Hey Bulldog

 

At the Hotel St. Regis

Photo by Matthew Lewis Jr. 

 

Much love and thanks goes to Ingryd for cleaning up the top photo and for sharing the 2nd.

September 2, 1971

Smoking in the car

 

Stuck in Alaska

 August 28, 1966 -- Alaska.  The Beatles sure look bored when they were stuck in a hotel in Alaska on their way to Japan.  They were grounded due to a typhoon in Japan.   

Making the rounds

 May 30, 1986 

McBeardy on the loose

 May 12, 1971

Mother and daughter

 Heather and Linda McCartney at a birthday party for Denny Laine.  I have shared this photo in black and white in the past and there was a lot of discussion about if that is really Heather.  So I am going to share the back of this photo with you as well.   Denny's birthday is October 29.  When I turn the back of the photo upside down, it looks like it is stamped to have been printed "Nov 76."  While the date written is 1976-1977 -- it had to have been taken at Denny's birthday party in 1976 which makes Heather 13 going on 14 in December. 

Ringo Closes Book on Dark Page in the Past (1981)

Ringo Starr Closes Book on Dark Page in the Past

By Lynn Van Matre 

Chicago Tribune

March 25, 1981

    "We always knew that there were nuts out there," said Ringo Starr, reluctantly reflecting one more time on the topic of former Beatle John Lennon's death at the hands of a "fan" last December. "But it never crossed our minds that we were potential targets. I'm still sort of brain-damaged thinking about it, and I don't really like talking about it all the time. It doesn't help anybody, and it helps me even less. It puts everything back in people's minds. And once something like that happens, you got other crazoids that think it's a good idea. Certainly, entertainers are more security conscious these days, especially me and Paul and George."

     Starr and actress/fiance, Barbara Bach, accompanied by a couple of recently acquired bodyguards, stopped off in Chicago the other day to promote their new film, Caveman, the prehistoric comedy, as United Arts describes it features singer, actor, drummer and ex Beatle star in the role of a cave dweller who wants to drag  Bach off to his digs for a bit of zug zug. Zug zug, an expression of lust, is one of 15 words  (others include Bobo, caca, and gwee) that make up the entire dialog of the film. 

    Bach, a veteran of 22 films, including The Spy Who Loved Me, saw the film as an opportunity to try her hand at comedy again  (Up the Academy, her last effort, didn't go so well.) Starr, whose last acting role was that of Mae West's husband in the ill-fated flop Sextet, cottoned to the fact that Caveman didn't necessitate learning pages and pages of dialogue, and it was a load of laughs. "If you like to laugh and you want to smile, Caveman, just go down your aisle," Aasomewhat prejudiced Starr poetically appraised the project, which he and Bach described as a "family film."

     "It's PG," he adds, "and that's only because of a couple of scenes."

     "Actually, I can't imagine why it's PG instead of G," said Bach, a friendly, down-to-earth woman whose first glimpse of Ringo Starr in person occurred in the mid-60s when the Beatles played Shea Stadium, and Bach took her younger sister to see them.

     "Dinosaur dung," explained Starr succulently, "there are two scenes involving dinosaur dung. You can't show shit in a movie," he adds, bemused, "but it's okay to show stabbings and killings."

    Like many celebrities, Starr does interviews only when he has something to sell. "You only go on the road," he says, "When you have something to promote. This is the first film we've done together, and we wanted to promote it."

     But Starr figured from the beginning that most of the questions put to him along the route would have less to do with Caveman than with a killing. He was, of course, right. "I've answered the same questions about John's death over and over again," says Starr, politely resigning to the inevitable. "After this tour is over, that will be the end of it. I don't want to talk about it anymore. But now it's still fresh in people's minds. I can understand that a lot of people feel like they've lost a friend."

     Starr's last conversation with Lennon took place the day after Thanksgiving. "He was very upbeat," recalls Starr. "He was excited that his new album was selling, and he had some songs he thought I should do on my new album. He was going to play on the album and produce a couple of tracks, and we had made plans to start recording in January." Three weeks later, Starr and Bach were vacationing in the Bahamas when Bach's daughter called from Los Angeles to tell them Lennon had been shot. 

    "We thought it must be a mistake at first", said Starr, "Then we got three more calls from friends confirming the news."  Of the three surviving former Beatles, only Starr showed up at the Dakota Hotel where Lennon's widow, Yoko Ono, mourned.

    "Well, I was out of my own area anyway," says Starr, a legal resident of Monte Carlo who lives in Los Angeles with Bach and her children by a previous marriage. "George and Paul were at home, so it was no big deal for us to leave the Bahamas. We hardly felt like having a holiday after that, so we decided to fly to New York and say hello to Yoko. Our friend was gone. Her husband was gone. All we wanted to do was say hello and see if there was anything we could do."

     Initially, Ono, who knew Bach only slightly, asked that Starr come to the Dakota alone. He refused, explaining that he and Bach went everywhere together. Ono understood, and the pair arrived at the apartment building where Lennon had been shot only hours earlier. "It wasn't safe," said Star. There wasn't a good atmosphere. "

    "We went on impulse," added Bach, "And when we got there, we realized it wasn't the safest place to be. We stayed in New York for eight hours, and after the visit, we realized we should get out of there."

     The world's reaction to Lennon's death surprised Starr little. "It did affect the whole world," he said. "John did in life and in death. I wasn't surprised by the amount of publicity. Though, I was surprised at the amount of trash. Every newspaper in the world had it in the headlines, which was their right But then you had everybody's story coming out. Like 'I knew John Lennon 200 years ago,' or some waiter's 53-page account of the day John Lennon said to me, 'More coffee.' Everyone was selling their story, but that's life. You get used to it. And every interview we've talked to on this tour so far has asked about John, and every future one we  will talk to on this tour will too. It's normal, it's natural, it's newsworthy, and now let's go on."

     There will be, incidentally, no Lennon tribute album, as was widely reported and rumored earlier. "I spent a week with Paul doing some work on his new album, and he produced some of my tracks for me," said Starr, whose new album is scheduled for a summer release. "It was just the two of us, but someone decided that, because Paul had asked a lot of people to join in on his new album, it was going to be a John Lennon tribute. I denied it over and over, but nobody took any notice."

     As for rock music in general, Star finds the scene to be a bit monotone. "I keep looking for something that will blow me away, send me home. And I enjoy a lot of new and old groups, but there are very few people around that I would run out and buy their albums. Not that I'm a great writer, but I don't think they're writing that many great songs today. I don't think the playing is that great on a lot of records, either.

     "There are some good tracks on a lot of albums, but it's very rare that I could stand to listen to a whole album by anybody, including myself. The only record I can think of that I can play all of side one and all of side two, and enjoy the whole thing every time, is an old Tim Hardin record, the one with " If I Were a Carpenter " and " Misty Roses " on it. 

    "The new bands", he laments, "don't want to change and explore too much, or else, explore in a very narrow band instead of a wide field. Take Devo," he says, "they're interesting to a very specific portion of the population. They seem to stay that way, rather than trying to cover a lot of bases, which is what someone like Elton John did, and what I tried to do. I'm not aiming just at teenagers or people in their 20s or their 50s or their 90s. I try to hit them all. And the Beatles? We tried to cover everybody, from your daughter to your grandmother. What happens with a lot of bands," Starr says, "is that the first album is dynamite, lots of energy, but then you've got to come up with the second one, and that can be hard. We found it difficult too. I'm not saying that the newer bands are going through anything that we didn't go through. We weren't any less restricted than they are, but we managed to get past that and change constantly. We're exploring all the time. The new bands just want to play it safe."

A night out in Brussels

 

March 22, 1986

Sweet Sweet Connie

 

Ringo with famous groupie "Sweet Connie" during the 1989 All- Starr tour,  Connie had been friends with Joe Walsh, who was also on this tour for a long time, so I would guess that is why she was invited and had this photo taken. 

Have a smoke

Photo by Richard Young

 This appears to be at the Back to the Egg party in 1979.  Google tells me that the man with Paul is Harvey Goldsmith.

Beatles Take Ticket to the Top! (1965)

 Beatles Take Ticket to the Top!

By Nigel Hunter

Disc Weekly

April 17, 1965

    It all started four months ago during rehearsals for The Beatles' Christmas show at the Hammersmith Odeon. Beatle publisher, Dick James, went down there on one of his periodic visits to the boys in connection with John and Paul's songwriting activities.

     "I sat with Paul in the stalls watching some of the other acts," he recalled. "Then Paul sang a few snatches of melody to me, which he and John had in mind for future songs."

     Soon afterwards, John started on some of the same tunes Paul had been singing out front. "There's a sort of title I've got in my mind, which I can't get rid of," he told Dick. "She's got a ticket to ride." Dick liked the phrase, for it was a slightly more original idea than usual for expressing goodbye and parting. He encouraged John and Paul to work on it, and the matter passed into the back of his mind for a while.

     "Ticket to Ride" next cropped up in early February, when Beatles A&R man George Martin joined John in Switzerland for some skiing. "One evening, John borrowed a guitar from their skiing instructor and strummed through a tune. I liked it straight away," said George, "and John said he'd get together with Paul as soon as he got back to London and finish it off.

    "It went in with the rest of the songs the boys had lined up for their forthcoming film, and it was one of the first we recorded during the week in the studios before they went off to the Bahamas on location."

     Dick James came back on the scene during the recording sessions. He always visits the Beatles at the St John's Wood studio, so he can keep right up to the minute on the progress of the boys' songs. 

    "As usual, I received a rough acetate of 'Ticket to Ride' when it had been cut exactly as it was, without any technical treatment."

    The song was then registered with the British Museum in the same way that every newspaper, magazine, and book published is registered by a copy being deposited there. The contract for John and Paul was drawn up, and the song was registered with the Performing Rights Society to safeguard its copyright and royalties when performed live by other singers or bands, and with the mechanical copyright protection society, which fulfills a similar function where disc versions are concerned. 

    Dick says that John and Paul's enthusiasm is a major factor behind the success of "Ticket to Ride"; like all their other hits, it's his recipe for success all the way in pop music: enthusiasm plus talent. "They really work at their songwriting. A lot of their ideas and groundwork happen in hotels, dressing rooms, and while traveling, and often George and Rigo help out too when they've got something definite that needs to be finished. 

    "Then John and Paul will lock themselves away and get on with it until it's completed to their satisfaction."

     That's the story of "Ticket to Ride," a phrase John Lennon couldn't get out of his mind, a snatch of melody worked out by Paul and him, a tryout for George Martin on a Swiss skiing instructor's guitar, plus unlimited enthusiasm and talent. 

Rehearsing Ringo

November 20, 1965

 

A Day in the Studio

 

Good Friends for life

 October 11, 1990 

Zapata Premiere

 September 17, 1975

Questions for Paul

 

Back Seat rider

 

But What Are the Beatles REALLY Like? (1964)

 But What Are the Beatles REALLY Like?

By Gerry Barker

The Toronto Star

September 12, 1964

     Traveling with the Beatles is like riding a roller coaster. You never know what to expect around the next bend. Their life is a semi-organized roundelay of press conferences, riotous concerts, dashes to airports, hotels, and a wide assortment of stadiums.

    Yeah, puts a questionnaire, but what are they really like? 

    Last week, I chased the Beatles and had an opportunity to find out something about the four boys. My first glimpse came when they were ushered into a corner of a huge basement of Philadelphia's huge Convention Hall, surrounded by a phalanx of riot season police. 

    The first impression smacks you across the face like a wet fish. They're short, untidy, and look like they need a bath. Amid a spontaneous round of applause, The Beatles sit down, swinging shaggy heads to left and right, asking advisors and hangers-on about the procedure. 

    People surge closer, flashbulbs start popping. Leading the advance on the boys is a determined group of youngsters armed with notepads and Brownie cameras. Please stare in disbelief. A clutch of beautiful women sit demurely, hoping for a nod or a wink. Reporters and photographers start complaining about the amateurs hogging the best spots. A cleaner ignores the scene and sweeps away the debris caused by the throng, which has been waiting for more than an hour. Ringo asks for a drink, and a Beatle staffer starts pouring pop into paper cups. Paul McCartney and John Lennon are wearing ties. George Harrison sits and grins. 

    The conference begins with admonishments. "All official press must be seated at the front, "drones promoter Moe Septee, heavily perspiring under the glare of TV lights. "Youngsters under 16 must move to the rear of the room. We will allow the photographers to shoot still pictures first, then we will answer questions from the press. After that, the radio and television people will conduct interviews with the Beatles."

     It didn't turn out that way, everybody, including the 12-year-old daughter of a friend of promoter Septee, asked questions. A couple of policemen asked for autographs in the middle of everything, and one of the Beatles' staffers said the radio men were "pigs". 

    When the shamble was over, the boys were rushed out, followed by a sea of admirers. Some of the attractive young women were steered upstairs to meet the Beatles. Following the concert, The Beatles and their entourage race by limousine to the airport under heavy police guard. They take off into the night for Indianapolis in the plush chartered plane, leaving behind 1000s of wet-eyed children. 

    There are problems in Indianapolis. John Lennon's throat kicks up. The British reporters traveling with the Beatles are quartered in the locker room of the Speedway Motel because no one arranged accommodations for them. Someone telephoned the police that there was a bomb aboard their chartered plane. The bomb threat was ignored. The Beatles are used to this kind of thing, and an understanding Doctor shoots Lennon with some penicillin. He also doled out prescriptions for a mild pep pill that the boys called "Purple Hearts". 

    Ringo breaks out of the security wall as the sun comes up and visits a nearby dairy farm under the nervous eye of a Deputy Sheriff. John Lennon gets out later in the morning for a couple of practice swings with a golf club. The Beatles on tour are impossible to reach. Youngsters jam hotel switchboards whenever they go. Telegrams from important people are largely ignored. In Los Angeles, Liz Taylor asked to meet the boys, but was turned down.  She asked for  and received autographs for her children.

     In Indianapolis, all the boys telephoned England. They admit to being bad letter writers.  Here, Colonel Tom Parker, the man who transformed Elvis Presley into a teen idol a generation ago, talked to all of the Beatles on the telephone from Hollywood. This immediately sparked rumors that the Beatles are going to dump their manager and discoverer Brian Epstein. They torpedoed the story by chorus saying, absolutely not. 

    "Our relationship with Brian is ideal," Paul McCartney told me, "We'd be fools to even consider altering our arrangement."  It would be difficult to erase Epstein because he is tied to the Beatles in an unsnippable, corporate umbilical.

     Epstein, the impeccable English department store operator, is a 50/50 partner in NEMS, the company which controls all of the Beatles' outside operations, including the paraphernalia of Beatlemania, and last year, is reported to have grossed $50 million in proceeds from all concerts, television appearances, films, and recordings. Epstein earns 25%.

     "We, frankly, don't know how much money we have," says George Harrison. "You'll have to ask our accountant." He added that none of the Beatles would ever have to worry about money again.  One report states the boys are worth $14 million each.

     On the road in North America, The Beatles do not require cash. McCartney says he still has the 50 quid (or $140) he arrived with.  All of their wants and desires are handled by signing the bills, usually by traveling manager Derek Taylor, or one of his assistants.

     In Milwaukee, at the Coach House, in preparation for the boys' arrival, it took all morning. Porters trundled specially purchased Scotch and cartons of milk into their suites. The boys normally drink scotch and water, soft drinks, or tea with milk. They deny that they drank Scotch with Coke.

     It was here in Milwaukee that The Beatles' ship ran aground. John Lennon, afflicted with a sore throat, was grumpy and didn't turn up at the press conference. The balance of the Beatles were angered over overzealous police,security. "We want to see our fans", says Harrison. "We know they wait to see us, and the least we can do is give them a wave or two."

     The Beatles, while appreciative, are not touched by the tremendous crowds they encounter. They regard it as sport to run the gauntlet at airports and hotels through the crowds, who frequently have jackets or shirts torn. A favorite answer to the question of what would the boys do if the fans broke through police protection is "die laughing."

     While the group is surrounded by a harried management team, they possess a characteristic air of British unflappability. Behind their security screen, the Beatles spend much of their time sleeping, reading mail, amusing themselves with gifts sent by fans, watching television, and gambling. McCartney is the poker-playing Beatle, while the whole group joined in a rousing crap game aboard the plane on the route to Milwaukee. 

    Traveling in a Beatles limousine dictates a definite drill: all doors must be locked and windows rolled up. Drivers are instructed that cars are to stay as close together as possible so that fans do not isolate the vehicles. It is miraculous that no one has been injured in the high-speed police-escorted surface dashes. My indoctrination to the Beatles dash came in Detroit, where police escorted the caravan from the Whittier hotel to the Olympia Arena at speeds of up to 70 miles per hour through the downtown area. This trip started out with youngsters and cars trying to cut in and out at high speeds, but were quickly turned aside by tailgating cruisers. Two motorcycle policemen collided at one intersection while the convoy shot down the street. 

    At performances, youngsters will frequently attempt to rush the stage and capture souvenirs. In Detroit, equipment manager Malcolm Evans, a former bouncer in the Cavern Club in Liverpool, where the boys were discovered, bounced two boys off the stage following the first show as they attempted to seize Ringo's drumsticks, a favorite target.

 Wherever the Beatles go, there's a convoy of birds (the boys' description of attractive girls). They will pop up at press conferences, be found lounging around hotel lobbies, and even check into hotels. Not all the hotels are as rigid about the rules as the Lafayette in Atlantic City, where the boys rested for two days. There, the management refused to allow any women near the Beatles' suite.

    When the Beatles arrived at their King Edward hotel suite in Toronto, there was a young girl waiting. She was quietly ushered out. 

 On the road, the Beatles are the boss. They have explicit faith in manager Derek Taylor, who makes most decisions regarding their welfare.  An advanced man for General Arts Corp, the firm booking the North American tour makes all the travel arrangements in each city. The promoter is responsible for arranging the press conferences and special interviews, if any. Taylor runs the press conference and fends off the inevitable request for the Beatles to plug this product or meet that public official.  In Toronto, Mayor Philip Given was turned away when he came to call on the Beatles. 

Major irritants for The Beatles, says George Harrison, are the ever-present ring of local officials, policemen, hotel executives, customs agents, and community leaders who use their position of privilege to get autographs. They also become impatient over delays in traveling.

 My impression of the Beatles? They're an uninhibited, casual, downright funny group of young men who will be around for a long time.

Press Conference in color

 June 25, 1965