Yesterday I read about Heather Mills's $48.7 million winnings from her divorce battle with Paul McCartney, representing herself in court since the lawyer she fired couldn't quite get her the amount she wanted. That's about $34,000 per day of their 4-year marriage, if you wondered. Coincidentally (or was it . . . ), later that afternoon in the car, "When I'm 64" came on. I'm not the first person to point out Paul most likely didn't have a messy and public divorce in mind when he wrote that song. He seemed to be focusing more on Vera, Chuck and Dave bouncing on their grandmother's knee. Maybe I'm totally off and he was going for irony all along, but I doubt it. It probably isn't much consolation to either Heather or Paul that they could easily rent separate summer cottages in the Isle of Wight. Okay, maybe to Heather.
I know, I'm such a gossip. I wonder if it would have been as public if it weren't the British press involved. I ain't sayin' she a gold-digger, and for all I know, Paul is a big, big jerk. I guess only they know what went on between them. But I feel bad for the guy. Well for both of them. I mean if I were divorcing a gazillionaire and planned to raise his child I would want a decent paycheck from him. Most of all I feel bad for their daughter. And for Paul and Linda's kids and grandkids. What a life, right? You would think money could at least buy one of them happiness. At any rate it is making me sad.
