The house is rocking: “I Get By with a Little Help from myFriends”.  In another moment, the mood haschanged completely “As My Guitar Gentle Weeps”. Right now, there are four boysplaying various instruments, vocalizing and sometimes harmonizing to BeatlesRock Band down in my basement. Along with my son and his teen friends, John,Paul, George and Ringo live on. It’s like they’ve never left us. The four tall,skinny mop-heads from Liverpool have been partof my family’s lives since we heard them first in 1964.  All four of us know their names, theirinstruments, most of the words to most of their songs.  Donald has all the major albums sitting on ashelf downstairs.  The turntable nolonger works, but we will not part with those albums.  It’s Beatle songs we sing in the car on roadtrips. On a trip to NYC, we visited first the DakotaBuilding where Lennon lived, and thenthe Imagine mosaic in Central Park that YokoOno made in his honor. Who would have imagined the Beatles would be such avital link connecting my husband and I to our children’s generation?

My first attachment to the Beatles, even more than theirsongs was their appearance on the Ed Sullivan show. My dad, dead these manyyears, liked the Beatles, too.  Then,since we did not listen to the radio, or purchase many LP’s, it was the Beatlescartoon on TV.  John was my favorite,more than Paul or George who were considered cuter, or Ringo, who was just kindof goofy.  Donald was serious about musicfrom early on, and eagerly sought and memorized each new Beatles album as itcame out, through all their evolutions. For a time, I was puzzled and put off by the political and protestelements in John’s music, dismayed that the band was torn apart and seemingly corruptedby the bad influences of the ‘60s and ‘70s. It wasn’t until later that I saw that each member was growing, maturing,changed by success, world travel and altered perceptions. 

Now I know that had they followed the same pop formula, theywould have been quickly outmoded, outdated, and ridiculous. It’s that aspect ofchange, their experimentation and innovation that I now appreciate themost.   They were, ultimately, somusical, mixing such different styles and types of instrumentation. I like,too, that they were a true group, each of them contributing, as opposed to the“auteur” singer/songwriter who might have a terrific backing band, but it’s asingle vision or viewpoint that comes through. 

Always, at the back of my mind, I wondered how those humblelads managed to produce so much music of lasting value, seemingly out ofnowhere. It was the times, of course, and the spark of rock catching from musicianto musician across the continents.  Thoseboys wanted to be emulate other musicians, the sound, the excitement, alifestyle so different from the relatively depressing nine to five jobs of theadults in their worlds.  It may, also,have been that Irish streak.  In thecourse of my genealogical research, I came across a couple websites on famouspeople/artists of Irish descent, including Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison. Thereason they were in Liverpool was the Famine,forcing their ancestors to look for work abroad.  Irish, and Catholic – minorities within in agreat colonial power, one of the greatest – in a sense, outsiders looking in,questioning and rebellious. 

I like to think it’s the genius within every one of us, eventhose we suspect least. Like my community college students, there are diamondsin the rough.  Not that everyone of themis brilliant in the same way.  I thinkit’s the times, the combination of personalities, the circumstances that arise,and the fearlessness of those who have not much to lose, and are willing todeal with discomfort on the way to where they want to be.  No one had reason to think John Lennon wasthe artist and thinker he turned out to be. Maybe it was the exposure to allkinds of life experiences. Maybe the refusal to be defined as “nothingspecial”.   And, largely, it was the continual practice ofhis art, his craft that got him better and better, even when not to his bestcommercial interests.  I love the Beatlesbecause they were four boys making music in the basement, who grew into men whothought about the world and yet remained playful. John, Paul, George and Ringo;they’re welcome to play in my basement any time.