It must have been interesting for my teenager to observe
his mother making such a big deal about ABC's
"Beatles Anthology" Thanksgiving week. I put out the warning
early Sunday that at nine o'clock, the tv was mine.
I was taping. When "The Simpsons" was delayed because
of a football game, it got dicey for a few moments.
I was sure mutiny was near at hand but I won after
presenting the option of bed.
Ironically enough, my boys' reaction to the Beatles was
pretty much like my dad's more than thirty years ago.
I remember sitting glued to the tv for their first
appearance on the Ed Sullivan
show, while my dad threw out snide remarks.
"Aren't THEY cute?" he would tease, inferring in his
tone of voice that they might be less than real men
as they shook their heads and their hair bounced about.
I would roll my eyes in total exasperation.
My boys were less tactful and gracious. "They look gay!"
they laughed from the couch. "Look at their hair!"
From their perspective, which is based on groups
like Metallica and Megadeth, I had to admit that the
Beatles looked kind of goofy with their bowl-cut hair
and too clean cut in their matching suits. But, being
a mature adult, I could simply say... "Yes, dear, I
am sure Def Leppard WILL have a profound impact on
modern society."
It gets down to self preservation. I am who I am to a
significant degree because of the Beatles.
I was eleven when the Beatles first entered the American
scene, and seventeen when they broke up. They are so
woven through with my adolescence that it's hard to
imagine who I would be without their influence.
That is true of course for a whole generation. We
rolled along on the musical tide of the Beatles'
awakening to a consciousness that defined the 60's
generation. Their music could be the sound track to
the movie of our coming of age.
In the early days, my best friend Jyl and I would
spend nights pouring over magazines which were
devoted to the Fab Four. Pale frosted lipstick
was "in" at the time, and my lips are forever
planted in an eerie glow on pictures of Paul
McCartney in my scrapbook. Also included in between
the yellowed pages are newspaper clippings of
marriages and medals from the Queen, Beatle cards,
and headlines from when John Lennon was murdered.
Everyone had a favorite Beatle, and my heart like
a million others' belonged to Paul.
(His eyes still make me melt.) Jyl loved John. My
cousin Patti loved Ringo and I thought her so unusual
at the time. We bought all the albums and learned
all the words. We would gossip about them as if we
really knew what was going on in their lives.
We eagerly awaited the releases of "A Hard Day's Night"
and "Help!" and were thrilled to be able to watch them
on a big screen in the dark for hours. I could
actually cry when Paul sang "Yesterday."
Back then.. al our troubles really were so far away.
Later, the growing pains began as the Beatles "turned-us on"
to our cultural revolution. They showed us ourselves and
the new way we were seeing the world. It was lyrical and
musical consciouness-raising. The wonderful and amazing
part of the Beatles' genius is that no matter where
they took their music, it was ALL good.
Listening to "The White Album" for the first time was
like going to church. It was sacred and serious business.
We gathered at the house of the fortunate one in our
group to first get their hands on it. We knew we were
there for the communion. It's a bit of an oxymoron that
we were of "like-spirits" because we had moved into
the realm of the cerebral. We were "heads." We were
counter-culture.
There are sad associations with the Beatles' music.
Hearing "Hey Jude" immediately takes me back to a Sunday
afternoon my best friend and I were driving home from
the hospital. They wouldn't let us see her father who
was in there after having a stroke. The nurse asked me
to just please take Jyl home. We both knew he had died,
but we couldn't say it. We listened to Paul McCartney's
tender voice on the radio in tears and in silence during
that long ride home.
There was also the one morning I woke up at a friend's
house my senior year of high school to "Here Comes the Sun."
A group of us had spent the night after a party, and were
laying all around the room with blankets and pillows.
Everyone else still slept as I lay in the dawn light on
the edge of my dreams. I had never heard anything as
beautiful as the arrangement on "Abby Lane." It was a
new day, life was wonderful and I was seventeen.
When the Beatles broke up, we were crushed. How could it be?
What did that mean for those who had grown up with them ?
Throughout all the years they had been with us translating
our dreams through their music. It was their spirit that
carried me through the exciting and sometimes painful times
of the 60's.
Most touching about watching the Beatles Anthology was to
hear the three remaining Beatles reflect on their
shining moments, and to see through their eyes the
inevitable end of a magnificent streak of genius. The
saddest part of course was the absence of John Lennon.
We were all robbed when Mark Chapman took his life. He
should have been sitting around that table with Paul,
George and Ringo, drinking coffee and sharing stories
of their journey down "the long and winding road."
I was really happy when the producers chose to end the
Anthology with my favorite lyrics that truly captures
what the Beatles taught me about life.
the love you take,
is equal to the love you make."
By their own equation, the Beatles will take along
a great deal of love, indeed.
