An Ode To Lovely Lady Linda
By Shawn Perry
Celebrities seem to be dropping dead at an alarming rate these days. In particular, the music world has taken quite a few hits, what with the supposed Queen of Country — Tammy Wynette — passing on in Grand Ole Opry style. On the periphery, The Plasmatic’s agrarian vixen of mayhem, Wendy O. Williams, decided to cash in her chips by wandering out into the forest and putting a gun to her head. Premier drummer and race car enthusiast, Cozy Powell smashed his car on a lost highway in England, simply because he didn’t slow down in time.
The latest soul to depart for the hereafter is none other than, Linda McCartney. Best known as the wife of Beatle Paul, Linda carved a niche for herself as an ace photographer, gourmet cook and crusading vegetarian. She became a musician of sorts, dabbling on the keyboard within the shadows of her husband’s bands, much to the chagrin of fans and critics, alike. Sometimes, it seemed like Linda herself wasn’t even interested in being a musician. During her last world tour with Paul, her participation was limited to hand-clapping and cheerleading. She seemed much more animated and comfortable.
Yes, we could make lots of jokes about Linda’s musical disabilities. There was a tape floating around a few years back that exquisitely sustained this notion. It was a soundboard recording of Paul singing “Hey Jude,” but Linda’s backing vocal was isolated and up-front. Needless to say, it became a running gag among morning DJ’s looking for laughs. Only Paul and Linda weren’t laughing.
We could go way back and try to lodge Linda into the puzzling conspiracy to break up the Beatles, but that wouldn’t really pan out. Unlike Yoko Ono, Linda wasn’t hanging around the recording sessions or attempting to make suggestions to the floundering Fab Four. Instead, Linda trotted around London, snapping pictures of Jimi Hendrix and The Who, fitting right in with her smart golden locks, mod minis, and Daddy’s American Express card. Linda did send her daughter, Heather, to the recording sessions, domesticating Paul in the process, and possibly aiding in the whole Beatles camp transforming into a squalid family affair. Who will ever know?
Linda McCartney caught her husband when he fell from the graces of the world’s most popular and influential group of the twentieth century. What could Paul possibly follow that with? Perhaps Linda taught him that it really didn’t matter. Paul would always be a Beatle, but it would be thirty years of hard knocks buoyed against the support of a good wife and mother before he finally realized it.
Whereas Paul’s relationship with John Lennon lasted a shade over ten years — given whose word you’ll take — his marriage to Linda would last three times that. Theirs seem to be one of total monogamy, trust and togetherness. I can’t ever recall hearing a rumor about an alleged Paul McCartney love triangle. If either Paul or Linda ever stepped out of line from one another, they did a great job in covering it up. Too bad they didn’t enlist the same sagacity when it came to their reefer debacle.
Then again, Paul is primarily Linda’s claim to fame. Back in the 60’s, it was the most coveted prize of all. Linda snarled in her man, and left the screaming Beatlemaniacs in the dust, weeping and wooing their wet dreams away. She managed to cohort his efforts at business acumen, even dragging her father and brother into the mix, while at the same time, changing his lifestyle into an organic foxtrot, without all the meat and sustenance. Life was good for The McCartneys.
But not even Linda’s strict diet of nature’s garden could save her from cancer. She had been suffering for some time, and apparently wanted it to end in secluded surroundings. Speculation bloomed days after her death as to where exactly she passed away. Santa Barbara, California was the original spot, but without a death certificate on record, authorities were put on red alert for something out of whack. It was finally revealed that Linda was actually in Tucson, Arizona at the McCartney’s private compound. The family (along with Linda’s remains) escaped to England before word leaked out. How funny that even in death, the famous can’t seem to slip away that easily.
It’s hard to imagine Sir Paul without his Lady. We could speculate that maybe he’ll finally make a decent record, or possibly be dating a famous model six months from now. But, geez…that’s a hard sell; the guy just doesn’t fit the mold. Life without Linda could very well take it’s toll.
We can joke all we want about Linda McCartney being, as the old and cruel joke went, “A Dog With Wings.” For Paul McCartney and his children, she will undoubtedly be their angel, hovering over them for the rest of their days.
God Bless you Lovely Lady Linda.
