Friday, November 24, 2006

Still Supporting Yoko and Heather


I guess I am a sucker for anything Beatles because I've bought their music many times over now. First, I bought the original LPs as they came out over the years, as well as all the 45 rpms. And don't think it was easy saving up the $3.99 or whatever the albums cost back then. I even bought the 101 Strings versions of Beatle songs. When I lost all my books and records in a move in 1969, I had to buy all the LPs over again, adding McCartney's first solo album to the group. I never bought anything by Wings or any other Beatle after that, although I would keep acquiring the same body of work over and over.

I sold all my records to buy a crib when I was a young, broke, almost homeless mom, and a couple of decades later, Frank, the beloved, shocked to learn I no longer had a single Beatles album, gave me a set of cassettes with every single song on them. Then I got a CD player and gradually bought all the albums on CD, although they were the British releases. I bought the three anthology double disc CDs, and gradually sold them off on eBay because after one or two listens, I really don't need to own old, scratchy cover tunes from when they were starting out, or the rejected versions of songs, or BBC studio versions. Then I bought the Beatles No. 1 hits CD. At this point, I really should be done. And yes, I have the Anthology on DVD, which I've watched a time or two. And the big book. What I liked the most about the Anthology video was the Shea Stadium scenes.

Over the years, I've bought DVDs with the Ed Sullivan shows, and the George Harrison tribute, watched them, and sold them on eBay. This was before Netflix. I don't collect anything that's John and Yoko, because she ruined him. She put him on a fatal pedestal. I can't look at photos of him with her. I am still on Team Cynthia.

Then my third husband gave me the boxed set of the American albums on CD, which I didn't even want. I doubt I've listened to these even once, but I own them. Seeing the old album covers again, covers I had studied so intently as a teen, was an odd feeling. I own a couple of CDs of bluegrass versions of Beatles songs, too. I like those because I love banjo. Last Christmas I bought the remix of "Let It Be," the way it was supposed to be before it was Phil Spectored. I listened to that twice. I like it better than the original "Let It Be."

Today, I bought the Cirque du Soleil mix "Love," put together by George Martin and his son, a mix of various Beatle tracks, all cooked and stirred into a big stew. The reviews for this album are all raves. Remember the Scariens? "Love" is like that, you hear the music to one song, but the lyrics to another, different combinations of songs lead in and out.

And what is my favorite Beatles songs? They're songs that never make it onto all these re-releases. I like two of the lesser known songs from the "Help" soundtrack, "The Night Before" and "Another Girl." My favorite 45 rpm was "I Feel Fine" with "She's a Woman" on the B side. They make me happy. When I hear those, I literally get a taste in my mouth that reminds me of my youth. I can smell the memories of where I was and who I used to be, with everything still in front of me, with the possibility of a good life still...possible.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Happy Again

It's the myspace.com phenom. Everyone has a page and so when the young die young, there's a mental photograph left behind. It collects clues to the mystery of life, and sometimes to the mystery of death, as in the case of Taylor Behl whose page linked her to her killer through their relationship as curious strangers intertwining in some bizarre, sick way.

I didn't go to Chris Williams' funeral because my husband arranged to go with friends so I wouldn't have to take off from work. I surfed over to his myspace page instead and picked up the last two entries. A week before he died, he posted to his fans that he had opted to "rejoin the fellows for our first official tour to promote the release of our upcoming DVD."

The post before that goes back four months to June. "I have been on a journey like no other the past couple of months. I have truly had to search deep within to find out who I am and what kind of person I want to be. Well, I figured it out. I want to be a man, a great husband eventually, a great father eventually, an amazing drummer, and most of all, a person that people enjoy being around. Hopefully my dad would be proud of the man that I am and the man I want to be! Happy again."

Happy again? So perhaps there was a crisis of identity, an unjoining with the band, that had been resolved briefly before the end. It reminded me of Frank, coming out of his second failed marriage, putting together what he perceived as his perfect band, finally getting the players he wanted, and then dying alone in the house. That's why I don't trust happiness. The journey like no other is always one of discomfort, pain, indecision, striving, trying, working hard, goals just out of reach. When you hit happy, it's like end game. I don't trust it.