Working Out At Piedmont Park

Recently, my neighbor, Gene, asked me if I had any interest in working security at a Paul McCartney concert in Piedmont Park. Of course, my advancing age and lack of tone made me somewhat curious why he would ask me. "No," he said, "You're not required to carry a gun or anything like that." That was a relief. I asked him what was required of the security personnel. He told me that you wore a shirt marking you as a staff member and basically, went where they told you to go.

You see, Gene had, years ago, done this for Alex Cooley, a big concert promoter here in Atlanta. He's seen and met hundreds of musicians and to his credit, being a 3rd degree black belt gave him the incentive and means to conduct such an enterprise. Basically, according to Gene, you escort musicians, stand in front of the stage, etc. for a very long day. They feed you and make sure you're not drunker than the crowd. I was doubtful but now he's ordered my shirt and I feel like it will be fun. I'll wear my good shoes.

I have, however, become concerned with my lack of, ahem, physical presence so I will pump iron for a couple of weeks to at least look like I can stop someone who hurls themselves at the stage. I think in reality, I'll stick close to Gene. I can put on a pretty intimidating visage, according to those who know me. But if push comes to shove, I'd prefer to have Gene throw a side kick into the offender's torso. Then, I can stand by and keep looking like I'm intimidating.

Paul McCartney must be paying off his settlement with that weird ex-wife. Poor guy. He must be down to, what, $50 million by now? It will be hard to avoid shouting things like: "Hey Paul, dated any one-legged women lately?" Or, "Why did you ever put a microphone in front of Linda?" In truth, I'll probably be guarding a statue or an umbrella stand. Still, it's pretty exciting getting a chance to be that close to someone that I idolized as a pubescent kid. I won't mention the sagging jowls and wrinkles if he doesn't.....