...There Is A Band Called Climax Blues Band. And They Rock.

If ever I had been transported back to the 1970s on a cold, winter morning, I can say it was certainly today, thanks to a band I had never heard of and a 38 year-old song that I knew nothing about.

I had thought that my classic rock band and song discovering days were long behind me, but lo and behold, a rocking classic recently came out of the mist and into this writer's life.  And when I say out of the mist, I mean quite literally, as you'll see in the music video below.

You can't get much more seventies than this music video.  The mystifying mist, the striped pants, and the fuzzy quality...it's a seventies music video, through and through.

But the lyrics are seventies, too.  These guys are searching for a sign in the middle of the night (as if that weren't already mysterious enough and as if seventies rock bands weren't already rock gods).  It could be a metaphorical sign I suppose but it is indeed a literal sign.  According to bassist/vocalist Derek Holt, those were the days before the band began using tour buses and when they were traveling on the road in a car late into the night and finally saw an old Holiday Inn sign, it meant they could go to bed (thank you SongFacts and Wikipedia!).  I do love historical significance!

And have you ever seen a lead singer of a rock band who rocked out with...not a microphone, not a guitar, not the drums...but a saxophone.  Very cool, in my opinion.

Not to mention it's just awesomely catchy (I kept on looking for a way to take me through the ni-igh-ight).  Take a listen and be transported back to a wilder time.  If I was searching for a hotel in the middle of the night, this would be the song I would be singing.

...Paul McCartney Doesn't Need To Be Young.

It started with an hour and a half of seated anticipation, followed by remixes of Paul McCartney songs and Beatles songs.  Next came the smoke and the soft purple lights.  And finally, the man himself!  Paul McCartney walked out onto the stage with his trademark bass guitar, waving to the audience, and immediately he and his band broke into "Eight Days A Week."

I reacted much as I did the first three times I saw Paul McCartney.  I screamed a bit, then couldn't seem to force any more sound from my mouth so I cried a little instead, and felt completely and undeniably happy (if ever there was a feeling where it felt like your heart had literally sprouted wings and flown off somewhere, I believe this would be it).

Now, in all of the times I've seen Sir Paul live, I've written to people about it, spoken about it, and thought about it, but I've never published something about it.  I believe it's time.  I took my literary mindset along for the musical journey and it sat on my shoulder the entire time, enhancing my experience.  Here we go.

First and foremost, Paul McCartney is seventy-one years old.  What do you think of when you think of a seventy-one year old man?  You may think senior citizen, possible owner of a cane, white hair, and frailty.  Paul McCartney looks awfully good for a seventy-one year old man.  Although wrinkles do line his famous face, his thick hair is a light brown and he has the physique of someone much younger.  I think it's completely safe to say he has much more energy than I, in the way he played nonstop for almost three hours, jumping and singing and moving and grooving.

When I first became a Beatles fan in 2003, I couldn't help but feel very sad that Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr were old.  I had fallen in love with the twenty-something versions of themselves and my thirteen-year old brain could not grasp the fact that they were grandfathers.  I regret to say I often wished them young again.

But on July 9, 2013, as Paul McCartney played and sang and pleased a crowd of thousands at Fenway Park, I forgot about his age.  Or rather, the years fell away from him.  The lines disappeared from his face, his voice sounded better than ever, and when he smiled it reminded me of the younger Paul who I had gotten to know first through CDs, books, and DVDs.  I will never wish Paul or Ringo young again.  While I may often wish myself back into the sixties to see them play then, I've found that I love them both now just as much as my thirteen-year old self loved the younger Liverpool lads.

And so while the years dropped away from Paul as he played, I thought maybe the years dropped away from me, too.  There is something so wonderful when music becomes so familiar to you that you know every word, every guitar lick in that lead guitar solo, and every sounding chord of the bass part.  It's magical to hear a great song for the first time, but even better when you know what's coming; when you know the way Paul's voice will rise an octave on the next chorus or the exact direction that the guitar solo will travel or the part where he will ask the audience to sing along.  They know it by heart, you know it by heart, and everyone just comes together.

At the risk of sounding slightly clique, I must say to see Paul McCartney live is magic.  He puts on such an amazing show and I believe his energy extends to other people.  Even the most shy people in the audience let loose and start to clap or sing or at least lip sync.  I don't sing in front of people and I don't dance in public.  But I do at a Paul McCartney concert.

One of the most memorable things about this specific concert of his "Out There" tour were the songs he played.  He did, of course, play fan favorites and familiar staples.  But there were a few songs that he pulled out that I would have never expected and he breathed new life into them.  For example, "Lovely Rita" and "Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite" had never been my favorite songs as a teenager.  Although I still loved those songs and would listen to them, they weren't favorites compared to say, "All My Lovin'" and "And Your Bird Can Sing."  But when Paul suddenly pulled them out of his sleeve that night (or rather, out of his band), I was excited.  They sounded phenomenal live.  They sounded brand new.  They deserved to be played just as much as the others.

Furthermore, Paul did two tribute songs; "Let's hear it for John Lennon!" he said before playing "Here Today," and saying the same before playing "Something" for George Harrison.  It has always made me sad to know I will never see John or George alive and so I cannot thank Paul enough for giving me the opportunity to give them each a standing ovation at his concert, although I will never be able to do so at their own concerts.

In closing, another absolutely amazing show by Paul that I feel so lucky to have attended.  I remember the huge banners welcoming him back to Boston, I remember how we got so close to seeing him get out of his arrival car, and I remember the music and the love.

And so, until next time, Sir Paul...

...Oz Has A Cemetery.

The famous yellow brick road.  Magical ruby read slippers that gleam.  A good witch and a bad witch.  Cute and kindly Munchkins.  Lions and scarecrows and tin men, oh my!  The Wizard of Oz, which first made an appearance in 1939 with Judy Garland as its star, has since become a movie classic.

Now, almost 75 years after the land of Oz was epitomized in the 1939 Victor Fleming-directed film, another movie has come out in theaters, ready to whisk viewers away to the magical land once more.  Oz the Great and Powerful, starring James Franco as Oz, stays very true to the beloved 1939 film.  It is a different story altogether, transporting viewers back many years before the events of Dorothy's adventure, and with all of the new movie technology and CG effects, it looks much sharper and fantastical.

But it is, without a doubt, the same land of Oz, and this new film parallels the old.  In 1939's The Wizard of Oz, beginning events of the film are shot in black and white and color is only introduced when Dorothy reaches Oz.  In 2013's Oz the Great and Powerful, the beginning of the movie is also shot in black and white and doesn't become colorful until Oz lands in the land of Oz, via hotair balloon.  In the older film, characters of Oz represent people in Dorothy's life back in Kansas (Miss Gulch is the Wicked Witch of the West, Hunk is the Scarecrow, Hickory is the Tin Man, and Zeke is the Cowardly Lion).  In the new film, characters from Oz also represent the people Oz left behind in his reality (his love interest Annie is the good witch Glinda, his assistant Frank is the faithful monkey Finley, and the girl in the wheelchair he cannot cure is the China Girl who he can fix with glue).  The Munchkins return and when Theodora transforms into the Wicked Witch, her sharp, green features mirror that of Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch from 1939. 

Two totally separate films with two entirely different directors and two absolutely unconnected casts...but the concept is shared and linked.  Yet there is one difference...or rather, addition...that completley floored me.

The land of Oz has a cemetery.

I suppose this fact shouldn't be as suprising as I find it.  In our world, there are cemeteries in every town of every state of the United States and that's not even mentioning the numerous, uncountable graveyards in other parts of the globe.  People die and they must rest somewhere and I guess magical lands are no different.  But to see the tombstones, the various shades of darkness, a witch about to enter through the wiry gates that surround the entire cemetery...I think this discovery could be added to the list of Things That Set Nicole's Imagination On Fire.

Who is buried in this Oz cemetery and is it the only cemetery in Oz?  Maybe it's the main cemetery, the one that is the most occupied and the most crowded.  Perhaps, like the town of Savoy where I live, there are other small graveyards sprinkled throughout the land in the most obscure places; on hillsides, deep in the woods, in backyards, in posion ivy patches.  For certain, we only know one Oz individual who is definitely buried in this cemetery and that is Glinda's father, the king.  We know this because she visits him in the film, along with Oz, Finley, and the China Girl.

But who else?  Perhaps this is where Munchkins and Winkies are laid to rest and kings of past ages and good witches, too.  I have not yet read the books by L. Frank Baum and I know there are many other inhabitants of Oz and so there really are endless possibilities of who occupies this cemetery.  As for wicked witches and evil flying monkeys, they might have one of those hidden graveyards deep in the trees...or no resting place at all.

Now people might think to themselves...okay, Nicole, Oz has a cemetery.  So what?

It is fascinating to me that Oz, with it's Emerald City, Munchkin Country, and yellow brick road, has something as eerie, as necessary, as normal as a cemetery.  The power of creation is adamant here; authors and filmmakers can create all sorts of different worlds with fascinating individuals who have fantastic adventures and still place within their magical boundries things that are ordinary.

I, as a reader and writer and dreamer, love Other Worlds.  I am a proud American, but I love lands that aren't this land, worlds that hold characters who don't dwell anywhere in our world, places where things happen that will never happen here.  Oz is one of those lands, somewhere vastly far away and unreachable, unless you either have a tornado in your near future or a vivid imagination.  Anything that makes lands like these appear more real makes me a happy and fascinated individual.

So, to get to the gist of things, cemeteries are a fact of life and a common occurence on Earth and if a land like Oz has a cemetery, then it is just another link we have to that magical place.  And the more links there are, the more of a connection there is.  The more of a connection we have, the more magic there can be in daily life.

And plus, the cemetery was eerie and beautiful and wonderful.  The perfect place to get chased by evil, flying monkeys.