19 September 2010
Okay, I have one more.
"Paul, you free for dinner tonight?" While it was John Lennon, it was still only 1972, only a year after their intensely public feud exploded over the media. "Um, how about the Hard Rock Café? I hear the food is fabulous." "Um, where is it?" "Times Square. 42nd and something. I'll get a reservation for 8." That night was not only the night were Lennon and McCartney agreed to end the war of words (at least in public), John even talked about the possibility of playing on Paul's next record, maybe a duet. "John was, against what everyone always says, the optimistic one, the one advocating the plans," according to Stacy, their waiter for the evening. "Paul was unsure, always saying, 'but what about the media, what about the pressure, what about the rumours.' When I asked John what he thought about all those questions, he was, to say it casually, blunt. 'F*** them' was his typical response. He was sick of the sense of entitlement fans have. It was very lucky for me I waited on them." The other man who saw the meal was the dining "neighbour" so to speak of the legends. "There was a palpable sense that John was sick of the Beatle John thing, but wanted to get back together with, as be put it, 'that great little Rock n Roll band'. The problem was, however, McCartney, the one known for optimism and happiness at hard times, he wasn't seeing like John." Paul, he said, was "concerned not with the musical content they could create, but with how the public would perceive his disbanding of Wings so soon after it started. He felt he needed to prove his credentials before he returned." Stacy agreed. "Paul knew he was good. John knew Paul was good. The problem was, the majority of the public thought all Paul's talent fell by the Scottish wayside after he left the Beatles. I mean, the public hated Wild Life. Hated it more then they hate the Black Sox or McCarthy hated Communists. And Paul was seriously rattled by that. He thought he needed the solo work that was universally liked before he could content himself being 'Beatle Paul' again." And John's advice? "Don't screw up," Stacy says, laughing. "But he later said that Paul should make an album 'you would buy'. I think Paul took that to heart."
As if it matters how a man falls down.'
'When the fall's all that's left, it matters a great deal.
1 May 2010
6 December 2012
Does anybody object to me reviving this thread? I hope not. I'm doing it anyway.
I like writing. I like The Beatles. I like writing stories about the Beatles. I don't actually have a complete one right now, but if I manage to finish one (don't worry, it will be short), would you mind if I posted it?
1 December 2009
1 November 2012
A story sounds like an interesting idea -- especially if it were partly or even wholly fictional.
Imagine a sci-fi story about the Beatles -- they reunited in the futuristic year of 1991, when interplanetary space travel has begun, and the Fab Four are enlisted to fly a spacecraft to Mercury to perform for the Mercurians.
At one point, John takes a hit of acid and looks in wonder out the porthole at the Sun, so close to Mercury as their ship begins the long orbit on its slow way to a descent through its cloudy atmosphere... but he's staring at that looming fiery mass too long, without the protective goggles he was issued. The other three Beatles panic and try to pull him away:
"John! Whatcha doin' la...!"
"Laddie, you'll lose your eyes deffo!"
"You'll send yourself to da Ozzy-Wozzy, you will!"
But it's too late...! John goes blind! Soon, they land, and a disconcerted Phil Spector is madly pacing back and forth, snorting cocaine and shooting his gun at the indoor wiring, worried that they won't have a show to put on. In the meantime, a lovely Mercurian native assisting one of the nurses steals into the recuperation room where John is on a soft pastel naugahyde exam table. Wordlessly, she puts her first and third hands over his eyes, then removes them (her hands, not his eyes) -- and not only has his sight restored, but so too his heart! He falls in love with the Mercurian beauty, Oko Yono, of lovely magenta skin, three arms, and a mouth that's also an ear.
While her healing magic helped him see and rejoin the band for their show, unfortunately their new-found love soon thereafter broke up the band; and by starfall some hours later, we find Paul, George and Ringo gazing forlornly out their windows as their spacecraft heads back planet-hopping to Earth, missing their mate who decided to stay on the one nearest the Sun.
6 December 2012
6 December 2012
Double post = necessary right now.
All right, children! Gather 'round! It's storytime! (Chorus of high-pitched little kid voices yelling "Yayyyyy!")
You all know the story of how the Beatles met, right? Well, it's wrong. This is how they really met. (Just kidding. I made it up, but you probably already knew that.)
Once upon a time, in the long-ago year of 1956, in the faraway land of Liverpool, Paul McCartney and his young friend George Harrison were at a submarine race. While the contestants were getting warmed up, Paul and George listened to the band, which happened to be John Lennon's band.
The band finished, and Paul went over to John, but before they got a chance to talk, the race started.
"On your marks... get set... GO!"
The small, one-person submarines sank into the ocean below the starting point. The spectators watched as the submarines flew through the water, no more than blurs of color beneath the surface.
Soon, it became clear that one of two submarines was going to win: the orange one that Pete Best was driving, or the yellow one that Richard Starkey, aka Ringo Starr, was driving.
The two submarines were nearing the finish line. One would pull ahead, only to go back to second place, and on and on, until they were going at the same pace.
The yellow submarine pulled ahead just the tiniest bit, crossing the finish line a millisecond before the orange one!
The submarines came back to the surface, and the contestants got out immediately. Ringo was ecstatic, Pete was angry, and all the rest just felt defeated.
"Well, I can drum, so it doesn't matter if submarine racing isn't my specialty!" Pete declared, and proceeded to drum for the crowd. Paul and George joined him on guitar.
John was impressed. "How would you like to join my band?" he asked them.
"But what about us?" protested one of John's bandmates.
John shrugged. "You're out."
His ex-band walked away angrily.
"Wait!" Ringo exclaimed. "Listen to this!" He made Pete move. Then, he blew John away with his drumming skills.
John thought Ringo was much better than Pete, so he let Ringo join the band.
The four headed to John's house to get started on practicing and becoming more familiar with each other.
And the rest is history.
Makes no sense, I know.
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