Maybe I'm Amazed (1976)

 

With the Got Back Tour 2025 coming to an end, I have enjoyed seeing everyone who has attended concerts review on YouTube and Social Media.   It has been fun to see fans experience the show in different cities.    

I thought it would be just as fun to go back almost 50 years and see how one fan experienced seeing Paul with Wings at various U.S. cities on the Wings Across America Tour.    I notice a LOT of similar things in her accounts and today with one big exception. 

Maybe I'm Amazed

By  Kathy Meyer

With a Little Help From My Friends

Issue #15 --  July 1976

    Trying to write down a coherent account of what happened to me in the last couple of months is bordering on the impossible, because as I sit here at the typewriter and attempt to put everything into perspective, I can't help stopping repeatedly to convince myself that it all really happened. 

    Upon hearing the schedule for Paul's tour, I quickly made arrangements to see him all three times that he was to be in New York, only to find out that the tour was postponed. When the new schedule was released, I tried unsuccessfully to get some answers from the ticket office at the Garden (for the last time. Miss. We don't have any word on the Paul McCartney tour! Nothing! Click.) "Lovely", I thought.

     And then suddenly they were all sold out. "Lovely", I thought again, with tears of anger in my eyes. I felt frustrated and cheated. I decided to just forget about all the hassles I was going to run into by trying to scalp for the New York shows and concentrated on the Philly shows. 

    This was the beginning of my incredible luck in getting tickets. Two very nice girls who didn't know me from Adam were kind enough to get me a ticket each for both nights. While further south, my great friend Pauline secured me a ticket for the second DC show. (At this point, I was going to say yes to anyone who offered me any tickets.  Alaska?  I'll take it! How much?)  After a minor trauma in Philly with a hotel room (I figured $20 tops per night, and brought $40 to cover it, expecting to bring home some change, $34 for one lousy night!)  I was all set. I ran up to my room and ordered three rum and Cokes.

     After being told by every nice person in Philly which (wrong) bus to take to the Spectrum, I was finally there. I met a lot of really nice people outside, and soon sold the mezzanine ticket I had for a 12th row center one. 

    When Paul came out, I didn't move, I didn't blink an eye. I just sat there, and then it all hit me at once. I jumped, I screamed, I cried, I laughed, I cried and cried and laughed some more. I couldn't believe the feeling that came over me. Here was the last Beatle. The only one I never have seen in concert. Here was Paul McCartney.

     As the show continued, I thought of how ridiculous it would be to see him only a few times. I suddenly vaguely minded even the idea of Paul doing a show without me there. So right then and there, I decided to follow him as far as any money would take me, which wasn't far, but who cares I was going!

     The second show was even better, the one in DC, better yet, although for the DC show, Paul rushed through it a bit. Because it was general admission, there was no way for the guards to control the audience, and there were tons of frantic people trying to get to Paul, discounting the 10 or so odd people under them.  Well, oblivion does strange things to normal, sane people.

     Back home again, and I found it fairly easy to find tickets for the New York shows, provided one had a rather large bank account. Several of the offers I got for tickets came from people I met in Philly and it turned out that I did get my tickets from a guy from New Jersey that I met there.  Two 12th  row seats for the last night at the garden. $75 for the show, doubled the night of the concert. I got to Jersey faster than hell and got the tickets.  The Garden 12th row !!

    Philly was the first time that I'd ever seen Paul close up as he drove in the second night. And it was amazing that I was so thrilled to see him. I knew that I would go crazy, but I really had a hard time containing myself. It was just so exciting for me, and I was fortunate enough to see him in New York as well. Although it was only a fleeting glimpse as he went by, it was, for me, a great, great thrill.

     I had to miss the show in Uniondale because I'd spent too much money on the Garden Show, and this was also the case for the first New York show. But I didn't mind. I went and stayed outside and just waited for the finale. From the minute Paul stepped out onto the stage, the place was wild. It actually shook from so much emotion. When a New York audience loves you, they want you to know it. And Paul knew it and loved it. What a ham. 

    Then it was back home again to tell my parents that I was, you know, leaving for a little while. I was kind of going to follow Paul for a little bit. And very surprisingly, they were really cool about it. The only question they had about it was, how was I going to, you know, fund this sort of thing? Well, I told them I'd figure it out.

     On Friday, June 4, I was off to Denver for the show on the seventh at the McNichols Sports Arena. My cousin and I set out early in the morning, and it was one big party for us the whole time, except for the flat tire we got on the first day. We got to Denver via the Worlds of Fun in Missouri, which is kind of like Disneyland. We spent all day Sunday riding roller coasters. 

    There was quite a difference in the show on Monday night; they were jamming more. Paul was a lot looser and seemed thoroughly relaxed. The audience loved this. I'd heard about the "mellow mountain people", and if this is the case, then most of the people in the place were imports, like us. The whistling never ceased, and the place was rocking. And needless to say, Paul didn't mind it all one bit, dancing around, jumping, making noise. He was like a little kid. It was too much.

     It's important to note that through all the concerts I saw, Paul's voice never faltered. He was always in top form, smooth and beautiful. It was incredible to listen to him go from a rocker like "Magneto" into "My Love." There was no cracking whatsoever. One of my very favorite songs every concert was "Maybe I'm Amazed." That song, without fail, makes me cry every night. I just love the way he sings it. He was so into it. His voice is just so perfect. 

    The next shows were in San Francisco, and were some of the best that we saw. They were very thrilling and a lot of fun. The weather was really nice, and this was in direct contrast from DC, where it was rainy and generally lousy and I had to sit out in the rain. Because DC and San Francisco both were general admission, and then went into the hall, smashed, wet, and anxious. Well, many people got sick in DC. San Francisco was great, though. Everyone was very together and friendly. I was really enjoying myself. 

    The Cow Palace had a stampede that first night and then again on the second night. In particular, after "Yesterday", everyone started to stamp their feet, and the sound was deafening. They put in bleachers for the sides, and no one sat in them. Everyone was up for the entire show. It was fabulous. Everyone had so much energy. 

    It got so wild that Paul didn't come out for an encore the second night. Just as he was turning in to the mic to introduce the horn section, some girl who was trying to get up on stage to give him a gift, knocked the mic right into Paul's mouth. It quite obviously upset him. He was taken completely by surprise. He was shaken there for a bit. His mouth was bleeding. He had to grab a towel for that. But true to form, he turned right back to the audience and gave us a giant grin, and went into the intros and then "Letting Go", which he did so seductively that, you know...

    I miss "Soily", though, what a song! That baseline in that one is incredible! Paul is the most underrated bassist in the whole world. Let's hope this tour has put him in his proper place as the best bassist in the world, a title he richly deserves. It has been said that Paul's face has, to an extent, been to his detriment because he has been overlooked as far as his musical capabilities go. And this is tragic, since he is so great at what he does.

     Tucson was the strangest concert I've ever been to in my whole life. To this day, I still cannot understand what the hell happened in there. First of all, I hated the concert hall. There are bright lights blazing on us for the whole show. Since the outside walk around (where you go to the bathroom, get food, and find your gate) was not separated by a wall from the actual rotunda, it was a drag for anyone who was not on the floor. This made everything seem pretty impersonal, and it really bothered me.

     When Paul came on, though all seemed to change. Everything was all right, and we were all set for the show. I've been wondering what would happen here, because it was his birthday, and Paul put an end to all my anxieties. As soon as he finished "Jet", he stepped up to the mic, said "hello and welcome", and then said "and happy birthday too". I collapsed. What a typical McCartney statement, not making really much sense, but everybody knew what he meant. And a big cheer went up. Denny stepped up then and said a big happy birthday to him, and started to sing it, at which point we all joined in. The song never got finished, though.  Paul was too excited, and he started right on to "Let Me Roll It". He was so cute. 

    Later on, Denny declared "Time to Hide" as Paul's birthday song, and another huge cheer went up in the crowd. It was so much fun, I felt like I was sharing his party with him, and what a feeling to spend his birthday with him.

     Now comes the strange part. After "Band On the Run", quite a few people got up to leave. I was just staring at them in total bewilderment. And by a few people, I mean several 100. I couldn't believe it. I heard one guy say that he really thought the show was great. "Oh boy, what a show!"  Didn't he know? I thought. And then when they all came back, there was a crush of people running to get back in to hear the encore. It was just too much. Then after "Hi Hi Hi" many more started to leave. Really, a lot of people started leaving. Several 1000, I would say, they just didn't think there was any chance of him coming back. It was so weird at this point, and no offense intended to the people of Tucson, I started thinking, "Well, no wonder JoJo left this place. Where the hell are these people going?"  And then they came back, and everyone started to scream and run back again. What a comedy! It was too funny to believe, but it really happened, and I was stunned.

     It was a great show, though, and it was so special because it was Paul's birthday, and there was just a really good feeling in the air.

     LA was next, and the Englewood Forum really outdid themselves. When we got there, the news teams were already there, interviewing people. The tickets were going for unbelievable prices, and the newsmen were freaking out about it. I was going to tell the guy that I came all the way from New York to see Paul, but I knew that would get me on TV, and I'd had experience with that at the first New York Beatlefest, and it scared the hell right out of me. You don't realize your true idiotic potential until something like that happens. (Why did you come here today? Uhhhhh?) It was awful, and I stayed as far away from cameras as possible. 

    They had a giant balloon on top of the Forum to welcome Wings, and they had marching bands there who circled the arena many times for each show. They even had huge spotlights that, when it got dark, were positioned so that they made a W. It was really very nice. 

    There were tons of famous people there, too. They had a big star entrance and everything. It got rather sickening, though, the cops put up a blockade so that we, the fans, couldn't get by. And they made us go through a couple of side entrances where the lines stretched and stretched. Several people missed the first songs because the lines were so long that they couldn't get everyone in on time, and they were already going to be starting well after showtime. And this even includes the half hour that Paul provides for his typical lateness. 

    Also, most of these stars, most of whom no one recognized, were rather rude and crass and turned me right off. Then there were the real recognizables, Sally Struthers, Michael Douglas, Rod Stewart, David Jansen, Leslie Uggams, Jack Nicholson, to name but a few. The real treat came inside. The first night, Kim and I, and don't ask me about my luck, managed to get David Bowie's seat right next to where Paul was. What luck! It seems that David Bowie either had to leave town or never got back, and so he never picked up his tickets. And some guy from the Forum came by and asked us if we needed tickets. And it was as simple as that. He took us by the star entrance, and we laughed at the drunk women and their minks trying to stumble out of rented limos. We paid him cost, and then we were led right in. So we got past the mobs.

      When we got in, Kim went to get us a beer, and as I looked around, there were several 1000 people starting to descend upon one little area. After a few seconds, this little man comes bounding out. It was Ringo!!  I don't know what happened. I started to scream, but it didn't matter. Everyone else was too. It was fantastic. He sat right across from us. I was just standing there, stunned, and no one was there for me to grab. Poor Kim, when she came back, I stood up for the longest time. Everyone else had already settled down a bit. I just kept waving to him. And finally, the girl he was with saw me and nudged him. He looked over to me, smiled, and gave me a great big wave. That was it. For me, I was totally satisfied. I had really gotten just about everything, and couldn't have been happier. 

    Next, right next to us, came Elton John, looking disgusting. He was shorter than you would imagine, fat, and very pale-looking. And guess who was with him? It was Cher! We just laughed and laughed. What a scene. The whole place was jumping around at the sight of someone. Paul must have heard it. He came dashing out. No one was going to steal his show. I really think he might have felt that way. He's so insecure sometimes, even after his fabulous reception.

     I should say here that at the San Francisco show, no one sat behind the stage because it was general admission, and so everyone was crowded down on the floor. Paul, when he went to the piano and sang "Maybe I'm Amazed," looked up and seemed a little sad for a minute because he saw no one there, like there was a mass exodus or something. But then a big smile came across his face, like he knew where they all were. It was so sweet. It's one of the cutest moments of the whole tour. I kept wanting to tell him he'd sold out the place. What are you worrying about? Everyone is here anyway.

     So many memories are getting in the way of the story here. At the end of the first show, Rich got up on stage, to Paul's surprise, and gave him a giant bunch of flowers. They hugged and then walked out arm in arm. It was a high point for me.

     Strangely enough, that was to be the last show for us. The tickets were just too expensive, and we still had to get home. I was very, very sad that I didn't get into the finale, extremely sad. Then I thought about all the good luck I had and how selfish I was becoming.

     We hung out both nights, got smashed out of our brains trying to rationalize it all. It's okay. We saw the best shows anyway, and then we left. We were on our way back home. It was the best trip of my whole life, and I won't forget one single minute of it, not ever. Paul's supposed to be putting out a live album of this tour by Christmas. But knowing Paul, I have to ask him, which Christmas is it going to be?