John Lennon (1940-1980)

John Lennon was born eighty years ago today—October 9, 1940.

Without John Lennon, there would have been no Beatles. Surely some other group or individual would have filled the gap that the Beatles occupied, but their artistry and creativity would have been different. As a result, the 1960s and history since that time would also have been different.

When Paul McCartney met John Lennon in 1956, John was leading a skiffle group called the Quarrymen. (Skiffle is a British folk music, not unlike some of the Appalachian and Ozark folk music still performed today in the United States.) Paul and John established a musical partnership, that was soon joined by George Harrison. Other members came and went, and various names were used by the group. The Beatles did not approach the peak of success, though, until Ringo Starr became the regular drummer of the group in 1962.

In their early years, the Beatles performed many rock-and-roll hits from the United States, from black performers as well as white performers. They paid as much attention to B-side songs as to the promoted hits. They also wrote their own songs and performed them. An early Beatles hit, “Please Please me,” reveals both the word-play for which John became famous and the innovate harmonies that helped the Beatles to stand out from the crowd of early Sixties musicians. While Paul is sometimes considered the more musical of the pair, comparing Paul’s “And I Love Her” to John’s “If I Fell” (both from the album and movie Hard Day’s Night) reveals that they had equal and complementary talents. When the Beatles stopped touring and became a studio band, John was able to direct his word-play into more complex songs such as “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” and, “I Am the Walrus.” But his musical abilities were also evident in songs such as “All You Need is Love,” which sounds like a simple rock anthem but has a complicated rhythmic structure which, every so often, drops half a beat.

John had a troubled childhood. Both his parents were absent, and John was raised by an aunt; his mother, Julia, died while John was still a child. (Oddly, Paul’s mother Mary also died while Paul was young.) John was perpetually contemptuous of authority and found it hard to maintain stable relationships. He was the first of the Beatles to marry; also the first to divorce and remarry. He was as absent from his sons’ lives as his father had been absent from his. John admitted that his promotion of love and peace for the world did not match the life he was living. John also experimented with a number of mind-altering substances, drawing his fellow Beatles and many other people into the drug culture of the later Sixties. He was briefly interested in Transcendental Meditation, a version of the Hindu religion promoted by a yogi who became very famous and wealthy as a result of his teaching. As the members of the Beatles sought meaning for their lives in various forms and aspects, the group fractured. John’s solo career was noted especially for the anti-war anthem “Give Peace a Chance” and the ballad “Imagine,” both of which are frequently quoted in contemporary conversations about life, politics, religion, and idealism.

John retired from the musical scene for several years, then began a comeback with new music in 1980. In December of that year, he was shot and killed by a deranged fan. As the Beatle martyr, John’s image and reputation became even more strongly associated with the values of peace and love. The Beatles remain cultural icons today, not only as representatives of the Sixties but as creators of music that continues to entertain, having passed the test of time. In the decades since the Beatles, many performers have enjoyed successful careers, but no one has shaped and defined music and culture as much as the Beatles did in their time. J.

The Beatles

In April 1973, Apple Records released two double albums (eight sides in all) containing fifty-four songs that had been recorded and released by the Beatles between 1962 and 1970. Officially named The Beatles 1962-1966 and The Beatles 1967-1970, the recordings quickly became known as “The Red Album” and “The Blue Album” because of the color of the album covers. (A double album of new material from the Beatles, released in November 1968, had been named The Beatles but is usually called “The White Album.”)

Other compilations of Beatle music had been released before 1973 and have been released since 1973, but for many Beatles fans the Red Album and Blue Album are the definitive collection of Beatle songs. Fans can easily debate the selections. I, for example, would have included “If I Fell,” “I’ve Just Seen a Face,” “Got To Get You Into My Life,” “Here, There, and Everywhere,” “I Will,” and “Sexy Sadie,” among others.  With the coming and going of compact discs and the current availability of digital recordings, the red and blue albums are likely irrelevant to newer fans of the Beatles. But in the history of Beatle fandom, those albums have an important place.

A few days ago I tested my memory to see if I could recall all fifty-four songs included on the red and blue albums, as well as the order in which they appeared. Some sides I remembered easily; others were dimmer in my memory. Finally I had to pull them out of my collection and fill the gaps. (Yes, I still have my vinyl albums that I bought in the Seventies and Eighties.)  Interestingly (to me if to no one else), the songs I had forgotten were largely from the Rubber Soul and Magical Mystery Tour eras. “In My Life” and “Hello, Good-bye” are both songs that I like, but for some reason I had forgotten that they are included on the Red Album and the Blue Album, respectively.

Last year’s movie Yesterday imagined a world in which the Beatles had never existed and almost no one had ever heard their music. One man could remember and reproduce the songs of the Beatles, and he introduced them into the world. At first he found it difficult to get people to listen, but eventually the songs made a big impact. The first time I saw the movie, I didn’t like how the Beatle music was scrambled together, not showing the development of their musical styles and interests. But I then realized that younger Beatle fans know the music of the Beatles exactly in that fashion—all one package, without context of years and albums and formative influences. My children grew up hearing the Beatles music at home, and they probably remember some songs by album—Abbey Road, for example, or A Hard Day’s Night. But even for them, hearing “And I Love Her” side by side with “Oh, Darling” would probably not strike them as essentially different songs—just two of the many great songs written and recorded by the Beatles. J.

I have a dream

It began at a gas station. I had just filled the gas tank of my car, and I was prepared for a long drive home. I had not been home for a while, and I was looking forward to returning.

The service road was crowded with traffic, so I had to wait a bit for a gap before I could leave. But soon I was on my way, merging onto the Interstate. Almost immediately I passed some construction, and some of the vehicles in front of me pulled over into the site, but I kept on driving.

The next thing I knew, I was on Washington Street in my childhood hometown. Some trees next to the street were in bloom, covered with flowers. I pulled a branch to my face and sniffed, but I smelled no odor.

After that I was home. I knew people were sleeping, so I was moving quietly from room to room. Suddenly, I heard the Beatles singing “Paperback Writer.” I knew that my alarm was going off, and my first thought was worry that the alarm had been playing every morning while I was away.

Then I woke. My alarm was playing “Paperback Writer,” as I had set it to do last night. I had not been away from home, and my alarm had not been disturbing my family during my absence.

Most of the dream makes sense: my returning home after an absence, my departure somewhat delayed by traffic, passing through construction—all that I understand. But I am trying to decipher the odorless flowers close to home.

Any suggestions? J.

Remembering Woodstock

I was vaguely aware that some rock concert was happening fifty years ago. At the time I was young and I didn’t follow rock music. I knew what hippies were—I saw a carload of them one afternoon that summer. But the term Woodstock was not very meaningful to me while it was happening.

A little more than ten years after (Yes, I did that on purpose.), the college I was attending showed the Woodstock documentary on a Friday night. My friends and I attended, and we were won over to the Woodstock spirit. In fact, that same fall we dressed as hippies for the Homecoming bed races and won the top prize for our costumes (and second prize in the actual race). I went out and bought the three-disc concert album and came to know most of the songs by heart. When it was available, I bought the documentary on VHS. When I wore out the tapes from repeated viewing, I replaced them with the DVD set (which included Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, and some other singers and groups that were omitted—at their own request—from the original movie). So of course I have watched the movie again this week, joined by my teenaged daughter, who has her own appreciation for hippies and Sixties culture. In fact, having watched Woodstock earlier in the week, we followed that last night by watching Hair, a movie made in 1979 that included the songs from the Sixties musical of the same name.

Observing and appreciating the culture does not include approval of all its mistakes. I still believe in marriage and faithfulness, in respect for authority, and in private property. I shower every day, and I just got a haircut this week. I have no illusions about the Age of Aquarius (and, by the way, most experts in the field say we are still in the Age of Pisces). But most of my favorite rock songs are from the Sixties. The Beatles were the best rock band ever, and Abbey Road is the best rock album ever recorded. I still ache when I think about the 1969 Chicago Cubs, how they stumbled out of first place as summer drew to a close, being overtaken by the Miracle Mets. (And this year’s version of the Cubs seem destined for the same disappointing results.)

I wouldn’t want to be seven years old again. But the summer I turned seven was full of amazing happenings that are worth remembering and celebrating. J.

Remembering John Lennon

John Lennon was the first Beatle.

He was leading a skiffle band when he was introduced to Paul McCartney. Skiffle is English folk music—Beatle fans have heard skiffle-sounding songs such as “Baby’s in Black” on Beatles for Sale and “Maggie Mae” on Let It Be. John and Paul became musical partners, and George Harrison soon joined them. Other musicians came and went, including Stu Sutcliffe and Pete Best. Ringo Starr replaced Pete Best as the Beatles were preparing to make their first hit record. The rest, as they say, is history.

Older baby boomers know that “the day the music died” is February 1, 1959—the day Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens died in a plane crash. For late boomers like me, the day the music died is December 8, 1980, when John Lennon was shot and killed in New York City. I was a college student at the time. I was sitting in a friend’s dormitory room that night when Dan Rubens noticed the open door and called into the room that Lennon had been shot. Dan didn’t know any of us in the room, but he had just heard the news and wanted to share it with someone.

Stereotypes about the Beatles include the thought that Lennon was more adept with lyrics and McCartney was more adept with melodies. This overlooks the fact that Lennon penned some admirable melodies, from “If I Fell” to “Across the Universe,” not to mention his post-Beatles hit “Imagine.” But Lennon definitely had a knack for words, which he demonstrated especially in “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” and “I am the Walrus.” The music of the Beatles has remained popular for decades and has reached several generations. In many ways, it defines the popular culture of the 1960s.

John Lennon was the first of the Beatles to marry and the first to father a child. He was also the first to divorce and remarry. Lennon’s own childhood was difficult—his father abandoned the family, and his mother died while Lennon was young. (Paul’s mother also died while Paul was young.) He was raised by an aunt. Although Lennon sang about love, he was distant and cold toward his own family members, as he admitted himself in interviews toward the end of his life. Like most musicians of the time, the Beatles experimented with drugs—first pills to keep them awake and energized for their hours on stage, then later marijuana and LSD. Lennon even had to break a heroin habit in the 1970s.

In 1966, John Lennon commented to a reporter that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ. When this remark was printed, it caused considerable controversy. Lennon half-apologized, explaining that he was only stating a fact about the Beatles’ popularity in England and was not claiming to be better than Christ or to deserve to be more popular. Lennon’s own views about Christianity (and religion in general) were well-known even before he wrote and recorded “Imagine,” in which he pictures a world of peaceful cooperation without politics and religion to divide people from one another.

In 1980 Lennon returned to the recording studio after several years of retirement. His single “(Just Like) Starting Over” was rising in the charts when Lennon was killed, eventually reaching the number one spot. Lennon’s last album, Double Fantasy, also made it to number one after Lennon’s death, and it won a Grammy award as Album of the Year. It is difficult to imagine how John Lennon’s career would have continued had he not been killed. Two of his songs were included in the Beatles Anthology of the mid 1990s; Lennon was accompanied by added tracks of Paul, George, and Ringo, making the songs the closest possible approach to a reunion of the Beatles.

The walrus is sadly missed. J.

First Friday Fiction on a Second Saturday

Stanley Harris was born during that brief period when American folk music was hitting the top of the popular music charts. After a year or so, the rest of the country moved on to Motown and the Beatles, but Stan’s parents stayed loyal to folk music. Consequently, Stan grew up hearing the music of Harry Belafonte, the Weavers, Woody Guthrie, and other folk singers. Stan knew all the words to “On Top of Old Smoky,” “Goodnight, Irene,” and “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Stan’s parents also kept alive their love for the Big Band hits of the 1940s; Stan can still hear his mother chirping, “A tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket.” Broadway musicals were also favored in the family. Every year Stan and his parents sat down and watched the classics on network television: The Wizard of Oz, The Sound of Music, West Side Story. Next to the folk records and the Big Band records in the family collection were cast recordings from Music Man, My Fair Lady¸ and other Broadway shows.

On the weekends the family radio was tuned to the classical music station. Stan took piano lessons as a boy, and in the fifth grade he joined the school band. From Bach and Beethoven to Strauss and Sousa, Stan had a wide musical education. Then, when he entered high school, Stan found his classmates evenly and fiercely divided between fans of disco music and fans of heavy metal. Stan joined the minority of high school students who considered the Beatles vastly superior than anything newer, and finally, a decade late, the Harris house was filled with the sounds of “Hey, Jude,” and Abbey Road.

Jump ahead forty years, and Stan’s music tastes remain eclectic. His children, now grown, are also Beatle fans, with fond memories of sitting on their father’s lap as little children while he sang “Hey, Jude” to them, or, “The Long and Winding Road.” When a professional production of My Fair Lady came to town, Stan bought two tickets and took his youngest daughter to the show. This was the night that changed Stan’s summer.

The actor who portrayed Alfred Doolittle was very strong, dominating the stage and capturing the audience’s attention, as the role requires. The actors playing Henry Higgins and Colonel Pickering were also quite adept and talented. At first Stan feared that he was going to be disappointed by the actress playing Eliza Doolittle. She did not show the same strength in the early scenes. Only as the show progressed did Stan realize that she was deliberately taking a subtle and nuanced approach to the part. Her Cockney accent was not exaggerated in the way most actresses portray Eliza. Her character was vulnerable in the first act, contrasting effectively with the inner strength Eliza acquires in the second act. The actress beautifully performed Eliza’s first public appearance, at the horse race, showing Eliza tottering on her high heels and overdoing the cultured manners that Higgins has taught her. For the ball at the end of act one, Eliza emerged truly elegant, even regal.

One brief instant lingered in Stan’s mind after the show. Midway through the second act, the actress allowed herself one brief facial expression and wave of the hand that belonged to the twenty-first century and not to the Victorian era. That brief grimace that young ladies use today to express, “What are you thinking? Are you even thinking?” fit the occasion in the script, if not the setting, and it ingrained the actress in Stan’s mind. It may have been a mistake on the part of the actress, but Stan took it as a sign that the actress was not merely playing a part: she had become Eliza Doolittle, and Eliza had become her. For the three hours of the show, they were one and the same person.

At his age, Stan did not need to be enraptured with a starlet no older than his oldest children. But the Internet was not his friend. Though he left his program behind at the theater, he was easily able to retrieve the name that he had forgotten and to find the starlet’s web site. There he could learn more about her professional career, watch video clips of her acting and singing and dancing, and download photographs of her onto his computer. Had he wanted, Stan could even have written a fan letter to her. He stopped short of that extreme, but when driving in the car he found himself studying the letters in the license plates of other cars, seeing if he could spell her entire first and last name from them before he reached his destination.

All this would have passed in three or four weeks if not for Irene. Irene was a newly hired member of Stan’s department, transferred from another department in the company. At first their paths rarely crossed, while she was being oriented to her new position. But one evening Stan stayed late at the public service desk, filling in for an employee on vacation, and Stan and Irene had their first conversation.

Irene, Stan noticed, strongly resembled the starlet who had played Eliza in My Fair Lady. Irene was a few years older and wore glasses, but she had a similar face, similar hair, and was of a similar build. Both Irene and the starlet brought to Stan’s mind a song he had heard many times in his childhood: “She had a dark and a roving eye, and her hair hung down in ringlets. She was a nice girl, a proper girl….” Irene was friendly, and she was interesting as well. Already obsessing himself over the actress, Stan began to mingle the two women in his mind.

The next time Stan was at the public service desk on his regular schedule, Irene came downstairs to use the copier by that desk. Stan didn’t know if someone else was using the copier upstairs, and he didn’t ask. They struck up a conversation, and Stan allowed himself to believe what he knew was probably untrue—he allowed himself to believe that Irene had chosen to use that copier at that time only because she wanted to talk again with him.

It was a standard Monday conversation—how was your weekend, what weather we are having, and the like. Stan commented that he had met his daughter’s kitten for the first time, and Irene said that she liked cats but her husband didn’t. The moment was soon over; she was done with the copier and returned upstairs. Stan’s time at the public service desk ended, and he returned to his regular desk. But all day long the song continued to echo in his head: “She had a dark and a roving eye, and her hair hung down in ringlets.”

That ringlets song, by the way, does not have a happy ending. It is sung as a warning to avoid that kind of girl. But Stan has not been particularly good about heeding warnings, not even when they have been part of his life for fifty years. Stan was smart enough to know that he should say goodnight to any thought of Irene, but he also knew what followed: “I’ll see you in my dreams.”

Twelve underappreciated Beatles songs

Between 1963 and 1970 the Beatles recorded and released more than two hundred songs, most of which they also wrote. Songs were released as singles (A and B sides), extended play (EP) albums of four songs, and long play (LP) albums of ten to fourteen songs. Around twenty-seven songs reached the number one position in the official charts of the United Kingdom (UK) and/or the United States. (Variations on how rankings were determined make this number vague.) Fifty-four songs were re-released in 1973 on the Red and Blue albums. Yet the Beatles created much more high-quality music than either of these summaries would suggest. What follows is a list of twelve songs that—with one exception—never cracked the top forty hits and that—again, with one exception—are not represented on the Red and Blue albums. Yet these songs are every bit as good as those Beatle songs that claimed those distinctions.

“Do You Want to Know a Secret” was one of fourteen songs on Please Please Me, the Beatles’ first album in the UK. It was later included on the American album The Early Beatles. When the Beatles shot to success in the United States at the beginning of 1964, record companies scrambled to release as many Beatles songs as they could, and “Do You Want to Know a Secret” peaked at the number two spot in the United States in May of that year. Afterward, it faded into obscurity. Like most of their early songs, “Do You Want to Know a Secret” is a cheerful love song, every bit as good as their earliest hits, “Love Me Do” and “Please Please Me.”

“If I Fell” was written by John Lennon for the movie A Hard Day’s Night to accompany Paul McCartney’s “And I Love Her.” Both songs are heard on the UK and American albums A Hard Day’s Night, as well as the American album Something New. When they were released together as a single, “And I Love Her” was designated the A-side and “If I Fell” the B-side. As a result, Paul’s song receives much more attention and was put on the Red Album. John’s song is as beautiful and as earnest as Paul’s, even though it qualifies the singer’s love with repeated “if”s. In the movie, John begins the song to raise Ringo out of a funk and succeeds.

“I’m a Loser” was one of John’s contributions to Beatles for Sale, a UK album whose songs were divided among several American albums—this song shows up on Beatles ’65, an album released for the Christmas market of 1964 in the United States. “I’m a Loser” laments a lost love, one that the singer confesses he should have worked to preserve. Like “If I Fell” and “Help,” “I’m a Loser” is personal and heartfelt, in contrast to many of Paul’s love ballads.

“I’ve Just Seen a Face” is an upbeat love song by Paul about love at first sight. Although it was not used in the movie Help!, it was released on the UK album of that name, later appearing on the American version of Rubber Soul. Paul thought enough of it to include it in his Wings over America tour of 1976 and in this live album made during that tour.

“What Goes On?” is credited to Lennon-McCartney-Starkey and thus is one of Ringo’s first compositions, even though he was helped by his bandmates. The song reflects the skiffle origins of the group (skiffle being a folk music style of the United Kingdom analogous to American country & western). In the UK it was released on Rubber Soul; in America, it was reserved for Yesterday… and Today.

“Here, There, and Everywhere” is one of Paul’s love ballads in the tradition of “Yesterday” and “Michelle.” It was released on both the UK and American versions of Revolver. With its soaring melodies, “Here, There and Everywhere” can stand with “Yesterday” and George Harrison’s “Something” as one of the Beatles’ most memorable songs.

“Good Day Sunshine” is also on both versions of Revolver. A cheerful love song, it is said to be inspired by American groups of the mid-1960s such as Lovin’ Spoonful. The Beatles were known for their experimentation with harmony, and “Good Day Sunshine” includes some interesting modulations that drive the energy of the song.

“Got to Get You into My Life” is possibly the best song on Revolver, high praise for a song that must compete not only with “Here, There, and Everywhere” and “Good Day Sunshine” but also with “Eleanor Rigby” and “Yellow Submarine.” A jazzy tune, it is accompanied by a brass section, a sound for which the later group Chicago would be known.

“I Will” continues Paul’s string of soulful love ballads. It is hidden on the White Album, filled with experimental songs written while the Beatles were in India. Oddly, Paul sings of his undying affection for a person he may never have met. Donavon is said to have contributed some of the lyrics to the song.

“Sexy Sadie” is also on the White Album. John began the song to express his disillusionment with the Maharishi, but the final version of the song sounds more like the agony of a relationship in which the boy is seeking the attention of the girl only to be snubbed.

“Across the Universe” has two versions. The version that is heard on Let It Be and on the Blue Album contains lush orchestrations created by Phil Spector, who produced the Let It Be album. The original version was chosen for the Past Masters compilation. The song features John’s stream-of-consciousness lyrics also featured in “Strawberry Fields,” “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” and “I am the Walrus.” Sounds of birds and the backing vocals of two randomly-chosen Beatles fans make this rarer version of “Across the Universe” worth finding.

“Oh! Darling” is one of Paul’s contributions to Abbey Road. Paul strains his voice to its limits in this performance, capturing the tone of a live performer on a tavern stage (which is how the Beatles developed their act before achieving fame and fortune). Like “Yesterday” and “I’m a Loser,” “Oh! Darling” captures the sorrow of an ending relationship, perhaps reflecting the closing weeks of the Beatles’ partnership as they set out on their solo careers.

None of these songs receive much attention on oldies stations. Yet, before the popularity of downloaded music, this collection of twelve tunes could easily have been assembled, given a snappy title like “Beatles Secrets,” and sold profitably as yet another collection of Beatles songs. J.

Beatles albums

Years after they disbanded, the Beatles remain the most successful rock group of all time. (I was going to attempt a joke about Stonehenge—which is seen in the Beatles’ movie Help!—but there was actually a band of that name in the 1970s.) People are still paying money to listen to the Beatles’ music, people are still writing books about the Beatles, and schoolchildren are still deciding which of the four is their favorite Beatle. The history of the recordings of Beatle music is more complicated than one might expect for such a popular group of musicians.

Early in 1963, the Beatles’ single “Please Please Me” reached the top of the music charts in the United Kingdom (UK). Their producer, George Martin, invited them into the Abbey Road studio to record an album which would also be called Please Please Me. In about twelve hours he recorded several takes of the songs that the Beatles were then performing in their live shows. The album shot to the top of the charts in the UK. Released in the United States as Introducing the Beatles, it did not initially fare well. After their successful concert tour (including two appearances on the Ed Sullivan Show) in February 1964, the album was periodically re-released under various titles. Its most successful American package was released in 1965 and was called The Early Beatles.

In spite of a heavy schedule of concert tours, the Beatles recorded six more albums before the middle of 1966. All of them reached number one on the UK charts: With the Beatles, A Hard Day’s Night, Beatles for Sale, Help!, Rubber Soul, and Revolver. From their first seven UK albums, the American market managed to squeeze eleven albums. They accomplished this three ways. First, the UK albums all had fourteen songs, but the American releases had only twelve songs—sometimes fewer. Second, the Beatles did not include their hit singles and B-sides on their UK albums, but these did appear on the American albums. Third, for the movie albums A Hard Day’s Night and Help!, the American versions used only songs that appeared in the movies and then filled the albums with instrumental tracks from the movies, while the UK versions included Beatle songs not used in the movies. Aside from those already mentioned, the other American albums as of 1966 were Meet the Beatles, The Beatles’ Second Album, Something New, Beatles ’64, Beatles VI, Rubber Soul, Yesterday… and Today, and Revolver.

Rubber Soul and Revolver showed increasing complexity and diversity in the Beatles’ music. When they stopped touring in 1966—their last scheduled live concert was August 29, 1966, in San Francisco—they were able to become a studio band, putting hours into creating each new song. Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was the first album to be released in the UK and the United States with identical songs. This was followed by Magical Mystery Tour which accompanied a made-for-TV movie of the same title, seen in the UK on December 26, 1967. The next year they released The Beatles, a two-disc album usually called “the White Album.” The last album they recorded was Abbey Road in 1969. In 1970, as the band was disintegrating, they finally released the songs they had recorded before Abbey Road as the album Let It Be, which accompanied a feature film of the same name. Meanwhile, the American industry managed to create two more albums, Yellow Submarine (which contains four new songs, two songs from previous albums, and an entire side of instrumental music from the cartoon movie of that name) and The Beatles Again—usually called “Hey Jude”—which consists of singles and B-sides that had been left off the albums.

The Beatles remained popular, so record companies continued to release new combinations of their music. In 1973 two releases, each consisting of two discs, appeared. Often called “the Red Album” and “the Blue Album,” these collections became the definitive catalog of Beatles music for the next generation of fans. Other collections were regularly released with various levels of success. When the Beatles music was remastered for CD release in the late 1980s, the UK albums were selected rather than the American albums. An additional two-disc release, Past Masters, contained the singles and B-sides which were not on the UK albums.

In 1995, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr cooperated in a massive undertaking called Beatles Anthology. The result was a television special (later released on VHS and DVD), a collection of studio outtakes and unreleased songs (released on cassette tapes and CDs), and a coffee-table book. John Lennon had been assassinated in December 1980, but his presence was very much felt in Anthology through previous interviews and other recordings. Two songs that he had recorded (not for release) were remastered with contributions from Paul, George, and Ringo, resulting in the first new Beatles music in several years.

All of this music remains available in a variety of formats. My next post will describe several songs by the Beatles which are, in my opinion, underappreciated. J.

Holidays

Labor Day weekend led me to thinking about the many different holidays we observe. My initial thoughts about holidays became too complex and entangled to post. Here, then, is a summary of my remarks about holidays.

Some holidays are truly holy days. Christmas and Easter stand at the head of this class, although over two thousand years the Church has marked many other days and seasons for celebrations and commemorations. For this reason, I don’t take part in the seasonal objection to “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” The world’s recognition that a certain day is holy should be encouraged, not resisted.

Other holidays are national holidays. In the United States we mark Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, and Thanksgiving, among others. All of these are declared by the government to be holy, time for us to set aside work, to enjoy life, and also to consider the blessings we have s citizens of the United States of America.

In the United States, certain days have been set apart to reflect the various cultures of which the American experience has been built. Saint Patrick’s Day, el Cinco de Mayo, Juneteenth, and Octoberfest all have developed as holidays that call attention to one or another ethnic groups in the United States.

Some holidays reflect the seasons as they change. Most cultures have, in some way, observed the solstices and equinoxes. Many Yuletide customs reflect more the change in seasons than the Incarnation of the Savior. Celtic and Germanic groups in pre-Christian Europe also marked the half-way points between solstices and equinoxes, laying the foundation for Groundhog Day, May Day, and Halloween.

Not all holidays are widely celebrated. Some are personal, celebrated only with family and close friends. Birthdays and wedding anniversaries fall within this category, and some families have other special commemorations to recall past events in their shared lives.

Families and nations sometimes commemorate sad events. September 11 and December 7 are days that “live in infamy” for most Americans. Once again, families might commemorate the loss of their loved ones on the anniversary of their deaths, or they might remember other sad or frightening experiences they have shared.

On my personal calendar, I like to add a few celebrity birthdays to celebrate in my own private way. The four Beatles, the seven main cast members of the original Star Trek, and a few other entertainers are listed on my calendar. They neither know nor care that I remember them on their birthdays. No one else really cares either. I don’t make a major celebration to mark their days, but I do happen to remember them on their birthdays.

Do you have any holidays that are special to you or unique? J.

 

Do I hear what you hear?

Siri and I have two things in common. Both of us are fairly adept at tracking down information to answer other people’s questions. Both of us have trouble hearing in a crowded room.

Yesterday I did some Internet surfing, curious to learn if a name exists for this difficulty, and, more important, if solutions for this difficulty have been found. Some sites suggested that this difficulty is caused by hearing loss. I am sure that’s not the case with me, because I can recall having this difficulty even in childhood. For that matter, my hearing in childhood was unusual, as a classroom test indicated that I could hear much higher pitches of sound than most of my classmates. This ability evidently has a genetic connection, as most of my family also hears high pitches. Did you know that the Beatles included the sound of a dog whistle at the end of the last track of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band? Do you know many people who can hear that whistle? My kindred can.

Hearing high-pitched noises is not always a good ability to possess. I can hear light bulbs, computers, and appliances that are silent for most people. I remember a singing refrigerator that only a few people could hear—those who couldn’t hear it thought we were inventing a story. The refrigerator alternated among three pitches, almost pleasantly musical. The fluorescent lights at work hum in a monotone that can be distracting, almost painful, when there are no other noises in the room to mask the sound.

But I digress. After skipping the web sites that suggested hearing loss, I found others that described “the cocktail party problem.” It turns out that the “problem” is not that of people like me who cannot focus on one person’s voice when several people are talking. The “problem” is finding an explanation for the fact that most people can filter background noise and hear and understand the one voice they want to hear. Machines like Siri still cannot do that, and researchers want to know why people can filter unwanted noise so they can improve machines. So far research has indicated that the difference is in the brain and not in the ears. Studies with human subjects and with mice are focusing more specifically on the brains of the listeners to determine exactly how the brain filters sounds according to the desire of the listeners.

As I did my research, I wondered if any link exists between “the cocktail party problem” which I have (which is the opposite of the “problem” being studied) and the autism spectrum. Autistic people tend to be overwhelmed by sensory input; that is one of the key signs and symptoms of autism. As far as I could determine, no researcher has explored that connection. If anyone out there is looking for a thesis topic for an advanced degree in psychology or in audiology, let me make that suggestion…

Meanwhile, I continue coping as I have always coped. I maintain eye contact with the person I want to hear, and I do my best to read his or her lips during conversation. I also nod and smile a lot, or I try to match his or her facial expression without being obvious in my mimicry. No doubt from time to time I have been guilty of an inappropriate response, but everyone makes that kind of mistake occasionally.

Now if I could just pass a city ordinance to ban leaf-blowers…. J.