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16 August 2010
7.12pm
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mithveaen
Sitarday's room
Rishikesh
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Ok, I love this George song, but I don't really get the meaning of “scruff”.I know it's a part of your neck, but also an untidy person. Just checking, Beatle fans were callled like that because of the last meaning right?

 

Aw. How mean of them. Anyway, George's song is lovely. a-hard-days-night-george-8

Here comes the sun….. Scoobie-doobie……

Something in the way she moves…..attracts me like a cauliflower…

Bop. Bop, cat bop. Go, Johnny, Go.

Beware of Darkness… 

16 August 2010
7.23pm
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Zig
The Toppermost of the Poppermost
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That was the name the lads tagged on to the groupies that would hang around the Apple Office Building.

To the fountain of perpetual mirth, let it roll for all its worth. And all the children boogie.

16 August 2010
9.07pm
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MrBig
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I love that song. And “Savoy Truffle “, which is weird because I've never EVER had chocolate or an apple.

"The best band? The Beatles. The most overrated band? The Beatles."

16 August 2010
10.31pm
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GniknuS
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George's tribute to those loyal Beatle girls. “In the fog and in the rain, through the pleasures and the pain, on the step outside you stand, with your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs.”

It's really a shame that John and Paul didn't give some of the songs George used for All Things Must Pass the time of day because Let It Be could have just been fantastic. Poor George, I don't blame you for wanting out.a-hard-days-night-george-4

I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine

16 October 2010
12.41pm
mr. Sun king coming together
Nowhere Land
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Could George have released a single disc of his songs(with the Beatles Backing him) as a way to get rid of his backlog?

As if it matters how a man falls down.'

'When the fall's all that's left, it matters a great deal.

16 October 2010
10.27pm
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mithveaen
Sitarday's room
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Yeah, but I don’t think Lennon/McCartney would have allowed it. I mean, the boys loved for each other, but these two had a huuuge ego.. a-hard-days-night-john-1paul-mccartney

Here comes the sun….. Scoobie-doobie……

Something in the way she moves…..attracts me like a cauliflower…

Bop. Bop, cat bop. Go, Johnny, Go.

Beware of Darkness… 

21 October 2010
12.56am
mr. Sun king coming together
Nowhere Land
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But Imagine ……
All Things Must Pass By The Beatles

As if it matters how a man falls down.'

'When the fall's all that's left, it matters a great deal.

21 October 2010
4.24am
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mithveaen
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I know what you mean Mr. Sun King , but I'm so fond of that album that I think it's perfect the way it is. a-hard-days-night-george-10

Here comes the sun….. Scoobie-doobie……

Something in the way she moves…..attracts me like a cauliflower…

Bop. Bop, cat bop. Go, Johnny, Go.

Beware of Darkness… 

7 March 2014
5.55pm
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LikeASir
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Something I’m curious about.

mod edit: LikeASir had asked if The Beatles had any groupies.

"White Album - My joint-fave Beatles album along with Revolver. They show the two sides of Beatles. Revolver's very controlled - even though it's also very innovative. The White Album's playful and almost ramshackle. It's like a scrapbook kept by a genius. Fantastic stuff."

7 March 2014
6.09pm
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meanmistermustard
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Well you have the Apple Scruffs that George paid homage to and tons of fans hung around on the tours, some waiting and willing to spend some time alone with a Beatles. Do those count as groupies? The Apple Scruffs themselves said not.

"I told you everything I could about me, Told you everything I could" ('Before Believing' - Emmylou Harris)

7 March 2014
6.22pm
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Ahhh Girl
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LikeASir said

Something I’m curious about.

@LikeASir Yes, The Beatles did have groupies. They were called Apple Scruffs .

Here’s a link to one of Joe’s pages that mentions them.

You will find them mentioned in various threads around the forum.

Hopefully someone (hint, hint @AppleScruffJunior ) will add a little bit more to this thread to give us a little more insight about them.

7 March 2014
6.29pm
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LikeASir
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Personally I think the Apple Scruffs were probably more devoted fans than groupies. I’m wondering if they had any..you know…groupie groupies. a-hard-days-night-george-10Like the ones you hear about in tales of Led Zeppelins’ sordid…activities. paul-mccartney

The following people thank LikeASir for this post:

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"White Album - My joint-fave Beatles album along with Revolver. They show the two sides of Beatles. Revolver's very controlled - even though it's also very innovative. The White Album's playful and almost ramshackle. It's like a scrapbook kept by a genius. Fantastic stuff."

7 March 2014
6.37pm
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WETSRoosa
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meanmistermustard said
Well you have the Apple Scruffs that George paid homage to and tons of fans hung around on the tours, some waiting and willing to spend some time alone with a Beatles. Do those count as groupies? The Apple Scruffs themselves said not.

 

They had groupies, but the Scruffs weren’t it. From everything I’ve heard, they were just devoted fans that hung outside Apple Co. (or Abbey Road Studios) at all hours of the day. (I’m possibly getting to interview a Scruff for my show, so I’ll have a better idea exactly what they did besides stand outside a building with signs and flowers.)

"There's no such thing as bad student... only bad teacher."

7 March 2014
6.38pm
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Ron Nasty
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Rolling Stone published an interesting article on the Scruffs on 14 February this year.

"I only said we were bigger than Rod... and now there's all this!" Ron Nasty

To @ Ron Nasty it's @ mja6758
The Beatles Bible 2020 non-Canon Poll Part One: 1958-1963 and Part Two: 1964-August 1966

7 March 2014
6.39pm
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WETSRoosa
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LikeASir said
Personally I think the Apple Scruffs were probably more devoted fans than groupies. I’m wondering if they had any..you know…groupie groupies. a-hard-days-night-george-10Like the ones you hear about in tales of Led Zeppelins’ sordid…activities. paul-mccartney

 

Not on Zep’s level, but yes. How much either Beatle, um, participated is another issue entirely, but it’d be naïve to think they didn’t have groupies or that they didn’t indulge in them.

"There's no such thing as bad student... only bad teacher."

7 March 2014
6.51pm
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fabfouremily
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I’m very sure they did have groupies, but the ones that were associated with 70s bands (particularly Led Zep) took it to a whole new level.

Anyway, as said above, I think Apple Scruffs were more fans than groupies. I see a difference.

Moving along in our God given ways, safety is sat by the fire/Sanctuary from these feverish smiles, left with a mark on the door.

(Passover - I. Curtis)

7 March 2014
9.08pm
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AppleScruffJunior
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Ahhh Girl said

LikeASir said

Something I’m curious about.

@LikeASir Yes, The Beatles did have groupies. They were called Apple Scruffs .

Here’s a link to one of Joe’s pages that mentions them.

You will find them mentioned in various threads around the forum.

Hopefully someone (hint, hint @AppleScruffJunior ) will add a little bit more to this thread to give us a little more insight about them.

Did you call?

Pretty much what everyone else said, the Scruffs were the more innocent fans who hung outside the Apple building, Abbey Road and Paul’s house (and breaking into Paul’s house, obviously). They were just avid fan girls (and boys) who basically used to stalk them (meaning no harm- of course).

Some of them eventually ended up working with the lads and kind of becoming their friends. They weren’t ‘groupies’ in that their main aim wasn’t to sleep with one of the Beatles, they just want to be a part of their world. However, one of them, Carol Bedford got close to George but nothing happened because she rejected him(a-hard-days-night-paul-7a-hard-days-night-ringo-13).

Of course if I was back in the 60s I would have fecked off no bother to London to become an Apple Scruff!

 

Speaking of which if anyone has a PDF of ‘Waiting For The Beatles: An Apple Scruff’s story’, I will send you a cookie!

Seriously though- I want that book!!!

 

 

 

INTROVERTS UNITE! Separately....in your own homes!

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Make Love, Not Wardrobes!

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"Stop throwing jelly beans at me"- George Harrison

17 March 2014
8.06pm
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AppleScruffJunior
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I found some excerpts from ‘Waiting for The Beatles: An Apple Scruff’s Story’!! Enjoy

 

“On Monday I was back on the steps of Apple, waiting for something to happen. Sue-John and Eileen were with me. So far no one had arrived. It didn’t look like anyone was going to either. Derek Taylor, the Press Officer, came out on his way to lunch.

‘You like George, don’t you?’ he asked me. I nodded. ‘Well, I’m not sure I should tell you,’ he hesitated.

‘My God , Derek!’ I screeched and grabbed his arm. ‘He’s all right, isn’t he? Nothing’s happened, has it?’

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he said, patting my arm. ‘It’s just that his drug trial is tomorrow. You know he was busted for drugs?’

‘Yes, I read about it.’

‘Well, the trial’s tomorrow at the local court, in Esher. I don’t know how he’ll feel if you turn up, but I thought you and Lucy might want to give moral support.’

‘Yes, we do,’ I said and then added ‘Anyway, it’s a chance to see him.’

I waited all day for Lucy to arrive after work. She did accounts at a West End hotel. I quickly told her what Derek had said and asked her if we could find the court.

‘If we don’t,’ she said, ‘we’ll die trying.’

‘Just follow the press,’ Sue-John offered.

Sue had been to John’s drug trial, holding her breath in the balcony and clutching Margo’s arm while the sentence of a fine was announced. There was always the fear that some judge would make an example of the person and send him to jail. Both John and George were guilty of possessing marijuana in very large amounts. Lately the courtes were making a big deal about the amounts found. It was very serious indeed if there were enough drugs to sell. In that case, it was very hard to argue that the drugs were fod your own private consumption.

Lucy and I made plans for the next day. Lucy arranged for Jill to phone her work to say she was ill. We found the train times and phoned round for the address of the local magistrates court. We phoned the court before setting off to confirm if George’s trial was to be held there. The operator asked if we were press. I chanced it by saying yes and she confirmed that George’s trial was booked, but the press would not be allowed insinde the court room. Would anyone be allowed in? Yes, observers only. Jill explained to me that photographers were not allowed in British courts. ‘We respect the legal system,’ Margo told me. ‘It’s no circus.’ She suggested that Lucy and I wear skirts ‘to be on the safe side’. We did, but found out when we saw Pattie that it was unnecessary.

We arrived in plenty of time. The small court building was surrounded by trees. The press, hundreds of them, were packed in front clicking pictures, presumably of the building, but perhaps of each other. Lucy and I made our way inside. It was a one-storey room so there was no balcony like the one Sue had been in. The judge’s seat was at one end with a British flag behind the large oak desk. At the other end of the rectangular room was the dock for the accused person. There was a desk in front for the lawyers. Lining the two walls in between these two focal points were seats for observers. Lucy and I sat in the front row, in the middle so as to have a perfect view of the proceedings. It turned out to be one of the best performances by a rock star that I have ever seen.

The courtroom filled quickly. All sorts of officialdom filled the floor area and all sorts of strange people filled the observer gallery on both sides.

George and Pattie walked in after the room was packed with all except the judge himself. George was dressed in a navy blue suit and looked distinguished. His hair, however, had not been trummed for the occasion. Pattie, letting the side down, I felt, wore white crepe trousers and a maroon velvet jacket. She wore no blouse under the jacket. But she had just washed her hair so it looked all long and fluffy. She looked stunning. All the men agreed; I heard a few breathless gasps for air when she entered.

The judge walked in and we all stood. Once he sat down, the show was on the road. The charges were read: possession of over five hundred ounces of marijuana plus a large amount of cocaine. That’s bad, I thought. Large amounts and cocaine. The latter was recognized as a very serious drug indeed. The proscuting lawyer stated that on 11 March [sic: 12 March] the police arrived at the Harrison bungalow. George was not home but ‘Mrs Harison was most helpful. She showed the police where the drugs were kept.’ At this revelation, George jolted visibly and turned to look at Pattie. She slunk down in her chair and kept looking straight ahead. Poor George. He obviously had not been told just how helpful she had been.

The lawyer continued. He described that the drugs were found in a shoe box in a cupboard and in an ornament, five-foot-long pipe. The pipe was displayed next to the shoe box.

George’s lawyer took the floor next. He said George and Pattie were pleading guilty to the marijuana, but George denied that the cocaine was his.

George’s lawyer then pointed out that George did not appreciate the way in which he had been arrested. He was at Apple and received a phone call from his house requesting his presence home as he was at that moment under arrest for possession. He drove home immediately and was arrested formally.

The judge announced in summing-up that the amounts were large and this was upsetting. It would lead one to think that the drugs were to be sold, but even he could not imagine one of the Beatles having to sell drugs to make ends meet. He, therefore, announced his sentence: £500 fine and a year’s probation. Not bad, but the probation would cause trouble for George, as it did John, when he needed to go to the United States for business.

The judge stood to leave. George leaned over and grabbed his lawyer’s arm. He then whispered something to the lawyer. The lawyer looked at George with some surprise and called out ‘Excuse me, Your Honour.’ The judge stopped. ‘There is one other matter…’ began the lawyer. The judge looked surprised, but returned to his large desk and chair.

‘Yes, what is it?’

‘It’s the pipe, Your Honour,’ the judge began. ‘It was a present to Mr Harrison from a friend, another pop star. Mr Harrison had not looked inside the pipe on receiving it. I understand some of the drugs were found in this pipe?’

‘Yes,’ the judge stated. ‘What about it?’

‘Well, since the pipe was a present from a dear friend and a business acquaintance, Mr Harrison holds great sentimental value for the pipe. He was wondering if he could have it back.’ The lawyer stood waiting.

‘Of course,’ the judge said. He then added, ‘I do hope Mr Harrison doesn’t mind if we first remove the drugs before giving the pipe back to him!’ The judge left the courtroom.”

 

[1966, visiting London]

“…Ruth and I caught a train at seven in the moring. Our first stop was Esher. Once there, we walked past a grocery store and Ruth shouted ‘That’s George’s Mini!’ It was a bright orange Mini with all sorts of Indian designs painted on it. We went into the supermarket to see if George was inside. He wasn’t, but Pattie was.

It has been noted that the American Beatles’ fans were more interested in their womenfolk than the English girls were. The English girls seemed to take an attitude of ‘She’s married to him. Therefore, she’s the enemy.’ An American girl, possibly because of the induction of the fashion magazines, would view the spouse not so much as competition but as someone to emulate.

Pattie was lovely. You could instantly understand why she was a top model. She was wearing a Foale and Tuffin pink crepe mini dress. It was one of the first minis I had seen. They were just coming into fashion. She was perfect for the mini with her long, thin legs. She also had beautiful, long blonde hair. She was more cute than beautiful. She was slightly shy when Ruth and I walked up to her. She knew Ruth and Ruth gave her a photograph of George taken at their home. Pattie was very pleased with this commenting that it was a good picture of George and she didn’t have many. She appeared very honoured that Ruth had given her a copy.

When she was leaving, she was having trouble carrying her box of groceries and trying to open the car door at the same time. To make matters worse, a couple of men were whistling and cat-calling her. She was getting very embarrassed. Ruth took the box so Pattie could open the door and get in the car.

Ruth told Pattie we were ‘doing the rounds’, going to all their houses. Did Pattie know if anyone of them were at home? Pattie said George was out until about five and then both of them were going out to visit friends. She said John and Ringo were in, as far as she knew, because George had called them earlier to chat. She then thanked Ruth for her help with the groceries, waved goodbye and shouted as she drove off ‘Happy hunting. Hope you see them today.’

[They went to Weybridge first] Once we reached the gates, Ruth told me what the housekeeper had said. ‘She told me John was in, but in a bad mood – didn’t want to see anyone. When John’s in a mood, it’s best not to bother him. Matter of fact, if any of them are in a mood, I’d rather avoid scenes. That way I can stay on their good side and feel I’m welcome to come again.’ This was my first taste of a discreetly civilized attitude towards the Beatles and their privacy which Apple Scruffs also displayed.

Ruth told me as we were walking to Ringo’s about one of the first times she had visited John. She had stood by the front gate not daring to walk up the driveway. A little boy bounced through the wooded area to the side of the driveway and peeped through the gates. This turned out to be Julian, John and Cynthia’s son.

‘Daddy says f*** off,’ the little boy said.

Ruth was shocked, to say the least. ‘You tell your daddy I don’t like little boys swearing at me. He shouldn’t get a child to do a man’s work. And I’m not leaving ‘til he comes to tell me himself!’ With that Ruth grabbed Julian and spanked him once lightly.

Julian broke away, howling far more than the discomfort merited, and raced up to the house. A few minutes passed and Ruth saw John coming quickly down the drive. As he got closer he yelled ‘Hey you. What right you got to hit my kid? He’s only doing what I told him to do if he saw any of you girls hangin’ around.’ By this time he was a couple of inches from Ruth’s face, his hands on his hips, staring down at her.

Ruth said she felt in total terror at first. He might decide to hit her as she had his son. But she soon collected her spirits. ‘Well, honestly, you shouldn’t teach a child such language and you should tell the girls to piss off if you don’t like them coming round!’ Now it was John’s turn to be taken aback. He obviously didn’t expect her to answer him.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘it beats getting a guard dog!’ Ruth laughed and so did John. He asked her name and took her into the house for tea! After that, they were good friends.

By this time, we had reached Ringo’s house which was smaller in scale and closer to the lane than John’s. Ruth again rang the bell. There was a shout from an upstairs window. We backed up so we could see who was shouting. Ringo’s head was sticking out.

‘Hello, Ruth!’ he cried when he saw her. I could see Maureen behind him.

‘Hi, Ringo. We came for a visit.

‘I can’t today, Ruth, really busy. I’m about to go out. Some other time?’

‘Sure, see you soon. Bye,’ Ruth called.

‘Bye,’ Ringo and Maureen waved their greetings and moved away from the window.

By now I was faint just with the knowledge that the Beatles were real and, come to think of it, fairly normal. I mean, they could talk!

[Back to Esher]

We went up the gravel path passing all kinds of semi-modern bungalows. Ruth said Esher was good for retired colonels and such. The neighbours weren’t pleased at first when George moved in. They thought it would mean a lot of loud noise and drug addicts walking aout wrecking lawns. But very soon it transpired that George and Pattie were a nice, relatively normal couple. Now the neighbours were protective towards them.

We went up to their house. It was a white, L-shaped bungalow set in a clearing with trees surrounding it. Like John’s house, there was a high wooden fence around the property and it had a curving driveway. Margaret, George’s housekeeper, came out of the house. She was going home for the day but, seeing Ruth, she stopped for a chat. She said that Pattie had come in the house and told George that the girls were very nice to her. She told him about the trouble she had getting into her car and avoiding the men.

We then saw George standing at a full-length window. He was talking on the telephone and when he saw us he waved. Margaret said Pattie and George were coming out soon ‘because they have a dinner engagement.’ We decided we could only wait half an hour because it was getting dark.

While we were waiting, a gorgeous white Persian car came down George’s drive. He came up to me and started rubbing himself on my legs. I picked him up. He was lovely, purring away like a steam train. I noticed he had one blue eye and one green. Both eyes had gold flecks in them.

‘That’s George’s cat,’ Ruth said. ‘Lovely, isn’t he? George puts him to work to earn his keep. The cat does carpet commercials.’

I laughed. Good for George! Ruth also told me that Pattie had had two Dalmatian dogs, but George insisted they were got rid of because they started to bother the cat.

‘Ruth, these roses are lovely. Does George have a gardener who does them?’ I asked. Beautiful roses lined the inside driveway from the gate to the house.

‘Don’t talk to me about those roses!’ Ruth snapped. ‘They were the cause of the one row George and I ever had.’

She then told me how she had picked a rose one day. Before she even knew what was happening, George was not only out of the house and down the driveway, but had grabbed her arm ferociously.

‘Don’t pick my roses!’ he yelled. ‘I grow them myself. How dare you. They’re mine to look at, not your to pick.’ He struck her hard on the back.

Needless to say, he shouldn’t have done that. Before he could turn around to walk away, Ruth landed a hell of a right kick to the front of his leg. George collapsed in agony on the ground, holding his leg with both hands. Ruth stood over him giving him a lecture on how roses were to be admired by anyone whonsaw them. He should be flattered, not angry, that she had picked one of his filthy roses. If he hit her again, she’d kick him in the balls! At this, George took her at her word and said she could keep the rose, but he didn’t like his roses being picked. He spent a lot of time tending them and liked to watch them grow.

Ruth softened a bit and helped him up Off The Ground . ‘Well, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise. But you shouldn’t hit girls.’

George, still rubbing the front of his leg, remarked, ‘You won’t need to remind me.’

After that, not only did Rith not pick his roses, but she warned others to honour George and leave them alone too.

While we were waiting, Ruth told me a story that George had told her. The story concerned the cat, but it also explained George’s behaviour over his roses (if they can be taken to be representative of his privacy). George told Ruth he was tired of never being able to feel alone. It seemed girls were always at the gate, which wasn’t so bad, but sometimes they got out of hand. He said he didn’t mind if they rang the doorbell. He enjoyed talking to the girls. But some went too far; they took advantage. Ruth asked him to give an example of ‘going too far’.

George told her that he and Pattie had arrived back late one night and went straight to bed. In the middle of the night, George was woken up. His hand had dropped off the bed and was hanging by the side. What woke him was that something had brushed against his hand. He opened his eyes, thinking it was the cat. He looked down and saw two girls crawling out from under his bed! He jumped out of bed, flicked the lights on and screamed. He started after the girls, who by this time had got out from under the bed and were racing through the house for their lives. George stopped long enough to throw a robe on and explained quickly to Pattie, who was asking him what the hell was going on. Poor George. By the time he resumed his chase, the girls had escaped out the front door and were halfway down the driveway. He returned to the bedroom upset and exhausted. Pattie gently explained to him that the girls must have got in while they were out. George asked ‘How? The door was locked.’ Pattie pointed to the open window in the bedroom. They always left it open so the cat could get in.

We could no longer wait for George and Pattie to come out. So we walked back to the train station to head back to London.”

 

 

Christ, everybody stop hitting everyone! My thirst is whet and I now want to read that book even more!

The following people thank AppleScruffJunior for this post:

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INTROVERTS UNITE! Separately....in your own homes!

                 ***

Make Love, Not Wardrobes!

                ***

"Stop throwing jelly beans at me"- George Harrison

17 March 2014
8.15pm
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AppleScruffJunior
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The final excerpt that I have:

 

“[1969, Savile Row] I thought I would just stand there a few minutes and see if anything happened. A white Mercedes drove up and parked at the kerb. The man who gout out of the car was wearing tight, faded jeans and a short denim jacket. It was my first glimpse of George. There was something about him that struck me immediately. I don’t know if this was because he was wearing jeans and looked more casual than the others. or because he was so very slender. Maybe it was simply that, when he walked by and scowled in my direction, his face struck me as very handsome with piercing, almost black eyes. He turned and walked into the building without saying a word.

[…] In the evening, we workers gathered in a pub behind the hotel in Shepherd Market. There were red lights in the pub perhaps to depict that area which was known as the expensive ‘red light’ district. Lots of prostitutes resided in the neighbourhood and the Playboy Club was located nearby.

I was sitting with Sue, a tall buxom blonde, and her boyfriend. Sue did the same job as me and her boyfriend was one of the salesmen.

I told Sue ‘Something happened to me this afternoon.’

‘What?’ she asked simply.

‘I saw the Beatles,’ I said softly. She looked at me. She didn’t laugh or mock in any way.

She just noted, ‘This seems to have had an effect on you.’

‘Yeah,’ I laughed. ‘I’m a fan from way back but something hit me seeing them today.’

‘Well, what was it?’ she looked at me intently.

‘It was George. There’s something about him that intrigues me. He’s very attractive.’ I then recounted the adventure of the afternoon.

She suddenly turned to me and said ‘You must go back. You must go back and see George again.’

[…]

Easter was approaching and Lucy [an Apple Scruff from Italy who loved George and was quite possessive of him] was planning to go to [George’s] house to give him a present. She was looking for a special Easter egg. I asked if I could go with her. Despite my being direct competition, she was delighted: she wanted company. I wrote to my dad in Dallas. Neiman-Marcus, the specialty store, did a fruit cake in the shape of Texas. I wanted one of those cakes to give to George. It would be a gift personal to me and George might get a kick out of it. I wrote to Dad to hurry: time was short.

Lucy and I travelled by train to Esher early on a Saturday morning. Lucy had a chocolate bunny but, because it was not unusual enough, she also had a vest that she had knitted for George. I had my Texas-shaped fruit cake. We arrived at midday.

As we were brazenly walking up his gravel driveway, I remembered being here three years earlier. Then I would not have dreamed of stepping inside his gate, much less doing what we were doing now. Lucy went up to his front door and rang the bell. George appeared, wearing white jeans, white sweatshirt and, as he stepped outside the house, I saw he was also wearing Indian embroidered slippers that reached up to his knees.

We wished him a ‘Happy Easter’ and presented our presents.

‘You’re from Texas?’ he asked me, looking at the cake.

‘Yes, Dallas,’ I answered. My voice was shaking.

‘I hate Texas,’ George said. He must have seen my face fall because he quickly explained ‘Nothing personal. It’s just that both times we toured there, terrible things happened. We had too much police protection in Dallas and too little the next year in Houston.’

‘Well, the Dallas cops have given up since Kennedy’s assassination so now you’d get no protection at all,’ I said.

‘Were you in Dallas when Kennedy was killed?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it was horrible. But I don’t think it was the fault of the police. They asked him to ride in a bullet—proof car. He refused, saying he wanted the public to see him. Well, they did  spread all over the car.’

‘I take it you’re a typical Texan and didn’t like Kennedy,’ George said, looking at me intently.

‘No, I did like him,’ I said. George smiled at me and I relaxed a bit. Maybe he wasn’t making a personal attack.

I aksed him if he would sign my copy of Hunter Davis’ biography of the Beatles. ‘Sure,’ he said and promptly signed his name across the bottom of the fly page. I then asked him if he would mind if Lucy took a picture of him and me together. ‘No problem,’ he said, and added ‘But let’s stand away from the house, in the sun. You’ll get a better picture.’ We moved further into the yard. I stood with my arms to my side. George moved close to me as Lucy asked ‘Ready?’ and clicked the picture.

After the photo session, George and I walked back to Lucy. George asked Lucy what she was doing over Easter.

‘Nothing really,’ she said, looking at the ground. She made no move to speak to him again. An embarrassing silence followed. To break it, I asked George if he had plans.

‘I’m not going away,’ he said. ‘I’ll just stay home and potter around the garden.’

‘I like your slippers,’ I said. ‘I hope you didn’t get them dirty or wet from the grass.’

‘Oh, no, they’re OK. Leather soles,’ he said, and lifted a foot to show me.

I kept looking at Lucy. Surely she knew him well enough to speak to him. He kept looking at her and she said nothing. Nor would she return his gaze but kept looking down at the ground. I noticed from the corner of my eye that when he was looking and talking to me, she would venture to look at him. This was shyness to an extreme. I got the feeling that he really wanted to know her, but she was giving nothing away.

George shortly dismissed himself by saying he felt a bit cold and should be going back inside. We thanked him, wished him ‘Happy Easter’ again and started up the driveway.”

The following people thank AppleScruffJunior for this post:

Beatlebug

 

INTROVERTS UNITE! Separately....in your own homes!

                 ***

Make Love, Not Wardrobes!

                ***

"Stop throwing jelly beans at me"- George Harrison

17 March 2014
8.29pm
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The 1996 BBC 2 radio documentary ‘Apple Scruffs ‘ can be downloaded here

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