Okay, I figured I might as well share my story, even though a certain couple of people already know it...
It's a long one, so you might wanna get comfortable/put on a Beatles record/cuddle your Beatle of choice/whatever.
It starts with my dad. He's about three years younger than George would be now, so he was a teen when The Beatles first hit big. He instantly loved them, and idolized John in particular. He started singing and taught himself to play guitar, dropped out of his job and ran off to France with the first band that picked him up. He played all sorts of places, including cruise ships that went all over the world, and he even got to play in Hamburg a few years after The Beatles did. He's even played the Star Club! Can you imagine that? Knowing you were standing in the same place as The Beatles had done?
And he married my mum and they had me, and while my mum worked a rubbish, stiff job in an office, he carried on trying to make it big like John. But it just never happened. The Beatles meant more to him than near enough anything, so he never stopped trying. Eventually, as you can imagine, the fact that my dad was constantly broke got to my mum, and the fact that he neglected us quite a bit. He'd gig all night, then sleep all day and the moment he got up, he'd either be writing songs, booking gigs or out playing with other musicians or spending money we barely had. When I was about four, my mum just snapped and asked him which he cared about more, chasing a dream, or raising a child?
And you can guess he picked music. They divorced while I was too early to really remember him, so I just kept getting postcards from him, from all over the world, saying what musical stuff he was doing and that he missed me. It was strange though, cos I didn't really know who he was. Funny though, that when I started primary school, I started to like The Beatles. Obviously because I was so young, I didn't really have any taste, so naturally I listened to a lot of crap that the pop industry in the 90's, but at the same time, I had a certain taste for older music. I distinctly remember listening to The Police and Queen, among other things, as well as The Beatles. I never thought much of it, but I always knew all the words and sang them all the time.
I don't know how much you can "inherit" musical things from parents, but I think my dad's love of music passed to me somehow. When I was seven, I started classical piano lessons, and my music teacher told my mum that I was quite naturally musically inclined. It kinda went along like that for a while, until I actually fell in love with music properly, when I was about thirteen. You know how it happens; one day you're sitting there, and the next you hear a big teenage anthem by some popular band at the time, and you're suddenly hooked. I don't know why it took me so long, but suddenly I just started to love music more than anything. I started singing properly, and taught myself instruments. By the time I'd left high school, I could play the guitar, bass and drums as well as piano. Anyone see a pattern forming here? :p
As well as learning to love music, I did learn properly about why my parents split, and all about my Dad's love for The Beatles. It bothered me obviously, but I didn't blame The Beatles personally for it. I liked their music too much, I think, even if I didn't really know who they were. And it went on from there; I did Music Technology at college and came out with full marks, and knocked around in a few bands, one of which was damn fun and caused a decent ruckus in local pubs! And then took a year out to get money and work towards my university place.
Last year, my dad got this rich new girlfriend who was dead annoying and posh, but when they invited me to stay at their place in Tenerife for a week, I said yes anyway, because I never get to see my dad, and I thought it'd be cool to get out of the country. Bad move! I absolutely hated being there, where the weather was too hot, the people were loud, constantly half naked and nearly ALL English, and my dad's stupid girlfriend was there sneering at me all the time. I was really quite upset too, cos my dad had invited me on this trip and then kinda ignored me. It was his birthday while we were out there, and I'd got him some CDs, so we put those on. While he was listening, I suddenly saw CDs of "A Hard Day's Night" and "Help!" on the table, so I started looking at them out of interest. Then he turned around and said "you don't just wanna look at those bad boys, get listening!" and he snatched them out of my hand and put on "A Hard Day's Night". The ENTIRE night turned into the biggest Beatle-fest I've ever known. We listened to every album, my dad sitting there and giving me a runthrough of why each one was great and why The Beatles were such clever songwriters. I was just completely in awe, and I remember thinking that the songs were very exciting and cleverly written. We went on and on until god knows what time, and I think it was especially special to me because I'd never seen my dad look so happy in his whole life. I've never seen him so enthusiastic, and in all fairness I could see the love that he had for The Beatles, that his love for me couldn't match. So we sat there and I just took everything in, and then all too soon he said we should get some sleep. I remember somehow thinking about how happy I was, and thinking "I bet I never hear The Beatles like that again", like it was some kind of one night stand or something. I don't know why, but I just felt like I'd never experience them at that level of happiness again.
But thank Christ almighty, I was wrong! Just as I was shuffling around in bed, waking up, my first thought was about The Beatles, and how I'd probably never share that with my dad again... and I heard my dad sitting on the couch in the other room, with his guitar, playing "Here Comes The Sun", and singing like he was George himself. I'm not sure why, but something clicked that morning, and I've never been more in love with a band since. When I got home, I bought and borrowed everything I could on The Beatles, and completely fell in love with them as people, and their music, like I'm sure my dad did when he was my age.
So I guess things worked out alright in the end. In all honesty, I probably should have been angry at The Beatles when I was younger for being the thing that made my dad leave, but the funny thing is, me and my dad are more alike as people than I've ever known anyone to be, and I can't help but love The Beatles as much as he does. The Beatles make me happier than anything else in the whole world, and I wouldn't change a thing now that I've got them, not even if it meant my parents never divorcing.
And anyway, my dad might have chosed John over me, but in the end, I chose John over him too, so I guess that makes us equal.
And that was WAY longer than I'd anticipated! I apologise for being a long-winded, potentially self-indulgent idiot who types way too fast! :p
xxx
