You know what I’m talking about. When you’ve known someone for years, you think you really, really know the person.

Take my wife, for instance. We met during Paul McCartney’s Wings Over America tour back in 1976. We made eye contact across the arena floor during “Venus & Mars Rock Show,” we introduced ourselves during “Jet” and we vowed eternal love while Paul banged out “Maybe I’m Amazed” on the piano. Yep, it was Wings that gave flight to the “Bluebird” that was our romance.

And what a romance! We spent endless nights talking about the social significance hidden in the lyrics to “Let ‘Em In,” and we played “Coming Up” on our stereo like there was no tomorrow. We worshipped at the altar that is Macca and we lived our lives like a “Band On The Run,” as we immersed ourselves in our own “Silly Love Songs.” Those were the days. Sigh…

So, you would think that with a marriage inspired by the melodies and lyrics provided by all those great songs, that my wife would be ecstatic over the announcement that Paul McCartney is going to tour America in the fall. I mean, when you consider that our first child was conceived while we were listening to “Helen Wheels,” that we named our two kids “Uncle Albert and Admiral Halsey,” and that we re-modeled our house to look just like “Junior’s Farm,” that my wife would be overjoyed that Paul is going to bring his wondrous music to the concert stage. Yeah, you would think she would be as euphoric as the first time we ever heard “Hi, Hi, Hi.”

However, she didn’t even bat an eyelash when I told her about Paul’s upcoming tour. But what’s worse is that she told me that she didn’t even want to go to the show.

“But what about all those songs?” I asked. “What about rolling in the hay while listening to ‘Let Me Roll It?’ What about using the lyrics for ‘Live And Let Die’ for our wedding vows? What about ‘Rockestra Theme?'”

But she just shook her head and told me that she didn’t care. She didn’t care about the tour, and she didn’t care about getting tickets to one of the biggest events of the year. Then she broke my heart by telling me she didn’t care about Macca, and that she was never a Paul McCartney fan. Can you believe that?

Instead, she told me that she was always a Linda fan. Man! And you think you know someone.