If Paul McCartney were playing "Mamunia" on his clean-up tour I’d be
interested in going.  Instead, he’s playing for graying baby boomers who remember the Beatles but probably don’t know that "Helen Wheels" was stripped into "Band On The Run" AFTER the fact, AFTER the album was all done.  The bands used to
play for US, the fans.  Now they play for Fidelity.  And the people who use such
a product.

By time "Band On The Run" was released I was done.

Oh, let me tell you, "Big Barn Bed", from the previous record, "Red Rose
Speedway", KILLED ME!  But it was counterbalanced by the execrable "My Love". 
Actually, the closing medley, with "Power Cut", it’s pretty damn good.  But I
didn’t hear it until I purchased the album, AFTER I bought "Band On The Run".

In retrospect, "McCartney" is a classic.  It’s got a feel, an intimacy.  If
only Paul would stop mugging and record something like "Every Night" today. 
But he’s so busy being PAUL McCARTNEY that he can’t.  Back then, he was trying
to retreat from his fame.  Once you’re playing to your fame, you’re done.

"Ram" is not a bad follow-up, reconsidered three decades later.  But we were
used to a higher quality from the Beatles.  The band NEVER released a turkey. 
And although "Ram" wasn’t a turkey, it wasn’t necessary.  It was almost
irrelevant.  It was dwarfed by George’s "All Things Must Pass".

And then came "Wild Life".  I still find it unlistenable today.

So no one expected McCartney to turn the whole thing around, to get BETTER! 
I didn’t buy "Band On The Run" the day it came out.  It was only after reading
the fantastic reviews that I took the plunge.  I played that album at full
volume in my dorm room in Starr Hall all January, as I didn’t write my thesis.

Eventually I got my paper done.  And graduated.  And recorded twenty six
cassettes to travel out west in my brand new BMW 2002.  I’d still drive that car
if I had it today.  If it hadn’t been totaled at a light by a drunk driver on
St. Patrick’s Day ten years later.  THAT was a car.  All performance and no fr
ills.

And driving cross-country, I heard my recording of "Band On The Run" quite a
bit.  And when the season at Snowbird was done, I trooped out to Mammoth
Mountain in California.  To spend the month of May tearing up the ski area with the
world’s best freestyle skiers.  And there I had an adventure.  You get old
enough and these experiences stand out in stark relief.  Oh, they mean a lot to
you when they happen, but you don’t know yet that they’re so FEW and FAR
between.  You wait for so long for a woman to be into you.  And this one was hot to
boot!  I remember driving around town with her the night before I left,
listening to "Band On The Run".

Oh, I went back to Mammoth to pursue her, but the following day, June 1st, I
drove through the California desert to Los Angeles.

I went back to Utah the next year.

But then I came back to L.A. for good.

I’ve got a season’s pass to Mammoth.  I’d go more if it wasn’t so far.  But,
if this year is as good as last, I’m ready.  All we need is snow.

The legend is true.  It almost never rains in Southern California.  It’s
sunny almost every day.  But, then the skies part, the wetness comes down, it
snows in the mountains, and you feel good.

You wait for it.  The first rain of the season.

I was sitting here listening to my iPod.  Answering e-mail.  But then this
guy wanted me to listen to tracks on his MySpace site.  I removed my headphones,
dialed in the page, turned up the volume, and all I heard was this pecking. 
A rat-a-tat-tat.  I hoped it was the music, because this is the same sound my
water heater makes, when it’s fired up.  Or dying.  And since I had used no
hot water in the past twelve hours or so, I anticipated a disaster.  Yes, the
music definitely WASN’T coming from my computer speakers.

I jumped up.  Went into the kitchen, where the water heater resides.  And
then I realized the sound I was hearing was raindrops hitting the galvanized air
vent in the ceiling.

There was a hint of elation.  My stomach back-flipped.  Snow was COMING!

I opened the front door.  Reached out from under the porch.  And I felt it. 
The rain.

And I started singing "Mamunia".  The opening track on side two of "Band On
The Run".

So the next time you see L.A. rain clouds
Don’t complain, it rains for you and me