The Beat(les) goes on

I took my kids to the University Library at Northwestern today, where they had a small exhibit of Lennon/McCartney manuscripts on display. Among the items were the original jottings of "Eleanor Rigby", "Yellow Submarine", and "Good Day, Sunshine".

I imagine that I got a bigger thrill than my kids. But I told them that someday they could tell their friends that they saw these wonderful artifacts of creativity. As we looked at each one, I tried my best to sing them snippets of each song. I even sang the cello parts in "Rigby" My god, George Martin could arrange some strings!

Just as Freud believed that everyone goes through phases (oral, phallic, anal, etc), I believe everyone goes through a Beatles phase. Some pass through without any mark, others get stuck in it. I recall a kid in high school who always wore a John Lennon "Mao" hat all the time. A Lennon/Mao hat? You gotta love it.

Anyway, I went through the Beatles phase while in college in the early 80's. I was always a John Lennon guy (as opposed to a Paul person, or a George person, or that other one person). Although at age 45, I've grown more fond of George. Shy yet brilliant.

It's not that I dislike Paul. He's just too schlocky for my tastes. Always the wink and the nod, having one over on you and all that.

(Interruption: Raise your hand if you knew 5 years ago that Heather Mills was a gold-digger? I see lots of armpits out there, Sir Paul)

Paul is sort of having the last laugh being the last Beatle. No, I'm not picking on Ringo. Ringo tours because he likes to get paid. Paul has nothing to prove, and doesn't need to prove it.


This is my daughter, standing over "Eleanor Rigby". Someday, her heart will ache when she realizes what that song really means.