The Beatles hit the big time when I was a young teen. There was mass hysteria among teenage girls like myself, crying and screaming. OMG, the crying and screaming! For a certainty, I was competing with all the other girls, in our collective histrionics, to prove I was cool! (Bulldozed by peer pressure?) Is this the equivalent of Taylor Swift mania today?
Once The Fab Four arrived in the US, we were pinned to the TV, watching them deplane. And, oh my, their breathtaking (if you were 14) Ed Sullivan Show performance. The teenage girl population of the US seemed to be in one hysterical swoon.
John, Paul, Ringo, and (oh, yes) George. You had to have a favorite Beatle. Paul and John, as the lead singers, jousted for the NO. 1 SPOT. Ringo was, well, Ringo - an offbeat character, an attractive curiosity who was extremely fond of wearing multiple rings. And George. The quiet Beatle, the one whose hair often hung down, covering his face, while he played guitar. Almost invisible.
Such a relief when, eventually, life moved on (as did our teenage hormones) and the Beatles receded to background music. (It’s a pun.) Certainly, it was unsettling when they broke up. I mean, Yoko Ono, apparently purloining John Lennon? Not going there….
Present day. Many, many days past Beatlemania, and the crying and screaming of my early teen years. Both John and George have died, Ringo is still Ringo, and Paul is now Sir Paul McCartney. And your former, slim, early teen (me) has reached the stage where a daily ride on my stationary bike (twice, if possible) is a wrenching necessity. Oh my, a necessity I could never, ever, have contemplated during the days of raging Beatlemania when middle or old age was unfathomable. Those growth stages were totally beyond the horizon of my imagination. (You know what I mean?)
These twice-daily stationary bike rides provide an impetus to make cycling boredom more palatable. And when I say “palatable,” I don’t mean eating dark chocolate while cycling! (Hmmm, that hadn’t occurred to me….) I do have a musical soundtrack, courtesy of Amazon, on my AI unit known as Alexa. To choose a greater variety of songs, I would need to acknowledge my hostage status, to Amazon, and pay EVEN more money, monthly. Nix on that. But my waistline (actually, my vanity) is dependent on this boring activity.
Suddenly, the image of the late George Harrison popped into mind. Huh? Little did I realize that the universe was about to offer me a full-on life lesson via the invisible Beatle, George Harrison.
Full-on life lesson? That’s nice. But, first, I need to know how George got here.
Early on, having completely written off George as the invisible Beatle, I forgot he had a solo career after the Beatles broke up. I mean, what the heck, most of his music was still free on Amazon Prime.
And I gave it a listen. And was a goner. A goner for my long ago rejected George Harrison. I discovered, belatedly, that his lyrics have touching drifts of spirituality and mindfulness that are also intrinsically woven into my own life. In total sync with the me of today. And thanks to the George Harrison infusion on my soundtrack, I just keep peddling…
But, wait, please! You don’t want to miss the moral of this story, do you? For most of my many years, I’ve been a “one-and-done” decision-maker. Make a decision and that’s it (often forever.) George’s reappearance in my life teaches me that “one and done” decisions foreclose the possibility of more light entering and expanding my life. I need that light to better to see what I might not see without it. Thanks, George.
All Things Must Pass is an amazing album. I hope you’re listening as you (stationary) cycle!
George was my favorite.