Baby I’m amazed at the way you pulled me out of time

The temperature, which hovered in the high 90s Tuesday night, had nothing to do with our three-generational swoon.

The racing hearts? The weak knees? The goofy gazes?

Blame them all on Sir Paul McCartney, who held all 45,000 of us (including my mother, my sister Kathy, Molly and me) in his gifted, frenetic hands during his sold-out show at Miller Park.

Implausibly dressed in jeans, long-sleeved shirt and Sergeant Pepper type jacket, he launched right into “Eight Days a Week” while we, sweat-slicked and mildly delirious, jumped to our feet and sang along.

Eight days a week was not enough to show we cared.

We stood the entire show, dancing along happily with the greatest living representative of Rock ‘n Roll.

“Good thing I wore me overcoat!” he said and he cheerfully removed it, his only concession to the oppressive heat and humidity.

Then he set to work, playing for nearly three straight hours, amiably chatting and tossing in offhand but fascinating references to his friends —  Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton and, of course, George and John.

We learned he had written “Blackbird” in support of the American Civil Rights Movement, which gave that beautiful lullaby a whole new layer of depth and meaning.

He gave a shout-out to his wife Nancy, in attendance, and tenderly sang “My Valentine,” which he had written for her. Two songs later, just as sincerely, he sang “Maybe I’m Amazed,” a tribute to his late wife, Linda, and we loved him even more.

We came to see a Rock ‘N Roll legend, and Paul McCartney did not disappoint. He played 38 songs and almost as many guitars. His set ranged from the explosive “Live and Let Die,” complete with fireworks, to the impossibly sweet “Something,” which he played on a ukulele that had been a gift from George Harrison.

God bless the youth elixir that has given us more than 53 years of Paul McCartney’s music. We salute the talent, the stamina, the poise and the charm that allowed 45,000 of us to pour into Miller Park as Paul McCartney’s fans and leave three hours later feeling like his friends.

The love you take, Sir Paul, is equal to the love you make.

Here’s a little snippet of the evening fun (The audio on my phone was terrible, so this is edited, which is why the lips are not in synch.  Still, I think it captures the pure joy of the evening):

I was afraid my actual camera would be confiscated, so I relied on my phone, which was not pleased with the heat. Here are a few pictures from the evening, though, please know the performance was far better than the media that tried to capture it.