You Can’t Make This S&!t Up

Whenever I get into a 3 – way conversation with a man I’m proud to call my friend, Scott Taylor, I invariably ask the third person, “What’s the first concert you ever went to?”

It’s not a bad conversation starter anyway, but I’m teeing up Scott for victory as his first concert was The Beatles on Ed Sullivan – period, end of story, check please. As mine was The Carpenters at Westbury Music Fair (I keep telling myself that my parents meant well, “Look Howard, it’s in the round! The stage is turning!”), I’m dead to rights before the conversation begins.

Scott even has proof, as a recent compilation of all The Beatles appearances on Ed Sullivan has been released on DVD, and if you don’t blink on the last appearance in 66, you can see Scottie, his sister and his grandpa (bless his soul) in the audience. Actually they’re relatively easy to pick out, being the only three people in any shot that aren’t girls between the ages of 13 – 20 screaming their heads off (Scott’s sis was 8 at the time).

So it was a “Circle of Life” moment when his oldest son Alex got tickets to David Letterman (prephilandering exposed) and unbeknownst to him, it just happened to be the night Paul McCartney was playing live, on the top of the Marquee, with Alex easily spottable in a lime green T near the front of the crowd. It seemed that serendipity had struck, with Alex seeing the essence of what his dad had seen, the most popular musical group in history, in the same place, 43 years later.

Serendipity, shmerendipity. Fast forward about three months to a trip that Alex and Scott just took across the pond to what for them was really jolly old England because;
- Scott was going on a business trip for a week and got to make it a father/son excursion
- They went to see first cousins, as Scott’s folks are from the UK and had migrated to the U.S. as youts*
- On their first full day in London, they walked into a restaurant and sitting there was…Sir Paul!

What I would have given to see their faces as they recognized him, went up to him and shared this story, and as they walked away (he wouldn’t take a picture, didn’t know Scottie from Adam, didn’t want where he frequented to be publicized) overheard him say to one of his grand-kids, "Did you hear that! Did you hear that!"

* Not a typo, just homage to Fred Gwynne in “My Cousin Vinnie”



If you’ve got another example of real life kicking the crap out of fiction, let’s hear it!