DATELINE: Tuesday, September 24, 2013
LOCATION: The Broad Stage, Santa Monica, California
EVENT: 23rd Annual “Simply Shakespeare” - The Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles presents “The Two Gentlemen of Verona”
I was dating LA resident Stephanie Blank who worked part-time as the head volunteer usher at the Broad Stage in Santa Monica. She called me to tell me that a private fundraiser was coming up to support the Shakespeare Center and she could bring in whoever she wanted to help support the event. She asked if I’d be interested in attending.
YAWN.
Then she said Paul McCartney would be the featured guest.
WHAT? OMG. I couldn’t book the flight fast enough.
When I arrived, we went straight to the theater where rehearsals were underway. About 20 or so big-time moneyed donors had paid thousands to watch the rehearsal and sat in the audience totally star-struck. A small house band played from the back of the stage, undoubtedly freaking out as to their good fortune.
The actors were perched on stools front-of-stage doing a read-through: Martin Short, Jason Alexander, Christina Applegate, Tom Hanks, Rita Wilson, Val Kilmer, William Shatner and Eric McCormack (Will of "Will and Grace," more on him in a moment).
And Paul McCartney. As in the Beatles. The most famous person in the world. As part of his gig for this event, he wandered over to the piano and began playing “Let It Be.” Stef and I wept. Because it was Paul McCartney and he was RIGHT THERE, not 15 feet from us.
A somewhat short fella came up to me (everybody’s somewhat short to me), built as solid as a cigarette machine, stuffed into a gray suit that did nothing to hide his muscularity. Marine-like haircut, rather grim demeanor but when he opened his mouth, surprisingly friendly, even though there was no mistaking that this was a guy you didn’t wanna mess with under any circumstance.
In a murky Liverpudlian accent, he said, and I swear to you this is true, “You look like a stout lad, how about you be on stage as we bring in the donors for a few pics and then you shuffle them off?”
“You … you … want me on stage with Paul McCartney?”
“Izzat a problem?”
“Absolutely not a problem,” I replied, being a stout lad. “Glad to help.”
So I did. And all these big shot donors who’d paid thousands to have their picture taken with Paul onstage came under my stout wings (haha, his other band, get it?) and I escorted them to the exit.
When I returned, cigarette machine man saw me and said, “Oy, nice job, let’s bring down the cast because Paul may want to play a few tunes, stick around. If you like, of course.”
At that, I laughed out loud. He grinned. We’re mates now, maybe head to the pitch after and then sink a few pints at the local, whot?
So as the stagehands start clearing the stage for A BEATLE, here are all these professional actors who are supposedly well-versed in what to do onstage, clueless about what’s next.
I got on stage and waved at all the stars and said, “Y’all, this way, let’s take seats, shall we?”
So I led them down the little stairs and they clustered around me like chicks to a mama hen. I was shocked … SHOCKED … at how small they were. Val Kilmer? Batman? Six foot, my ***. Barely came up to my shoulders. Except for Eric McCormack and Tom Hanks, who were just a couple inches shorter than me, they were all surprisingly tiny.
Eric, by the way, was super-cool. After the show, I ran into him in the lobby and congratulated him on being an outstanding emcee. Which he was. He didn’t blow me off at all. In fact, he stopped and we chatted about the challenges of being on stage with all these big shots and he was funny, humble and gracious. Great guy.
In any event, back to the action. I did my usher thing and got everybody seated and then, bravely and perhaps a little cockily, went back up on stage and stood in the wings. Cigarette machine man saw me, I motioned “cool?” and he gave me a thumbs up and another grin.
Paul – I’m on a first-name basis with him now because I’m his protector – strapped on a guitar and said, “Let’s have some fun.” He ran the house band – who all looked like they’d just been asked to play with a Beatle – through the intro to “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” “I Saw Her Standing There,” “Get Back” and a couple others I must admit I don’t remember because I was in such a daze.
He didn’t have to do it. The big-shot donors were gone. He could’ve just said “bye for now” and walked to his private suite or whatever and nobody would’ve begrudged him. There was nobody in the audience other than the cast (and his protector) to enjoy this impromptu gig by a BEATLE
I got the sense that he did it because he was having fun.
AND I WAS JUST FIFTEEN FEET AWAY. Here's my crummy picture from my crummy phone.
People pay hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars to get concert seats near him. And here I am, a mere stout lad, onstage with him and haven’t paid a dime.
He was astonishing, by the way. Great singer, guitar player, never-ending stage presence, totally professional, yet joking around and hitting a bum note now and then (probably deliberately) just to show he’s human.
As he finished, all these big-time movie and TV stars gave a rapturous response. He smiled as if he’d just knocked out a killer performance in front of 100,000 people. And then he did the Beatle bow.
Are you kidding me? Weeping. Again.
He exited stage right, exactly where I was. Stephanie was motioning me to say something to him, to maybe shake his hand, but I chickened out. It’s Paul McCartney, for God’s sake.
Instead, I just said, loud enough to be heard but not yelling, “Thank you, Sir Paul.”
Without breaking stride, Paul McCartney looked me directly in the eye, smiled and said, “Oh no, young man, thank YOU.” And he nodded his head at me and was gone.
All you need is love, indeed.
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