When we got to Dallas/Ft. Worth, after driving almost non-stop for over 20 hours, it was already Thursday. April 29th. On the British tour last fall I had learned that Showco, which is based in Dallas would be making all the stage and sound equipment up especially for this tour, and the band would thus logically want to rehearse where all this would be the handiest. So we made Showco’s main office our very first stop. After the front desk receptionist feigned complete ignorance of anyone’s whereabouts, we realized slightly sneakier tactics were required. Going around to the side of the building, George Tebbens, our intrepid driver and cohort, asked one of the workers there where we might find Trevor Jones (Wings tour manager). In Forth Worth “at the hall” was the answer. So we thought we had it cinched then and drove anxiously the 30-odd miles between these twin cities and headed straight for the Tarrant County Convention Center where Wings would be appearing in just a couple days. Once there though Joanna Rakowski (of Long Island fame!) and I had second thoughts about actually coming face to face with Paul McCartney at that very moment. Having just driven all day and al night we looked like two terminal jaundice cases – slightly green, not to mention sweaty, dirty, wrinkled, etc. But try to tell a guy you can’t go see Paul at this moment because you haven’t any makeup on and see if they care. So we just “hid” behind our sunglasses. But all our worries were for nothing, the place was teeming with teenage girls, but they all turned out to be “Future homemakers of America” (one good look at them and I knew damn well they were too clean, straight and homogenized to be Beatle fans! No offense intended but we fans do seem to have that wild look in our eyes that gives us away, you know.)
Couldn’t find a trace of anyone even remotely resembling a member of the Wings crew, so we tried phoning hotels in Ft. Worth, using up over five dollars worth of change with absolutely no luck in locating them. So we called it a night, finally, and prepared to start afresh in the morning.
Back to point A, Showco in Dallas and this time George asks where is Trevor staying and is given the name of the hotel. It’s the Le Baron, Dallas’s “finest hotel”, and it’s just a few blocks away. Wings t-shirted roadies are hanging out in the lobby and the first really familiar face we see is Alan Crowder’s. Remember the reception Mr. Warmth gave us all through the British tour, I wanted to run the other way when I saw him. But he is Paul’s assistant manager so he cannot be avoided for long. Biggest shock tho was he came up with us with a smile and an outstretched hand even. He welcomed us and said, “Come over and see Jimmy” and was about to pull us over to where Jimmy was sitted but was interrupted.
I spotted Thaddeus Richard across the room and went over to say hello. Unlike some of the others who have been carried away on a superstar trip, Thad always remained natural and approachable. He seemed happy to see a familiar face. He told us the band would be rehearsing at 2 in Ft. Worth at “Will Rogers’ Hall” (Crowder had told us he didn’t remember the name of the hall they were using ---cough).
Before we did anything else we went up to the front desk and made a room reservation. Our next priority was to hit Neiman-Marcus in downtown Dallas to buy Paul and Linda the present we had in mind for them. We had a nice bar set gift wrapped there and then bought some yellow daisies and red roses from a corner vendor. By then it was already almost 2 and we still had the 30 miles between cities to drive, plus had to locate this “Will Rogers” place.
The truth is that when we’d started out in the morning we really hadn’t verbalized what might happen to us that day. At first we were absorbed with the immediate problem of finding the hotel they were staying in. I thought we might spend the entire day just driving from one place to another, and when we did find them we had so little time left to get our errands accomplished and get out to the rehearsal hall that there just wasn’t time for organizing our thoughts or being adequately prepared for the eventuality ahead.
But there we wer eat Will Rogers and knew by the guard at the stage door and the two fans chatting him up that we were in the right place. We tried a different door off to the side to see if it might lead right inside, but that was locked at the end of the hall and as we came back and passed a window we saw none other than Mr. Mac C and family trotting right in that stage door. My intentions had been to give him the present and the flowers at the door when he arrived, but that was out. But to our advantage the two fans left, so we composed ourselves and made a straight line for that door. With all of us looking straight ahead and George in his Wings shirt, the guard just naturally assumed we were with the tour and opened the door for us, smiling and nodding “good afternoon.” And that door opened up right onto the stage, but still allowed us some shadows to observe without being observed for at least a minute. The very first sight I had was of Paul dancing in center stage, he seemed joyous and uninhibited; the place was dark and only he was lit up. He kept shouting, “All you rocking hep cats!” over and over! Then other people came into focus and Linda was coming toward us smiling as we held out flowers and the present (peace offerings?) and I saw Paul look up and notice us just as Trevor came striding purposely towards us keenly intent on tossing us out but fast. Paul, looking us all in the eye, put out an arm to stop Trevor and said, “It’s alright, I know them.” And he made some comment about George being superfan, and being everywhere.
Linda was by our side, accepting the present and flowers graciously, all excited that she had been included, “for me too?” she asked. We all moved closer to Paul, still in the center of the stage. George reminded Paul about how he’d followed the British tour, and Paul nodded and shook his hand. Then George said, “Remember Barb, she was there too.” And Paul looked over at me and said, “Yeah, I remember you too,” in his breezy, lilting manner and put out his hand for me to shake too. Then I said, “You remember Joanna.” “No,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve met her.” So I reminded him about her visit on Christmas day out on Long Island. And he smiled, “Oh yeah, the Long Islander!” He shook her hand too. What a cutie!
George showed him the present he had for him, a bird whose eye lit up which he could wear as a pin. He had one for Linda too, and when she put it on the kids asked her why it was lighting up, and she replied, “I’m electric!”
I had brought along some enlargements to give them and took them out to show Linda. On top were the ones of Paul with Joanna and her sister form last December. “Oh yeah,” said Linda, “you got him up from his Christmas dinner, my poor husband, that was pretty nice of him, huh?” She looked up and was smiling. The next picture was an 8x10 of Paul in concert from the British tour. It was a very dramatic pose and she seemed quite impressed with it, asked me who took it and when I said George she replied, “He’s better than Bob Ellis.” That was partly to take the mickey out of Ellis who was lurking behind her, coyly trying to see the photos. Ellis tried to keep it light and joked, “Well I guess I’m out of a job.” Her remark had definitely not endeared him to us.
Linda’s exclaiming over that picture attracted Paul’s attention back again too. Slightly strange sensation to watch him examining his own picture. The next one was of both him and Linda and Lyndsey and I in the lobby of the Glasgow hotel, and when Paul saw that one he looked up at me wide-eyed and serious said, “Oh, you cut your hair.” Like the recognition that was vague before was crystal clear now and he could finally place me and that made him feel more comfortable. That slightly unnerved me, his intent look, so I turned to Linda and said something daft about how I’d just wanted a trim, but they took too much off. Paul was still looking at me and he nodded when Linda said, “You can’t trust hairdressers.” (I thought to myself, this is extremely weird this is Paul McCartney and I’m talking about hairdressers?!? What happens to all those vital things I’m dying to say to him? I suppose for him it beats getting asked one more time about the Beatles reunion). Paul had taken the whole pile of pictures along, “I said, “This is your famous looking up in the sky pose.” He looked up surprised, with a touch of something else in his face, wariness or admiration it was hard to say, but he said, “Yeah, that’s my special pose.” I guess he just didn’t expect me to be on to the fact that he does that kind of pose for fans often, but then he doesn’t know about the grapevine we fans have going!
He gave back all the photos to Linda and I told her she could keep them which she seemed to appreciate. Then Paul asked George where he got his Wings shirt (it was a “Speed of Sound” shirt, yellow with the guy climbing the ladder on the back) and George said from Capitol, and Paul asked him to turn around and model it and told him that they didn’t even have any of those yet.
Since Paul was otherwise occupied and Linda had moved off, I went over to talk to Steve Howard. He said, “you cut your hair!” I’d been sending him the newsletters so we talked about that and also their European tour, and then I asked if we could stay and watch their rehearsal. He said sure, take a seat. I looked around the stage and everyone seemed preoccupied with their own tasks to complete, no one seemed ruffled or anxious about our presence so we moved down to the seats and quietly chose seats in the 3rd row on the left.
At first we were so conscious about somebody minding us there that we kept as still as the proverbial church mice. But nobody paid us any mind so we relaxed and by the time they had all tuned up, turned down the lights and launched into “Venus & Mars” we were leaning forward in our seats totally amazed to be the sole witnesses to this last informal pre-tour rehearsal and trying desperately to drink in every sight and sound. It wasn’t anything like being at the actual concert because without that crowd excitement and tension building up to a busting point something very potent seems missing. Without the screaming, cheering, bustling, applauding and picture-snapping crowd, seeing them do the show was an entirely different experience. Of course the band too was a lot more laid back and low key without that very same audience feedback to get high from. We felt rather odd seeing him do the show without giving him back anything, but three people clapping in n otherwise empty hall would have seemed like an intrusion on their privacy, so we contented ourselves with just smiling a lot at him and each other. Joanna had never seen him perform live yet, so when he bobbed up to the piano and burst out with a very deep and lusty “Maybe I’m Amazed” she gave in to tears and let out some of the pen-up emotions we all had to conceal.
He changed a few words in that song and one line came out, “baby help me to give it to you.” Linda looked around form her organ and smiled at him conspiratorially. Then still on an up-swing he launched into a spirited version of “Mean woman blues” putting himself in an Elvis mood. This was really a surprise because up to this point every song had been straight from the British tours and suddenly there he was breaking up the routine. Then he did a slow song which was unfamiliar to me, but was so pure and sensitive that I was holding my breath throughout it. At first I thought it was an original composition of his that he was trying out, but later I realized it had to be some old classic that was a favorite of his. When it hit me that I’d never hear him do that again I really began to regret not having a tape recorder secrected away in my purse preserving all this.
Eventually there was a break and everyone went scurrying around in different directions. We moved up to the front row center. I don’t remember what everyone else was doing because my eyes were glued to Paul. And he was putting on quite a show whether he knew it or not, and I suspect he did the flirt. Thad was at the piano and Paul was leaning over it to talk to him with his back to us and in his tight blue jeans he swayed back and forth. Quite effective, ah yes…bad for the heart, but quite effective. He also had on a loose fitting red print silk shirt and black slippers with ducks on them. Linda was also wearing jeans and painted t-shirt and Heather, who’s grown into your all-American teenager, was also wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
Stella and Mary were running back and forth trying for everyone’s attention and getting it too. They received countless glasses of Coke, lots of hugs from Robert Ellis and even some chewing gum from Joe English. Joe asked Paul if it was alright to give them the gum, and Paul replied, “Just one or you’ll get me in trouble!” And when the horn section was practicing and the kids were climbing up their legs, Paul remarked, “the horn section has its first fans.” Stella even crawled inside Joe big drum and had a bit of a tantrum about coming out of there until Paul put his foot down. Then they amused themselves by coloring on paper plates, which they brought over to Paul repeatedly for his approval. They’d wait five minutes holding up one of their masterpieces til they’d get a nod from him and move off satisfied.
When they started up again the moved into the acoustic set and did all of those number, but when they got to “Yesterday” and Paul messed up some of the verses the whole thing broke up. Paul didn’t say anything about it at all, but just started singing old rock n roll songs almost to himself at first. Then everyone joined in and it became a jam session, Paul still sitting with his acoustic guitar, Denny standing next to him on rhythm, Jimmy playing the drums, Linda at the organ and Thad on piano, and the other horn players drifting on and off the stage. I took a couple pictures of all this and it shows how Paul’s in the center of it all, comfortable in his chair with legs crossed while Ellis photographs him and Humphrey Ocean sketches, and Heather watches it all. (I’d print them but they wouldn’t reproduce in black and white very well).
They did oldies but goodies for about an hour and a half, some Elvis songs and a lot of Buddy Holly. The titles I specifically remember were, “Maybe Baby” and “that’ll be the day” by Buddy Holly, and “Slow down,” “Crush on you,” ‘Summertime blues,” “Train coming down the line” and “Get a Job.” They were not the most spirited versions I’ve ever heard, they certainly weren’t doing them to get people rockin’, but to work through their own pre-tour jitters it seemed to me. Paul seemed almost withdrawn at times, burying himself in his own music. It seemed pretty obvious that he was filled with a lot of nerves and fears about this big production he was facing. And he was anything but relaxed, loose or natural. He hardly said anything at all to anybody. Once he hugged Stella and kissed her on the lips. One Elvis song he was doing really affected him though, he began to act the part, pretending to be Elvis, and to round off his impersonation he jumped out off his chair and tried to fling his arms out. Completely forgetting his guitar was plugged in and the chord was too short for such gymnastics, he managed only half an Elvis-wiggle before falling back into his chair with a plop. Everyone laughed and it had to be the lightest moment of the afternoon.
When they all weren’t involved doing a specific song, the others might be walking around talking to people, but Paul would stay in his chair and busy himself with his own guitar picking. At one point a man and a woman came in, obviously acquaintances of Linda because she came over to talk to them when they sat down in the front row, but Paul just nodded at them and then stage whispered to Heather, “Who are they?,” and she shrugged. The couple hugged Stella and Mary and then busied themselves taking pictures of Paul, so we figured if he didn’t mind their using flash then we could as well, and took a couple pictures ourselves.
After a while, Trevor came up behind us, tapped us on the shoulder and said, “Not now, but in a little while you’ll have to leave. When the lights go down.” He insinuated that we’d already witnessed a lot more than any fans had the right to. It was obvious we weren’t there with his blessings. Well the lights never did go down so we weren’t about to get up and go, but then he came over again and insisted, saying things were going to “get serious now” with the rehearsal. What we realized when we left is they were going to run through the new “Speed of Sound” numbers and they didn’t want any outsiders to see them do that for some reason. We’d already been watched them for 3 ½ hours, so we certainly shouldn’t have felt bad about missing the last half hour or so they still intended to play. But at first we thought it was arbitrary on Trevor’s part, coming from the grudge we had against us for going over his head in his view to be there at all. And from that day on Trevor was right there blocking our access to Paul at every turn.
We thought of waiting outside for them to leave and thanking Paul for letting us watch the rehearsal and maybe get a chance to take some photos of him, but since it was raining out it seemed more logical to get back to the hotel and try to see him in the lobby when he got back.
Missed him in the hotel lobby and just saw everybody else in the band and on the staff around down there. This hotel had a disco of its own so we went up there for the evening and soon the whole Wings tour was up there, his manager Brian, good old Crowder and Trevor, Paul’s house keeper/nanny Rosie (who was soon up dancing vigorously with JoJo, Denny’s “wife” of sorts). They all had their wives or girlfriends along at this point, Daryl, Joe’s wife was there, and Jimmy had a blonde girlfriend from Scotland along, Trevor had his wife and even Brian had a woman friend (wife?) along. They all took a table right alongside of our, and Crowder in fact was sitting only inches away from me, so after awhile I asked him about that afternoon, if anyone minded us being there. And he replied, “No, if they want you to leave they’ll tell you.” So I asked where they’d be rehearsing next and he told us they’d be moving the rehearsal to the Convention Center and they’d be setting up around 2 or 3 the next afternoon. I asked if it would be alright to come, and he repeated again, “If they want you to leave they’ll tell you.” We took that was an invitation considering it was coming from Old Stone Face himself.
We spent three hours the next afternoon watching them set up, practice running the “Band on the Run” posing film clip, and then after all that time a security guard, one of Concert West’s people came up to us and told us we’d have to wait outside until Alan Crowder could give us special permission to be in there. All the limos arrived shortly thereafter and Paul was actually driving the lead car! He had his hand up in a salute before he even saw who was waiting there. And we were the sole greeting committee he had. We started to going after the cars to talk to Alan but someone must have given the guards a no signal because we were asked to leave. It was never easy to get in again after that first day at the Will Rogers hall, once the Concerts West people came in security was rigid. Everyone had to have a plastic badge with their picture on it or else forget it.
Before we’d gone there we’d had lunch at the hotel with Rosie and she even thought that power had gone to a lot of their heads when it came to security She also talked about how condescending they all are towards the fans and even anyone of them that ever associates with or is nice ot the fans. They hassled Rosie because she was nice to us, insinuated that she was slumming. She was talking about Crowder above all the rest but Rosie is very natural, earthy person and doesn’t have to take that kind of shit so she said she told him in no uncertain terms to “Fuck off” Ten points for Rosie!
We found out for the first time that Paul and Linda and the kids were not staying at the hotel but were living in a plush ranch home not too far away. They had their own swimming pool and horses to ride. And an FBI man guarding the kids at all times. Rosie only went over there at certain times to babysit. She told us so far she hasn’t been able to see any of the signs in Texas and how she and the kids were extremely anxious for a glimpse of real Texas cowboys! So we mentioned that on Sunday we were going to the Six Flags Amusement Park and would love ot take her and the kids along. She loved the idea and said she’d bring it up with Paul, but didn’t think he’d let them go.
One member of the tour whom Rosie would only refer to as “The Tart” had asked her in a negative tone about us the night before and she had replied, “Leave them alone, they’re the fans, they’re the real fans.” Good old Rosie.
We had run-ins or encounters with them all eventually (even found ourselves next door neighbors to Trevor!) and it certainly was an eye opener to the kind of people Paul has surrounded himself with, some so marvelous and so many donkeys.
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