So Beatle George Did it! (1966)

 

So Beatle George Did It

By Phyllis Battelle

The Plain Dealer

January 30, 1966

    "Dear George," a New York City teenager, wrote Beatle George Harrison. "Please try and understand that I don't love you because you're a Beatle, but because you're you. Now you are probably saying, 'oh, all the girls tell me that', but I don't want you to call me now. You better wait till you fizzle out. Always and forever. Lois "

     Poor Lois. George could neither fizzle nor wait. He was married last week to a young model named Pattie. While 1000s of American girls mourn the loss of their idol to the forces of Cupid and conventionality, pity Alice of Chicago, who pleaded with George, "Marry me, and I promise I won't be a drag."

     Those who have met and listened to the philosophies of The Beatles cannot help but rejoice that Harrison has himself hitched. He is a likable young man, probably the most amused and least bemused of the famous foursome. And I thought after spending four days with The Beatles, the one most likely to succeed at matrimony.

     "I've got no girlfriend," George said coolly last March, "but you know, I'm not ready to do anything about it yet.

     "Life was pretty complicated for us. For a time, we had so much on our plates. All at the same time, it was really confusing. You don't want to involve a girl in that kind of confusion. When we start making more films and doing less traveling, that'll be the time, maybe, to well, you know, I'll just get married when I feel like it. "

    Not only did Harrison sound sensible for a suddenly famous young man, he was modest, a realist. Asked if his marriage, when and if it took place, wouldn't hurt the image of the Beatles. He looked surprised. "Maybe it would, come to think of it, but I'm more worried about personal happiness than world happiness. And anyway, I shouldn't think anyone would get hysterical about such a great event."

     George was equally unimpressed with his talent, though many critics have called him the best musician in the quartet. "Musicianship? Just average, I suppose. As a group, we're good, but if you break us down, there's much better musicians around."

     I was amused to read that at his wedding, Harrison wore a black Victorian-style suit. It reminded me that one day when we were chatting, he was wearing an unusual chamois jacket. "You like it?" He asked when I remarked it looked unusual. "I got it in the Canary Islands, and then I dug it up after about three years and started wearing it. I guess it's a little unusual, but you just get bored with wearing the same thing all the time, don't you?

     "And it's a hard thing finding different things to wear, different lapels, different epaulets. I know I'm called 'the quiet one'. It isn't that I'm really shy, not at all. It's just that I get bored easily. You would too if people kept asking you, 'How do you comb your hair?'

     "But I'm getting better at coping with boredom. I've learned how to sit around airports and dressing rooms and having people I don't know always around us, although I must say, I like to get away and have a bit of privacy." Once in a while, that meant he admitted privacy from John Paul and Ringo as well.

     Well, George found privacy last week with the girl he dated for two years before taking the giant step. She should have a good life, because George Harrison doesn't intend to have anything less. 

    "I love luxury," he said, "and have yet to find somebody who doesn't. So I'll keep on working as hard as I can to keep it now that I've got it."

     He looked philosophical as he added, "It would be much harder, I think, to work up to wealth as the Beatles have, and then lose it, than to be born loaded and lose it all. At least a born rich man, if he gets poor, is trying something new for the first time."

"Great or Grate? - It Depends"

 

Great or Grate? It Depends

By Gay Stilley/Joy Stilley

 (AP story)

February 13, 1964

Editor's Note, Joy Stilley and her daughter, Gay, 13, watched the Beatles and their fans. They saw things differently:

Gay's story:

     The whole thing was just too much. After seeing the Beatles Wednesday night at Carnegie Hall, I'm still in a daze. My throat is out of commission from screaming. I'm completely drained of emotion.  

   Well, not completely. I'm still wildly enthusiastic about the Beatles, who were fantastic, even if some middle-aged reviewers might say "noisy" was a more appropriate word. Along with all the other teenagers, I was screaming, clapping, and stamping my feet.

     They sang with such enthusiasm that you sometimes could hear them even above the screams of the crowd. They've got so much personality that, somehow, it just oozes out into the audience. They beamed out into the audience as if they were having a great time and were glad to be there. Everyone in the audience beamed back at them; at least the ones with enough strength left did.

     I think it's ridiculous to say that without their crazy clothes and haircuts, The Beatles would be nowhere. But it's true that these things do add somewhat to their charm. 

    For part of the show, I was sitting at the side of the stage, where I had a terrific view of the backs of their heads. It was great. Every time they started shaking and shimmying, their hair fell in ripples down the back of their neck. It isn't every girl who gets to see that. They sang all of their most popular songs, including their two top US hits. Of course, sometimes it was pretty hard to tell which songs they were singing above the roar of the crowd, but all it took was a little lip reading. When they sang the more lively ones, the audience went wild. The people were actually twisting and shouting.

     So if you read any unfavorable reviews of the Beatles, ignore them and bear in mind that they were written by doddering middle-age adults who don't understand the Beatles and shouldn't even try to. The Beatles are strictly for teenagers. And all we can say is We Love Them. Yeah yeah yeah yeah!

Joy's Story:

    There never was a concert before in Carnegie Hall like the one England's Beatles put on Wednesday night. Never have so many screeched so loud. The stage, which was lit up constantly by the flashbulbs of picture-taking fans, was patrolled throughout the program by uniformed guards.

     A large segment of the audience was seated on the stage. The music was about as loud as it is possible for music to be but not quite loud enough to be heard above the frantic clapping, screaming, and seat-bouncing activities of the Beatle lovers, not by any means all teenagers.

     Bedlam was a general rule throughout the time the long-haired rock and rollers were performing, but each time a member of the foursome announced the number to be played, the din went up a few decibels. 

    The enthusiasm of the Beatlemaniacs extended even to the local disc jockeys. They received their share of high-pitched yelps when they brought on the boys they had popularized. The show left its audience with sore hands, raw throats, spots in their eyes, fractured eardrums, and smiling faces.