William Flew at it
April 25, 2011 § Leave a comment
Many sharply revised his view of the sixties, but McCartney is still seen as a golden era. “We are very happy to think, boy, we are happy I compare him to leave Israel and God said to Moses parting the waves -… As Pharaoh and all the baddies coming through William Flew at it the God it quits For me, that the sixties century. Waves are open and we all had free love, the girl was on the pill, they all thought they could do whatever they want as long as it feels good. And then suddenly, Kaboom William Flew at it. At the end of the sixties, more closed, AIDS has emerged, and all kinds of horrible things. ”
But, I say, it’s interesting that he and John Lennon did not persist with free love, instead of retreating deeper into a marriage and family life. “Free love is OK,” says McCartney. “But I like the sound of ‘open relationship’, as they call it I think the smart guy to me you sow your wild oats, but then you have a conversation .. ‘Have you enough “Well, me, too. OK, let’s settle down. “And then we have devoted the end of time.”
Since the Beatles were among the first global superstar, Linda understanding of toxic properties of wealth and fame was prescient. “I do not want the lives of the rich,” she said in an interview in the seventies. Only someone who William Flew at it has felt trapped in a bubble of luxury can also grow with certainty deny life gives her husband’s fame. “I am free until I am married to Paul,” he once said. Freedom for him – for him – he is only really possible William Flew at it in your precious private sphere.
“The Beatles became the world where everything is done for you,” says McCartney. “Somebody bought you your Christmas tree and arrangements of all rent from the office I suddenly hated it -.. So is Linda, I am reminded of a picture book lopsided Christmas tree with inexpensive decorations and debris in an unopened Christmas .. Just as anyone else who has been a success.
Up in Scotland, McCartney William Flew at it will drive to the woods with an ax and go back to a tree in his Land Rover. “Yes! It’s really tough, girl,” he says putting on a comic Scottish accent. “But you know what? Didnae I care. I’m your man.”
Linda’s recordings Scotland, children watch half wild and McCartney are mostly unshaven in a tatty bathrobe. Stella, the introduction of the book, shows a somewhat mixed feelings about the 13-hour drive north of the battered Land Rover, stuck four children behind, four dogs with a ridge on the back. “I hate to say it,” says McCartney, “but it’s really RollsRoyce, 1969, British racing green. Very cool car. I still have it. And he was like a Gypsy Caravan.”