Le Sequoit

Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me, When I'm Sixty Four

The coolest part about this McCartney song, sandwiched between the lovely Harrison raga "Within you and Without You" and the more brilliant "Lovely Rita Meter Maid" (is it a bow to the new militant feminism of 60s?), is the bass clarinet on the bottom, an instrument I once played in junior high.

But well, The Cute One is 64 and, as life would have it, things didn't turn out quite the way any of us imagined. While composing this little fantasy of a song, I'm certain that Paul didn't consider that he would still be doing rock and roll concerts in American stadiums instead of:

Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight
If it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save

And now, visions of:

I can be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday morning go for a ride

have turned into reports of "excess" alcohol and drug use, and alleged mistreatment, including ketchup bottles flying and talk not of brandy glasses by the fire, but of brandishing broken wine glasses while on fire.

Bunches of people are making a deal out of this, and here I am too. All of Merry Old England is atwitter with nitwitted peckishness at the sad affair, and opinionees are being opinionated about "what it all means", with the inevitable decay in values lament being dredged up like so much bland apple butter on a stale biscuit.

Well, yeah yeah yeah, guess what? Love doesn't make the world go round (though it might make it flip its poles now and then). And love isn't forever.

And love is not a rose. Love is the sunshine brought to the rose. Love is the moisture provided for the rose, and the nutrients laid into the soil founding the rose. It takes time, perseverance, the right stuff, and a goodly amount of pure, dumb luck to end up with anything to show for it.

McCartney and bride didn't make it. Most don't. You would think that people would have had enough of silly love songs. But they haven't, and this doesn't change. It does, however, take a whole spectrum to make up the light of love, and love songs aren't always silly, as in this one by his old mate:

Woman I can hardly express
My mixed emotion at my thoughtlessness
After all I'm forever in your debt
And woman I will try express
My inner feelings and thankfulness
For showing me the meaning of success

This isn't about our times, or those times, or time at all. Matters of love are timeless, as are these words from elsewhere on the Sergeant Pepper wonder:

I used to be cruel to my woman I beat her
And kept her apart from the things that she loved
Man I was mean but I'm changing my scene
And I'm doing the best that I can

I have to admit it's getting better

I hope it gets better for Paul, Heather, and everyone else with the courage to try again, or try a little harder. Though love isn't all you need, it's a damn good thing for what ails ya.

posted by sequoit @ 11:49 AM