Tag Archives: Beatles

I Blame Ringo

Harmony guitar after a little TLC

Harmony guitar after a little TLC

This past weekend we had dinner one night at Abbey Road, in Virginia Beach (Great restaurant!). The next night we ate at the Rock Fish (Another Great restaurant!), which boasts a collection of guitars once used by the Beatles. Mind you, most are “rehearsal” guitars, but as every musician knows, there are more hours spent practicing and rehearsing than performing.

As I may have mentioned, the hermit crab I got at the beach (and a playmate added later) ended up with a much better home that I found at the local Goodwill. I believe that Goodwill and other such stores are an important part of the re-use, re-purpose, recycle movement, and there are always treasures to be found. The crab terrarium was one, but I also stumbled across a $25.00 guitar.

I have steel stringed acoustic and electric guitars, but this one was designed for nylon strings—something I’ve wanted for a while. In its day it was probably a good starter guitar, and in its day, they made them to last. Naturally, I bought it, brought it home, cleaned it up and restrung it. It will take several days, if not weeks, for the strings to stabilize (which is normal for such guitars) but I can’t wait to see how it plays.

Therefore, I blame Ringo. Why? Two reasons: 1) Of all the instruments on display, none were Ringo’s. 2) In my humble opinion, of the four of them he has always had the best sense of humor, pointing out that the Beatles were a band in which he played for a small portion of his career. Besides, I think he would probably enjoy the fact that I blame him for me buying a $25 guitar at Goodwill.

So there, Ringo, and if you’re so inclined, pass the blame along to your brother-in-law, Joe Walsh (although since he’s a fellow ham, if I get to “work” him on the air, I’ll forgive you both.)

Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll

pep

This is aimed at only those of us who are old enough to remember the Beatles. Not a retrospective.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away we talked about these – sex, drugs and rock and roll.

We also pledged to “Never trust anyone over 30.”

My, how times change.

Drugs? Oh yeah, man, I’m into all kinds of drugs these days. Blood pressure meds, sleep aids, anti-inflammatories, antihistamines and something to help my memory – I forget what it is. I do them all, man. (Eat your heart out, Tommy Chong!)

Sex? I’m happily married. If you are also happily married you understand. If you’re not happily married, there’s no way I can explain that you would understand.

Rock & Roll? Yes, I still love the “oldies.” The best part is that I can pick and choose the very best of all of the songs I’ve heard. I can fondly remember the best of all the great groups and conveniently forget the duds. (Okay, yes, I do still remember “Hocus Pocus” by Focus and “Clones” by Alice Cooper) I figure, my fond memory of past music is about 10% of everything that occurred in that time.

So as far I’m concerned, BOC, ELO, the Doobie Brothers, the Eagles, and a few others were all that existed.

I’m over 30 twice over. I now know a little bit about life. I trust my peers twice as much as I did before I was 30.

On one hand, I’m more realistic.

On the other hand, I still like (and embrace) the attitude of my youth.

So, in summation:

Pick good – believe in great ideals.

Stick to them.

Try to make the world a better place.

Enjoy the blessings along the way.

What a Drag It Is Getting Old

The Rolling Stones song came into my head today because I’ve been fighting a cold for the past 4 or 5 days. My daughter just got over the flu and she seemed as unhappy with missing much of the Christmas (excuse me, “Winter Holiday”) vacation as I am fighting this cold. I guess whichever age we are living seems to be the one that has the most intense experiences. Therefore, adults don’t understand what kids are going through and kids don’t understand the trials and tribulations of age.

Rolling Stones 1962

Rolling Stones 1962

Which brings me back to the Rolling Stones, of course.

When I was a freshman in high school among the popular music groups were the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Dave Clark Five, Herman’s Hermits, The Mamas and the Papas and, of course, Paul Revere and the Raiders (“featuring Mark Lindsay”). Of all of these, who would have guessed that the Rolling Stones would still be touring?

I guess it shows that you just never know.

The Beatles played as a touring band in Europe and made their entrance into America amid screaming girls and stadium venues. They were idolized. They had movies. Stores sold “Beatle Wigs.” However, if you count their years liberally, the best you can say is that they existed as a band from about 1957 to 1970. Most of the other bands I listed are pretty much among the “Whatever Happened To…” crowd.

Such is life. We can make a big splash and fade away. We can initially be viewed as an “also ran” like the Stones, but keep on keeping on until everyone else has faded away.

I figure that whatever you think of the Stones, it’s not a bad model.

As a parent, I’ve tried. I didn’t always succeed, but I kept on trying. Given enough time, I eventually got better at it. I’m still far from ideal, but I’m just going to keep trying. I think that’s the best way to succeed.

So, although years ago, the Stones sang “What a drag it is getting old,” they actually have done pretty well. I like to think that I’ve learned and improved and done pretty well myself.

At least I don’t have to sing “Brown Sugar” and “Jumping Jack Flash” 150 times per year for fifty years. However, comments like “Do you have homework?” and “Is your room clean?” top the 150 mark every year.

Nowhere Man (Part 1)

The Beatles

The Beatles

 

Suddenly I awoke.

Or did I?

I felt like I was awake, but I couldn’t see or hear anything. Where was I? Was I dead? I didn’t think so. If I were dead I should either be experiencing heaven or hell or whatever, or if those didn’t exist and I was dead I shouldn’t think or feel anything.

So where was I?

I tried to think logically and started by taking a mental inventory. I was aware of myself. I couldn’t perceive anything else. I tried to see if I could feel anything, but my hands and feet didn’t seem to be there.

This was a little weird and very, very scary. I thought about the old stories and movies with someone’s brain kept alive in the jar, its owner going mad without being able to communicate. I tried to calm myself, but it was difficult; usually I start by trying to control my breathing, but I couldn’t tell if I was breathing or not. I couldn’t feel my chest to tell if it was rising and falling. I didn’t feel like I needed oxygen so at least I wasn’t suffocating.

That thought helped calm me down.

Where could I be so that I wouldn’t be able to see, hear or feel anything? I remembered reading about sensory deprivation tank experiments in which people floated in a warm liquid in a sound and light proof enclosure. But didn’t they say that without anything else to interfere you’d hear your heart and the blood moving through your arteries? And after a while weren’t you supposed to hear the electrical conduction of the nerves?

I could think of no reason I would be in a sensory deprivation tank. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t sure that they still existed, if they really had existed at all in the past. Maybe they were all just Hollywood hype.

So where was I?

I decided that as weird as it sounded I must be nowhere.

(To be continued)