Honestly, Paul McCartney Is Way Past His Prime But I Still LOVED Seeing Him Live

Honestly, Paul McCartney Is Way Past His Prime But I Still LOVED Seeing Him Live

He's a living legend.
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A few months ago, I saw Paul McCartney play at Madison Square Garden, and it was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Even if you were to disregard my own sentimental associations with Paul and "The Beatles," seeing this man is to see a living legend. His importance goes far beyond the numbers.

Yes, "The Beatles" are the best selling band of all time. Yes, they released some wildly popular hits and racked up countless platinum records – but as cliché as it sounds, they've grown far beyond their records.

They are, arguably, the most important influence on popular music – both their early works, with its catchy melodies/hooks, and their latter, more experimental works, redefined rock for an entire generation. Everyone grew up listening to "The Beatles." And if everyone grew up listening to "The Beatles," then so too did the next generation of major artists.

That's why, through my own conjectural interpretation of history, there are traces of "The Beatles" everywhere. Musicians from as far ranging backgrounds as Kurt Cobain and Billy Joel have touted "The Beatles" as their primary musical influence, and you can hear it in their music.

But that's not even half of why my experience seeing Paul was like seeing Lincoln jump out of his portrait and give the Gettysburg Address. This man is more than just a musician – he's an historical piece. Somehow, history has treated "The Beatles" so well that they've become more than just a band from the '60s; they've become a part of the identity of the '60s.

"The Beatles" have grown to embody a decade, and by extension, so has Paul. He was an integral part of a cultural climate that was transforming, cementing himself in such a way that he's become synonymous with '60s counter-culture.

Not only that, but if you were someone who was anybody in the '60s, you probably would have met Paul McCartney. In his presence, it felt as if I was somehow being connected with so many titanic figures from the past.

Finally, taking after my father, I grew up listening to "The Beatles" too. I can recognize any one of their songs instantly. There's an intimate connection I have with their music that I have with few other musicians.

Combine all of that together, and you've got the reason why I was so overwhelmed when I saw Paul take the stage. I was still pinching myself, as if in a dream, when he walked up towards the microphone. Age had taken its toll on him, and there was an inescapable frailty in his appearance; nonetheless, he was sprightly as he clutched the mic and paced around the stage.

He sang his first song of the night, the major hit: "Hard Day's Night." The cheers of the crowd, elicited merely from his appearance, were drowned out by the sound of his voice.

And boy, what a horrible voice did he have. Every high note was a croak, and every sustained one was a quivering mess. Clearly, his vocal range was not what it once was. One might even interpret his performance through a lens of pity, as a man desperately holding on to his youthful passion for the stage, unable to come to terms with the inevitability of his age.

But I would instead frame it in a more positive light, as someone refusing to let age hinder what he loves most.

Either way, it didn't matter to me whether or not he sang like the McCartney of old. It was enough to hear him, in his familiar Liverpool accent, tell us anecdotes from his life in between his songs. Honestly, I would rather have attended a Paul McCartney lecture than a Paul McCartney concert.

The truth is I came to bear witness to Paul, not to hear him sing.

Cover Image Credit: YouTube

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11 Things Psychology Majors Hear That Drive Them Crazy

No pun intended.
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We've all been there. You're talking to a new acquaintance, or a friend of your parents, or whoever. And then, you get the dreaded question.

"So what are you studying in school?"

Cue the instant regret of picking Psychology as your major, solely for the fact that you are 99.9% likely to receive one of the slightly comical, slightly cliche, slightly annoying phrases listed below. Don't worry though, I've included some responses for you to use next time this comes up in conversation. Because it will.

Quick side note, these are all real-life remarks that I've gotten when I told people I was a psych major.

Here we go.

1. So are you, like, analyzing me right now?


Well, I wasn't. But yeah. Now I am.

2. Ugh so jealous! You picked the easy major.


"Lol" is all I have to say to this one. I'm gonna go write my 15-page paper on cognitive impairment. You have fun with your five college algebra problems, though!

3. So can you tell me what you think is wrong with me? *Shares entire life story*


Don't get me wrong; I love listening and helping people get through hard times. But we can save the story about how one time that one friend said that one slightly rude comment to you for later.

4. Well, s**t, I have to be careful what I say around you.


Relax, pal. I couldn't diagnose and/or institutionalize you even if I wanted to.

5. OMG! I have the perfect first client for you! *Proceeds to vent about ex-boyfriend or girlfriend*


Possible good response: simply nod your head the entire time, while actually secretly thinking about the Ben and Jerry's carton you're going to go home and demolish after this conversation ends.

6. So you must kind of be like, secretly insane or something to be into Psychology.


Option one: try and hide that you're offended. Option two: just go with it, throw a full-blown tantrum, and scare off this individual, thereby ending this painful conversation.

7. Oh. So you want to be a shrink?


First off, please. Stop. Calling. Therapists. Shrinks. Second, that's not a psych major's one and only job option.

8. You know you have to go to grad school if you ever want a job in Psychology.


Not completely true, for the record. But I am fully aware that I may have to spend up to seven more years of my life in school. Thanks for the friendly reminder.

9. So you... want to work with like... psychopaths?


Let's get serious and completely not-sarcastic for a second. First off, I take personal offense to this one. Having a mental illness does not classify you as a psycho, or not normal, or not deserving of being treated just like anyone else on the planet. Please stop using a handful of umbrella terms to label millions of wonderful individuals. It's not cool and not appreciated.

10. So can you, like, read my mind?


It actually might be fun to say yes to this one. Try it out and see what happens. Get back to me.

11. You must be a really emotional person to want to work in Psychology.


Psychology is more than about feeling happy, or sad, or angry. Psychology is about understanding the most complex thing to ever happen to us: our brain. How it works the way it does, why it works the way it does, and how we can better understand and communicate with this incredibly mysterious, incredibly vast organ in our tiny little skull. That's what psychology is.

So keep your head up, psychology majors, and don't let anyone discourage you about choosing, what is in my opinion, the coolest career field out there. The world needs more people like us.

Cover Image Credit: Pexels

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?

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Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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