![]() |
Both photos taken by Laurie Ross |
MPL –September 1984
By Laurie Ross
Sometimes trying to locate the elusive Macca can be a
frustrating experience. After three days
of waiting at AIR and MPL, my friends and I decided to take a day off. Being down to my last few pounds, I chose to
stay in London and see how much damage my Mastercard and I could do to Oxford
Street while the others opted for day trips into the country. After an exciting morning of doing my
laundry, I headed down Oxford Street and bumped into a London friend of mine
who told me Paul’s car was parked on a side street near MPL.
I headed there to find the usual crew of fans who had seen
nothing. Everyone always heard that if
Paul’s at MPL, you can see him, so we figured that John (his driver) was using
the car for some other purpose. After 30
minutes or so, I got up to go for lunch, and for some reason had the incredible
urge to take it back to Soho Square with me.
From time to time I glanced up at the building, and on one of the floors
there was some fella waving his arms about – in the same way Paul does. But he did not stand up and I figured that if
he was there, the other fans would have told me.
All of a sudden a figure comes bounding to the window and
waved to one of the fans – well we all flipped!
It was Paul! I stood for the next
25 minutes or so just willing him to peek out the window again, but no such
luck. John came out to bring the car to
the front of the building and we all made a mad dash for the door. As John went in, he warned us not to take any
photos without permission.
After five minutes of hopping around the pavement with a bad
case of nerves, out he comes. The next
five words utter made me cringe, “What are you doing here?”—directed at the
small group of Italian fans. It wasn’t
said with a friendly tone at all. This
was the same group that apparently made Paul’s life such a misery in
August/September 1983. As a “peace
offering” they offered him a Wimpy box with fish and chips in it. He said, ‘Is that my lunch?” as they handed
it to him, then “A Wimpy!” When he
opened it up he said, “Oh, you can keep it, it’s alright. I’m a vegetarian.” One of the girls said, “Since when?” (Can you
believe that?) And he replied, “Since many, many years.” He was asking the Italian girls where they
were from and when they said Italy, he said, “Big Italy.” They asked for photos, and he obliged, so I
asked for one and he said “sure.” I thought,
why stop at one, so while he was busying signing autographs, I kept snapping.
At one point he did a cute little pose for the
Italians. I kept thinking to myself, “Why
is he being so nice to them when they’re such jerks?” but oh well. He was about to get into the car and a fellow
asked him for an autograph, so Paul asked John for a piece of paper and then he
said to me, “Can I borrow your pen?” to which I must have looked stunned,
because he repeated, “your pen?” but by the time I rooted through my purse,
someone else had given him one. I asked
him when “Broad Street” would be out and he replied, looking right into my
eyes, “October 26th in American and like in November here.”
At one point he looked over and saw a German fan standing
there with a glum expression on her face, and he said to her, “Don’t worry, it
won’t happen!” to which she replied, “What?” And he said to her, “Whatever you’re
worried about!”
He finally managed to get away from us all, and I ran to the
one-hour photo lab with my film clutched in my hot little hand.
Once again, Paul McCartney proved to me that there can’t be
a kinder or more gentle man on this earth—he really and truly cares about all
of his fans.
No comments:
Post a Comment