I’d known of the Beatles for a few years. My lovely older cousin Pat used to teach me how to dance to their music. That began when I was four years old, and I had just lost my mom. When I was five, Pat wanted to take me to see the band when they played at New York’s Shea Stadium. She worked hard at it, but she was only a teenager herself and my grandma said “Patsy, the boy would be trampled!”
Of course Mama was correct, and I never got to see the Fab Four in concert.
Then, I turned six. Things were changing; the world, the Beatles. The boys started to look different. My brothers, Ed and Kevin, both about a decade my senior, looked different too. They looked more like the Beatles.
I finally owned my first full length lp. I’d had a bunch of 45rpm singles given to me by Pat and my brothers, but owning an album was big time for me. It was the North American release entitled, BEATLES ’65. It was already over a year old, but it was new to me. The three songs that opened that album weren’t in the happy-go-lucky “She Loves You” mold.
“No Reply”, “I’m a Loser”, and “Baby’s in Black”.
The titles tell the story. That third track always reminded of how everyone had dressed at my mom’s funeral.
Then, Dad died. It was right as I began first grade.
The Beatles stopped touring. No one would ever see them in concert again. They wanted to concentrate on making the best music possible, rather than just keep singing “She Loves You” to screaming fans.
As first grade came to an end, I was feeling accomplished – the way most of us do when we think we are getting “big”. I lived with my grandma; my four older siblings resided together with our aunt.
One day, toward the end of that first school year, my big brothers came to visit. They had a new album with them. Ed was beginning to look a whole lot like Paul McCartney, especially the way Macca looked on that colorful new record sleeve. We were going to experience, for the first time, SGT. PEPPER’S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND.
Something seemed different as my brothers got set to play the record. EVERYONE came into the room to listen; cousins, Aunt Peggy and Uncle Henry. Hell, even Mama, almost 80, sat back in her chair as the needle dropped. I, at age six, had no idea why everyone was suddenly interested in the Beatles. I mean, Uncle Henry? I recall he took quite the teasing as we listened to “When I’m Sixty-Four”. He was probably just over fifty – and younger than I am now – but he laughingly took all of the “64” jabs with grace.
He took some shots about “Henry the Horse” as well.
As PEPPER played, I just wanted to get my hands on that record jacket. It looked like it had so much; all kinds of people, lyrics, colors, and maybe even…clues.
I don’t have too many memories from when I was six years old, or younger, but oddly, most of the ones I do have revolve around the Beatles.
Rather than recount that initial playing of SGT. PEPPER via the bits and pieces of my foggy memory, I will include an excerpt from my novel, SONS OF THE POPE. I used my actual experience to create a scene where a young special needs boy named Joey got to enjoy, with his family, the recent masterpiece by the band he loved so. Joey had received the album as a Christmas gift, six months after its release.
“Hey, Joey,” said Kathy. “I got you something.”
She knelt beside him and took the brightly colored album
jacket out of the thin bag. The first thing Joey noticed were
the colors and the images of all the people. He recognized
W.C. Fields because Peter would always watch his movies,
but he didn’t immediately connect with anyone else—except
for the four lads in the kaleidoscopic military garb. They held
brass and wind instruments instead of guitars, and though
Joey could not read what was spelled out by the red flowers
at their feet, he knew.
Beatles.
Kathy helped him remove the shrink-wrap. She had
already taken off the Woolworth’s price sticker.
“Ooooh,” yelled Mary. “He’s gonna love that! We buy him
the little records, but those big ones are expensive. You
shouldn’t have done that, Kathy.”
“I know he loves the ‘Strawberry Fields/Penny Lane’
single; this album is like that.”
Joey’s grin was wide as he stared at the record cover. He
opened the gatefold and got a closer look at his favorite band
in their vivid garb.
“Let me lower the television set. Put the record on for
him,” said Mary.
As Kathy placed the record on Joey’s portable turntable,
Mary turned down the Christmas music. The yule log still
burned, though—a constant loop that reset every twenty
seconds.
“He loves that music, and it’s okay ‘cause he’s always with
me and can’t do any harm to himself, but I think this music
can lead kids to bad things. You know, the drugs and all,” said
Mary.
“Maybe, but it doesn’t have to. I don’t think drugs are
needed to expand the mind,” replied Kathy. “I think a needle
in the groove beats a needle in the arm any day.”
The family sat there as the recording began. They
eventually met Billy Shears and Lucy. Mama left her chair to
make some coffee, but the rest remained. They were taken
away to a color-splashed circus. Kathy flipped the record over
and they arrived in India, only to be quickly transported to a
1940s dance hall. It was at this time that Sal began thinking
of the old music that he loved so much. Mama returned in
time to hear a chicken cluck morph into a guitar pluck. The
military band that had unleashed this animal were now trying to
get it back in its cage. There came an incredible crescendo
that sounded as if all the music they’d ever heard was being
played at once. Then it stopped—but not before a thunderous
piano chord that seemed to echo into eternity. Mary wanted
to speak but wasn’t sure when to start, fearing another
explosion of sound. Peter beat her to the punch.
“Wow!”
“These are the same fellas that sang ‘I Want to Hold Your
Hand’?” Mary asked.
“Hmmmm,” replied Joey before another could answer.
“What did ya think, Ma?” asked Mary.
“Nice boys. But I like the Italian music. I wish them luck.”
Of my real family, from the factual version of my first exposure to SGT. PEPPER, I am the only living member who was in that room on that evening in June, 1967. I dedicate this memory, with love, to all of them.
Life goes on within you and without you.
SONS OF THE POPE is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other fine retailers. Also on Kindle, Nook, and Audiobook.
CANNI primal screaming 