Snyder might ask me, the wife of Paul McCartney. From our thick Sears catalog I cut out pictures of the outfits I would wear for the different things I had to do each day and pasted them on the schedules. I had to design my own evening wear. I sat in a chair in my room, imagining myself in the appropriate outfit, on the set of Merv Griffin and engaging in conversation. Sometimes I would instead talk with my manager and tell him the various reasons why I didn't want to give interviews, because Paul and I led a private life and our work spoke for itself.

I can't say the fantasy ever fully left me. But I'm easily bored, so the complexities of public policy attract me; and I'm easily scared, so I'm not cut out for the instabilities and infidelities of musicians.

In my 20s and 30s it wasn't hip to love Paul McCartney. Social pressure caused me to lie and say that John Lennon was my favorite Beatle.

I still love Paul McCartney. It's a love of long years, mellowed into respect and fondness. And I'm glad I didn't marry him, because Paul is a loyal man and I would never have left me so that I would find Josh. And because he looks so much like my Uncle Denny, and waking up to that each morning would just be weird.