Saturday, June 17, 2006

What could they both have in common...
Heather McCartney and a Wirehaired Terrier?

Well, for starters, I am sure those with more adventurous sentiments would say that "they are both DOGS"...but I won't tolerate any of that in this here blog. I won't. But, in the days to come, when it comes to soon-to-be-ex Paul, she won't need him, and she sure won't feed him when he's 64...which will be THIS SUNDAY.

And now, kids, it's Storytime! When I was a lad, we had the friendliest-ever Wirehaired Terrier, and his name was "Chester", like the hopalong character on the old Gunsmoke TV show. We got Chester from some kind of shelter. Chester had broken his leg before we got him, and he limped around the shelter, and noticed when he limped, he got petted more. And he would occasionally limp even after his leg was well. He liked the attention. Wirehair Terriers are known as fairly aggressive dogs, but Chester was a kid's true friend. I have a memory of sitting with him on the lawn when we lived up on north 12th here in Coeur d'Alene. I would sit there in silence, and Chester sat beside me, sniffing the breeze. That particular memory comes from about 1966. I'm not even sure why I remember that, but I do, and always will.

Every spring, though, when it was evidently dog-mating-season, Chester would run off, and we always had to go find him. I remember finding him about a mile from our house. I was on my bike, and I rode that distance with one hand on the handlebars and the other clutching a quivering, feverish Chester. It's a wonder I didn't fall and kill both of us. One year, we tied Chester to our clothesline. One of those yellow plastic-coated marine ropes was used. During the night, Chester was going crazy, running around in circles. The marine rope knotted up, and Chester basically hung himself. So sad. Because most of the time, Chester was a cool dog. We were lucky if we heard him bark twice a year. He was really special.

A while after Chester's passing, our family got another wirehaired terrier, named "Laddie". I guess Dad thought, "Chester was such a good dog, I bet Laddie will be just as good." WRONG! Laddie would bark all day long; whenever I was playing Frisbee with someone, Laddie would leap up, grab the frisbee, and run all over the place with the Frisbee clutched in his jaws, and it would take us half an hour (at least) to catch him. Laddie was very aggressive, very high-strung, and just a "bad little kid" of a dog. In terms of temperament, our dearly departed Chester and Laddie were different as night and day, even though they looked pretty much the same.

So I wrote all of the above to get to this part of the post...Paul McCartney married Linda in 1969; say what you will about Linda, but she was obviously a soul-mate for Paul. She supported him, played in his band after Paul patiently taught her keyboards, and they were hardly ever apart. In fact, it's hard for me to listen to the Wings' song "My Love" because it was written about Linda, who passed away in 1998. It is almost "too personal" of a song for me to hear anymore. Paul wrote the Beatles' song, "Two Of Us" (on the "Let It Be" album) about Linda; it seems that whenever Paul and Linda would go for a drive, Paul would get uptight and try to organize everything, and Linda would just say, "let's wing it and just go somewhere and have an adventure". And they did.

Linda passed away, and Paul was sort-of "lost" for a good long while. A couple of years later, though, at some sort of function, Paul ran into Heather Mills. She was blonde, like Linda, and if you read your Beatles' biographies, they'll tell you that Paul always had a thing for blondes. Maybe Paul was lonely; maybe the sight of Heather lit a spark inside him, and so after a while, Paul married Heather, in spite of objections from his family. Well, Heather was outspoken; the English Press does not like her at all, there's all kinds of allegations about her past, she is loud, outspoken and aggressive, and she had been expressing jealousy and disdain over Paul's fame, and she evidently insulted his songwriting, from recent things I've read. She didn't give a tinkers' damn that Paul was once a Beatle. Well, I'm a musician (sort-of) and when people "diss" my music, I get really depressed. So I can imagine Heathers' comments didn't make Paul very happy.

Paul turns 64 on Sunday. Congratulations, Paul; you MADE it! He wrote "Hey Jude", my most favorite song ever written. Paul isn't usually forthcoming with his emotions; he was always the polite, public-image-type of musician, and he was a real family guy; he proved that with Linda. So for things to get so bad that Paul would divorce Heather, she must have been the next best thing to a wicked witch. I have read so many Beatles biographies and have heard so many of their interviews, I feel like I almost know him. I guess all us foaming-at-the-mouth Beatles fans feel that way. And regarding Heather, "Will He Still Need Her, Will She Still Feed Him"? NO.

What's the moral of all this? Just as two lookalike Wirehaired Terriers aren't alike, neither are all beautiful blondes, or all hippie-types alike. Things are never what they appear to be, I guess. When I sold newspaper advertising long ago, a lady ad salesperson came to work for us. She looked like the twin of Cheryl Tiegs. Just absolutely beautiful. But, she was headstrong, backstabbing, and after she'd been there three weeks, she was telling ME what to do. She even stole a couple of my ad accounts! I had a hard time with that; how can someone be so beautiful and behave so UGLY? And I have worked for hippie-ish, longhaired bosses who were some of the rudest, meanest, shallowest people I've ever met. Lesson #2: I'd always thot all longhaired people were cool. WRONG AGAIN!

Okay, well, it's the weekend, and what with the shape my lower back is in, plus some residual mental fatigue, I'm gonna take the weekend off from blogging. I am sure that cyberspace can live without me for a couple of days. But I have a photo below, an aerial shot of Coeur d'Alene taken in 1950. Take a look at it, and you'll see all of the open spaces that sure ain't open today! you can see Tubbs Hill in the foreground, Best Hill at right, and Canfield Mountain on the right, behind Best Hill. No interstate highway, no rezzort, no overpriced golf course, no condos. Of course, there was no Rock and Roll back then, either. So I guess you gotta take the good with the bad!


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