In the summers, I work at an amusement park. Right next to the amusement park is a concert venue where, throughout the year, well-known (and less well-known) musicians and musical groups perform. Just recently, Paul McCartney was one of those musicians. On my way to work that evening, I ran into a rather ridiculous amount of traffic (I can't imagine more if God himself was going to put on a folk concert with Bob Dylan). My usual twenty minute commute took two-and-a-half hours. I had planned ahead and assumed that it couldn't take much longer than two hours to get there. Consequently, I was late.

After my shift, I was walking out of the park and to the employee lot hoping that the concert was not yet over. I was in luck this time, the concert was very much still going on. Once I had left the medium-sized roar that typically exists in the confines of the amusement park, I could hear the gentle piano accompaniment to "Let it Be." From the park's roar, I was walking into a warm blanket of music that could only be created by a singer performing a song he had written about his mother. I'm not entirely sure if there was other sounds besides Mr. McCartney but regardless, they did not impact me while I walked through the soft, thick air emanating from the arena stage.

I found myself almost at my car when the song ended. Briefly, Mr. McCartney spoke but I couldn't hear what he was saying. When he finished talking, he started playing the song "Live and Let Die." Accompanying this song were fireworks perfectly timed with the music. It was a different experience than "Let it Be" but still powerful.

Alone in the parking lot, I decided to take out my phone to record part of this song and the fireworks. The second I started looking at the phone's display, something seemed wrong. I looked away from the phone at the show in the distance and then back at the phone. The camera could not begin to document the situation in which I found myself. Looking at the edges of the stadium, I saw other people holding up phones to try and catch a glimpse of Mr. McCartney on stage. However, I thought about how in their desire to document this experience for future reference, they never lived the experience, they just documented it. I decided to put my phone away and just watch the rest of the song. Once it was over, I decided I had spent to much time sitting in the employee parking lot and it would be best for me to leave. As I was left the still full parking lot and headed home, the sound of "Hey Jude" slowly faded away.