September 17, 2009

Silly Schoolgirl Crush

I've been down in the basement today, painting trim to finish a project I'm working on.  Painting is a fairly mindless task.  Your brain splits into two operations.  In the basic mode, you're painting ... making sure that everything is covered,  looking for slops and muttering "shit" or "damn" when you make a mistake.  In the other mode, your mind is adrift, sifting through aimless thoughts, sometimes current, sometimes of things long past.

I dug out an old boom box and have it on an oldies station.  Through the morning, they've played more than one Beatles song.  I like the Beatles ... always have and always will.  At first, I was too embarrassed to admit I liked them, but I was about 10 or 11 years old when they made their big break, and at that age, if you're a boy, you're usually hesitant to admit out loud that you like anything of an arty nature.  I remember watching their first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show and being really impressed, at least until my Dad came in the room and turned it over to Bonanza or some shit like that.  It wasn't that my Dad didn't like the Beatles.  He just had a hard-on for Ed Sullivan for some reason I never determined.

Anyway, the Beatles arrival in the U.S. made a big splash with all the girls at my grade school.  All of the commotion caused us boys to become more than a little irritated and nonplussed.  At that age, a young man's sexuality is just starting to sputter to life, resulting in a lot of confused feelings.  We weren't sure if we liked girls or not, except for that one guy who is in every group who has a girlfriend in the 5th or 6th grade, and the rest of the guys give him a wide berth because you don't know if he's just way ahead of the learning curve or a homosexual.

But I think because all of the girls were going ape shit over the Beatles, that we were jealous.  We boys all reacted differently to this feeling.  Some taunted the girls for their perceived stupidity, but most of us kept silent and struggled to understand what the fuck was happening to them.

Every girl had their favorite Beatle.  The one she wanted to sire her child.  Most girls picked Paul and John.  A lesser number picked George.  I think my wife chose him, which a makes me wonder about her choice of me, but that's a story for another time.  Hardly anyone picked Ringo.  I questioned the reasoning of these few.  Did they choose Ringo for his looks?  His rapier wit?  Or, with everyone else picking Paul, John and George, were they just trying to be different?  I can tell you that the Paul/John lovers would tolerate the George lovers, but would absolutely shun the Ringo followers.

Of course, none of the boys liked any of them.  At least we said that.  As I look back on it, I was rather partial to Paul, but would never have admitted to myself or anybody else at that time.  Sputtering boy sexuality is confusing enough without having thoughts of dreamy Paul entering your conscious train of thought.

Totally almost off topic, I have a theory about the Beatles and their last minute choice of Ringo over Pete Best as drummer.  I firmly believe that this was a conspiracy hatched by Paul and John because they were afraid Pete Best was better looking than both of them and would not only hog the spotlight, but get all of the "good" women, relegating the rest to sloppy seconds.

I've yet to talk to a woman around my age who will either agree or disagree with this theory.

More often than not, they just move aside with a group of their girlfriends and start giggling.

Stupid girls. 

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