> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.smdp.com/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # GETTING PERSONAL Where was the walrus? - URL: https://www.smdp.com/getting-personal-where-was-the-walrus/ - Published: 2007-07-09T15:00:00.000Z - Updated: 2026-10-24T02:14:48.000Z - Author: Guest Author - Tags: Opinion, Pier, #archive-import *McCartney was rumored to appear at pier concert* *By MICHAEL J. TITTINGER Daily Press Editor* SM PIER On Thursday morning, it was an amusing little grumbling, a seed of possibility being planted among Gen Xers whose closest brush with Beatlemania was a worn copy of “Abbey Road” in the parents’ garage. But as the day wore on, the rumor began to take on a life of its own. Maybe it wasn’t a rumor at all. Maybe Paul McCartney was going to play a surprise gig at the Twilight Dance Series concert here after all. “This is happening,” a colleague said confidently, ducking his head into my office. It seemed pretty outlandish, as rumors are wont to sound, but the clues began to fall into place. The night’s headliner at the free pier show was David Lindley, a master string player with sideburns attesting to his years on the road playing with everyone who has rocked the ponytailed and patchouli set that gathers here each Thursday. The concerts are sponsored by Amoeba Records, the huge Hollywood record store where McCartney turned in a surprise show on June 27 (www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuQ6YLCB Lho). Finally, the Liverpool lad, who is all of 65 now, is pushing a solo record that isn’t finding much play on top-40 and alternative radio, so cool little impromptu stops could be his best course of action at reconnecting with fans still smitten with “the cute one.” While playing the pier would have been a cool moment for the aging rock star, it would have proven an even cooler one for Santa Monica and the Westside, an area often shunned by up-and-coming acts in favor of the hipster-laden Eastside, where they wear their love for music on their tatted-up “sleeves.” Surprise shows such as these are commonplace in Hollywood and Silverlake, but non-existent in the city by the sea. Beachside nightlife typically consists of sports on a flat screen TV. McCartney also would have been playing to an audience old enough, and schooled enough to forgive him for everything from The Wings through his soulless new single “Dance Tonight.” McCartney in a place like this? Never!” gushed a fan after the Amoeba show. “I could die today.” “The best day of my life... my entire existence,” said another, beaming. The Daily Press was ready. The front page was Paul’s to splash. No other paper would have had it Friday morning. Editors, photographers and reporters were on notice. It just might be our finest hour. All we needed was a certain left-handed bassist with a prolific melodic acumen. Sitting backstage during John Cruz’s set, noshing on Perry’s Cafe quesidillas, I felt like I was in on a secret that few others knew, one that would surely become one of those “Do-you-remember-where-you-were?” kind of nights. I walked the pier, taking note that the crowd on hand Thursday was on the smaller side of the Twilight Series shows. All the better. A few thousand — tops — would be able to lay claim that they were there. When Lindley took to the stage, the time was near. Working my way to the front row was surprisingly easy after having fought the overheated masses at events such as Coachella this year. Against the front railing, my camera was poised about 15 feet from where Sir Paul would surely take the stage — to the right of the seated Lindley. Then it was time to read the body language of those backstage in efforts to determine if something was brewing. New faces started to emerge, one looking like actor Greg Kinnear. OK, it wasn’t Ringo, or even LIndsay Lohan, but the celebs were in on it now. When Cruz walked around to the front of the stage and excitedly pointed around back, as if telling a friend that a Beatle was in the house, it looked like the great gig in the sky was on. But then something funny happened while David Lindley kept playing... David Lindley kept playing. With each song he introduced, a little bit of disappointment began to take root inside of me, and the out-of-the-loop crowd on hand did nothing but cheer and support Lindley’s whimsical blues set. Not so suddenly, it was becoming apparent that I was out of the loop, that I was on the outside looking in. The ponytailed and patchouli set digging the free concert were the ones that held the key, while I was left holding the bag. Paul never played the pier. I know now that I’ll likely never get closer to him than I did from the nosebleed seats at the now-demolished Veterans Stadium in 1990, which is fine. I’m not even the starstruck type, rarely recognizing celebrities when they pass me on the streets of Santa Monica. Really, I was just hoping for “a moment,” an event I could write about and tell stories of to anyone out of the loop. “Well, you know how rumors go,” that same colleague said with a smile after the show. If Paul’s non-performance reinstilled anything within me, it was to live in the moment and enjoy what’s right in front of me. In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. Thanks, Paul. *Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on July 9, 2007.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/070907.pdf?ref=smdp.com)