Live review: Paul McCartney at Piedmont Park Sat., Aug. 15

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Shortly before Paul McCartney appeared on the Death Star stage at Piedmont Park Saturday night, I carved a path through the huddled, peasant masses on a B-line to the VIP hillside. McCartney’s people know how to do it right, and when the sluggish Will Call attendant handed me an envelope marked &-;VIP,” I wanted to kiss him. Instead I figured I should get to where I need to be.-

Getting through the crowd was an epic journey that felt something like a battle scene from Lord of the Rings. Bodies were strewn about the lawn in disarray as slack-jawed tourists, and weekend warriors of various stripes meandered in a daze of dim eyes and sports T-shirts — torn between getting in line to buy $7 cans of Bud Light or trying to get a jump on porta potties. I made it to the illustrious VIP vista which overlooked the filth and smog of the general admission pit below. There I was treated to a catered tent where they were handing out free beer, wine, hot wings, wraps, brownies and baklava.-

Before the show a co-worker texted me to complain that she had been standing in &-;the longest line in the world” for the portapotty. She was one of the unfortunate commoners on the other side of the great wall (fence) that separated us from them. So I went to investigate my restroom options. The restrooms were actually air-conditioned trailers, complete with attendants, multiple facilities, sinks with soap and best of all, no waiting. There were even private stalls if you needed them. This is truly how the other half lives.-

Seeing Paul McCartney perform is like seeing Beethoven. No one alive today has altered pop culture and rock and roll as profoundly as Sir Paul, and when he started the show with a spot-on performance of &-;Drive My Car” I thought,”hmmm… I am truly in the presence of greatness.”