WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES AROUND.

Remember two posts ago; I mentioned Helter Skelter had triggered why Ringo blurted out, “I’ve got blisters on my fingers?” Remember I explained the recording session inside Abbey Road Studio began at 7 pm and how all through the night the boys worked on just that one song trying to get a decent finished take, which at last materialized on the band's 21^st attempt, giving everyone agreement to call it quits at 2:30 am? Well, did you know in 1960, our famous, exceptional Beatles worked fifty-six nights’ straight at Hamburg’s Kaiserkeller nightclub from 7:30 pm until 2:00 am? Here is the grueling schedule they had to perform per the signed contract: 7:30 – 9 pm, 9:30 – 11 pm, 11:30 – 1 am, 1:30 – 2 am seven days a week. We can sympathize, as a shift so exhausting certainly makes the up to one’s ears comparison of rigorous labor eight days a week might seem.

Now, think about all the strumming and chord changes up and down those non-precision guitar necks strung with inferior, days of old steel strings. I have calloused left-hand fingertips, and yet, if I play three hours with newly improved, extra light gauge strings, including a twenty-minute break, my tips begin to hurt. Think about all the singing that stretched and damaged vocal cords inside their sore throats. I can feel some strain in my voice when singing just a couple hours two days in a row. Think about all the heavy pounding with a pair of substandard pre-1960 wooden drumsticks rubbing your hands raw, irritating the skin’s surface, and yes, causing blisters as they crash against tightened drum heads attached to hollow cylinders without a two-day weekend rest.  No wonder Pete Best skipped nights, letting Ringo take his place. No wonder he didn’t smile much or joke around like the others. No wonder he dodged the fuss and primping a comb had to endure, raked over his head so as to accommodate the Beatle haircut.  No wonder he ditched his mates after the gig’s last set and hooked up with a steady girlfriend, who’s shift ended at 4:00 am. The guy opted for some relaxing pleasure instead of sleeping in concrete rooms with no shower, windows or beds, and then get rudely awakened by the early matinee’s first showing inside the cinema behind their deficient skinny walls. No wonder while the Beatles auditioned for Parlophone, George Martin insisted on a seasoned professional drummer for the recording session of Love Me Do. Poor Pete lost the spunk, lost the drive to polish his art. Lost the spirit to do whatever it took to reach the same level as his pronounced last name––the “best” he could be. On the other hand, Pete could pretty much go anywhere and do anything he liked without being mobbed, chased, or hounded with questions by the press and constantly photographed by his every move. Something the intact Beatles could only wish for the same treatment after LOVE ME DO opened the road to stardom.

Many first-hand witnesses in and around Liverpool, as well as the Reeperbahn red light district, have assured us all, Pete was the most popular Beatle up till 1962, and huge amounts of rumors point to envy over Mr. Best’s handsome facial features ranked the top reason that got him sacked. How ironic John, Paul, and George took a much longer distant backseat to the popularity fame Ringo received by the countless fans throughout the globe. Nevertheless, only Paul suffered from signs of jealousy. Paul was jealous about the close alliance between John and Stu Sutcliffe. Paul was jealous about every original song credited to Lennon/McCartney, having his name placed last made him bitter. Paul was so jealous about his original tunes he would hog studio time and even tell the other three how his songs should be played. But every time the recording engineers’ focus turned to record a Lennon or Harrison composition, McCartney lost the demand for perfection and pushed his mates to hurry up so he could pull out his next melodic gem arranged on tape. For a while, John believed Paul actually sabotaged recording moments within overdubs on Lennon tunes and grew enraged that McCartney kept holding the A-side position on released singles––Paperback Writer/Rain, Eleanor Rigby/Yellow Submarine, Hello Goodbye/I Am the Walrus, Lady Madonna/ The Inner Light, Hey Jude/Revolution, Get Back/Don’t Let Me Down, Let It Be/ You Know My Name (Look Up The Number). By the insistent of John, the beautiful love ballad called, Something was granted the A-side position backed with Lennon’s Come Together. Nowhere has it been said Paul also urged Apple to release Something as the new single A-side, but you can bet he was jealous by it. His envious ways grew into bossy attitudes, which made Ringo quit the band during the White album and frustrated George that he, too, quit during the Let It Be sessions. Finally, John confronted Paul in September 1969 on the ludicrous crap such as Ob-La-Di-Ob-La-Da and Maxwell Silver Hammer their bass player was writing and announced he wanted a divorce, he was leaving the group but made a promise to Allen Klein, their new manager, not to go public.

Paul’s jealousy got so out of hand, he even wanted his solo album released before Let It Be, and threatened Ringo when the drummer rang the front door bell at the request of John and George to plead for Paul to please change his mind. In the past, nothing moved forward unless all four Beatles agreed. That suddenly changed when John, George and Ringo accepted Klein without McCartney's consent. From then on, the Bassman would do anything he wanted, when he wanted. Paul’s jealousy against both Yoko and Allen Klein caused the vengeful band member to slip inside the McCartney solo album an official written statement that took away all the oomph out of John’s sails, who wanted so much to tell the world he was finished with the Beatles and ready to move in another direction with Yoko. However, for the sake of the band, John kept quiet. Oh, but not our little Pauly, the last Beatle to release a solo album. (George Harrison was the first per, Wonderwall and Electronic Sound – John Lennon was second per, Unfinished Music and Wedding Album – Ringo Starr was third per, Sentimental Journey released a couple of weeks before Paul’s debut solo.)  You think the Bassman wasn’t jealous? Then why did he go public expressing Lennon and McCartney will not continue as active songwriting partners nor is he willing to plan for a new Beatles album? 

What goes around, comes around, in that McCartney failed to produce a single even though the album stayed in the #1 spot for three weeks. On the other hand, Let It Be stayed in the #1 spot four weeks and before the end of the year, John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band spent three weeks in the top ten Billboard Charts. The real kicker though was George, who released the extremely successful, All Things Must Pass solo album riding the #1 spot for seven weeks. The fine collection of songs also produced two top 10 singles; My Sweet Lord backed with, Isn’t It A Pity reached #1, and What Is Life backed with, Apple Scruffs reached #10. Well, now do you think the Bassman was jealous?

Once a Beatles Fan, Always a Beatles Fan

 If there was one direct feature why you became a Beatles fan, how would you describe that poignant memory that took you over the edge? The main reason these four musicians captured your attention and left you wanting more, much more that you converted as a true-blue follower and nothing anyone else or the world tried to offer could break the bond.

For female teenagers, first inside Liverpool, then all seven continents’, it was the boys good looking, handsome presence behind their sparkling eyes and dashing smiles. For Neil Aspinall, it was the thrill of being Pete Best’s closest friend and roommate, then acceptance as a staunch advisor within all aspects the Beatles emerged themselves. For Klaus Voorman, it was the driving beat spilling onto the streets of Hamburg. For Brian Epstein, it was the lad's personal charm, For George Martin, it was the fellow's cheeky sense of humor, then, of course, the raw talent. For Ed Sullivan, it was the enormous young crowds of hysterical cheering enthusiasts lined up along the observation platform at London Airport (now known as Heathrow) welcoming back their musical idols. For Bob Dylan, he thought the mop-tops smoked marijuana. And for me, it was the intricate melodies woven with finesse throughout impressive structured chord progressions, which in my opinion, always over complemented their composition style.

From as far back as I can remember, melodies in music enriched dominance to provide the sweetest icing on the most scrumptious cakes inside my ears. During the month of May 1955, at only two years and ten months old, Davy Crockett’s theme song and movie by Walt Disney Productions, seized every fiber of my being and secured a melody I could repeat. Just a short time later, The Mickey Mouse Club debuted on October 3, 1955, sharing lots of exciting songs with sound pleasing melodies children rallied around. I loved Jimmy Dodd; he wrote most of the tunes. . . And no, love didn’t bloom on the basis he played the Mousegetar, he was so good and kind to the kids, and that type of conduct won me over. I could sing most every selection the Mouseketeers performed on my black and white television set.

In 1956, near the end of November, seated around the same old black and white TV, mom and dad introduced me to Judy Garland’s Wizard of Oz and boy oh boy, the musical film garnished a tremendous amount of memorable melodies forever planted happily alongside my brain. My favorite character year after year never abandoned the Scarecrow.

In 1958, a few months before my sixth birthday, Ross Bagdasarian, a.k.a. Dave Seville, released Witch Doctor, a novelty rock song––Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang that never failed to pinch a couple of my parent's nickels dropped in the mini jukebox stationed at our personal restaurant table. The same year my favorite Christmas song starred the Chipmunks’ singing, Christmas Don’t Be Late, a great melody and such fun for youngsters.

By 1960, Elvis and Everly Brothers records started a continuous path from store shelf to bedroom closet, bringing super-duper melodies upon my soul when played after school.

However, my melody attraction’s crème de la crème, found the mother lode January 1964 when Capitol Records released Meet the Beatles and routinely the boys continued to amaze me with brilliant favorable melodies throughout their short-lived six-year career invasion of the planet Earth. So sad, it had to end much too soon.

Okay, your turn. What main reason turned you into a Beatles fan?  Leave a comment.

California Girls vs Russian Girls.

Well, well, well, Christine, the owner of the Pizza Place I perform during Tuesday Date Night, wants me to feature this next Tuesday as a Beatlemania Tribute, singing lots and lots of Beatles songs. Her favorite song is, “Here Comes The Sun,” by George Harrison, also one of my favorites. I imagine a top favorite for any guitar player grounded by the beautiful chord structure throughout the verses. To place a bit of praiseworthy honor upon my independent contractor employer, every time I sing her chosen song, I rephrase the line “Little Darling” with, “Pretty Christine.” A touch of sentiment she highly adores.

Happy Hour Music begins after the day shift at 5:30 pm and continues till 8:00 pm. I take no breaks, just play the full two-and-a-half-hour duration non-stop. I plan on singing only Beatles material, however, if someone requests another artist’s tune, I’ll gladly break the chain, as long as I’m capable and familiar with their wish. For example, Leah, the head waitress has two favorite songs close to her heart, “Runaround Sue” and “Brown Eyed Girl.” However, just last week she heard me sing “Dear Prudence,” and mentioned how much she loves that song. So, rest assured right after I sing, “Back In The U.S.S.R.”, I’ll proceed with, “Dear Prudence,” just like the playlist on the album/CD.

I always get a bit on edge when singing, “Back In The U.S.S.R.,” via my parents expressed much dismay in my choice of listening pleasure and the admired influence those Beatles had on their sixteen-year-old son once they heard the lyrics. A lasting adverse memory stuck inside my mind since 1968. The song is such a great rocker and can get an audience moving on the dance floor, but many times I play at Sun City events, and when portions of the older crowd tower my age at least twenty years, I wonder if rattled nerves will surface. Out of respect for veterans’, I purposely never perform it at Assisted Living facilities.

What was Paul thinking when he penned the chorus, (I’m back in the U.S.S.R., you don’t know how lucky you are boy, back in the U.S.S.R.). Let’s take a look. For starters, if you read my last post, John articulated the whole Beatle shebang was tongue and cheek, they didn’t take anything seriously, including themselves, especially away from the pulled in reigns of Mr. Epstein.

Such an occasion occurred when the fellows departed their manager and headed for Rishikesh, India to study the benefits of Transcendental Meditation. It just so happened, Mike Love, lead singer of the Beach Boys had also joined the attendees, and that got the ball rolling. You see, Paul knew Chuck Berry songs and thought it was clever how Brian Wilson and Mike Love borrowed from Berry’s, “Back In The U.S.A. and Sweet Little Sixteen” to compose, “Surfing U.S.A.” Although both Paul and Mike never formed a true close friendship, each respected the enormous talents of one another and could appreciate the leaps forward their competition recordings had turned gold and caused many great original composed tunes to climb the pop charts.

One morning at the Maharishi retreat, Paul came down to the breakfast table with his guitar and said, “Hey, Mike, listen to this,” and started strumming then began singing the verse to “Back In The U.S.S.R.” Right away, Mike suggested Paul sing about the girls around Russia just the way “California Girls,” had lyrics about East Coast girls, Southern girls, Northern girls, and Mid-West farmers’ daughters. Paul was impressed with the idea and molded the new song into a Beach Boy sound-a-like homage.

Ironically, this is the very song why Ringo quit the band. Three days in a row, Mr. Starr arrived at the studio on time and waited hours mulling around or reading the newspaper without a single word from the other three. On August 22, 1968, after a few run-throughs, Paul tried to show his drummer how better to play the instrument for this new hot rocking number, pushing Ringo to his limit, and without remorse, he walked out claiming he’s through with the Beatles. Paul took over the drums for the night and again the next evening to record, “Dear Prudence.” I’m not sure if Ringo’s timing hit the bulls-eye, or the other busted-up band members avoided the back-beat flair provided by their percussionist, but for the next two weeks, overdubs and mixing pre-recorded takes filled the lads’ agenda lacking a need for drums.

Finally, after apologies and notes assuring Ringo was the best rock drummer in the world, he returned to his spot in the studio and found loads of flowers covering the drums and a flashy welcome back sign.

The first song after rejoining the band, which had microphones stationed around the drum set and tape machines rolled to capture every thump, clang, and pizazz Richard wowed the staff assembly, took place on September 9, 1968. Believe it or not, “Helter Skelter” won the honor. . . the very song Ringo yells at the end, “I got blisters on my fingers.”  One wonders, did the weeks off cause poor Ringo’s musical hands to go soft, and out of practice? No, the true reason weighs on the number of takes our lads ran up before getting it right. The session began at 7 pm and ended at 2:30 am the next morning. Just the one song played for seven and a half hours starting with take 4 – take 21. No doubt, blisters developed. Ringo sat out the next night and on September 11, managed to play 34 takes of Glass Onion. Luckily John shortened the complete song length to under two minutes.

Somethings, and Sadly, Some People Never Change.

Based on reputation as well as repetition, is the New York media biased or even crooked, like one of the 2016 presidential candidates’ claim? This particular candidate has constant quarrels with the New York Post, Time Magazine, and bitter battles with Fox News host Megyn Kelly, although Sean Hannity, another Fox News host, treats the mentioned candidate like a god, but apologized recently for using a fake news story to attack First Lady Michelle Obama. And don’t get me started on Bill O’Reilly. Caution??? You're about to enter the no-spin zone? Shouldn’t we as taxpayers want to enter a no-spin zone? I have never seen a man who loves to interrupt and hear himself talk more than the Factor’s ready to pounce O’Reilly. Geez, that guy practically answers his own questions.   

And then you have something called the Main Stream Media, where most GOP representatives and surrogates tell each other to avoid as best they can, newsroom places like MSNBC and CNN. However, Republican representatives will appear quite often on dominate left-wing programs and receive fair treatment. Not so by Fox News. Very rare will Democrat representatives accept an invitation to appear on Fox. Most of the time Fox has to settle on their own left wing Fox News contributors’, unable to book a Democrat from Congress.  The so-called persistent term” fair and balanced debate” Fox pundits invent through their teeth has significantly lifted onto the air-waves from the caught in the act facts that years ago Fox newscasters’ were anything but fair. Want a good example? I swear, every time political analysis Mr. Juan Williams joins a roundtable discussion on any Fox News program, his microphone volume is weaker than all the others.     

So, it makes me wonder. . . Does New York cultivate journalists from the womb? Do they rely on matching DNA’s identical patterns that breed skeptics, retaliate personalities, and dare I say it, crooked behaviors for the soul purpose to slander, humiliate and seek a most unseemly, but altogether an outrageous and downright shameful goal, to destroy those they interview and achieve breaking news?

Or, is it probable well-known Press reporters’ and TV Correspondents’ offspring duplicate their parents’ characteristics just by watching how mom and dad conduct themselves in the home, long after leaving the workplace? The same kind of New York journalists’ of 1964 Ringo spoke about in the Beatles Anthology documentary. The following is taken directly from the enormous Anthology book, founded on page 120.  Here is what the famous drummer had to say, and I quote, “Being cheeky chappies saved our arses on many occasions, especially then, on the train to Washington, because the guys from the press had come to bury us. These reporters, being New Yorkers, would yell at us, but we just yelled back. When we got to know some of them they said. “’We came here to kill you, but you just started shouting back at us––we couldn’t believe it.’” Up until then, pop groups had been like milk and honey with the press. No, I don’t smoke that kind of thing. And here we were, smoking and drinking and shouting at them.  That’s what endeared us to them.

Likewise, John also had a few words to say in connection with how bad journalists’ relish ripping the good life out of people. Mr. Lennon’s comment, also found on page 120, follows, and I quote, “We’d learnt the whole game; we knew how to handle the press when we arrived. The British press are the toughest in the world––we could handle anything. We were all right. I know on the plane over I was thinking, “’Oh, we won’t make it.’”, but that’s that side of me, we knew we would wipe them out if we could just get a grip. I don’t mind people putting us down, because if everybody really liked us, it would be a bore. You’ve got to have people putting you down. It doesn’t give any edge to it if everybody just falls flat on their face saying, You’re great. We enjoy some of the criticism as well, they’re quite funny, some of the clever criticisms, not the ones that don’t know anything, but some of the clever ones are quite fun. The main thing that’s kept us going when it’s been real hard work is the humor amongst ourselves, we can laugh at anything––ourselves included. That’s the way we do everything–– everything’s tongue in cheek. We’re the same about ourselves, we never take it seriously.”

Imagine how much better the world would be if every single person laughed, and joked, and used clever self-inflicted jabs at ourselves rather than shoved on others bully style. Picture funnyman Don Rickles mopping the floor with insult lunacy stabs all directed at himself, while every pot-shot spurts comic ridicule more hilarious than the last. Imagine if candidates running for office did the same, and pundits, reporters, sports teams, those in the arts of film, music, and handcraft sculptors and painters, co-workers of every business, and classmates in every school. Imagine.