Note: I wrote this a week ago, and set it to publish on Feb. 10th. Now, see the side note at the end. Well, read the piece first, THEN read the note. The timing was merely a happy coincidence.
The Beatles. John, Paul, George, Ringo. Oh! How I adored them. They wanted to hold my hand. They loved me, yeah, yeah, yeah. And they gave me all their lovin’. Paul was my second celebrity crush. Elvis was my first, but we aren’t talking about him right now.
The first time I saw the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, my seven-year-old self was enraptured, while my dad was aghast at their hair. “Freida,” he cried, “Come look at these boys’ hair!”
I watched Mom walk into the living room to investigate what he was fussing over. The Beatles. I’d plopped myself down on the floor in front of our black and white screen tv and instantly fallen head over heels in love. They were all adorable, but Paul was the one. He sang to me. I knew that every word from his mouth was intended for me and me alone.
(That’s not me above, but it could’ve been)
If I’d been a little bit older, I’d likely have had more lustful feelings for Paul, but at seven, I just felt love in its purest form. He was adorably earnest with a mischievous smile. Unobtainable and safe. Every little girl should have such a love.
Was the music a part of it? Certainly. Who could resist Love Me Do?
I fall in love all over again when I hear this song.
Side note: On Feb. 9th 1964, the Beatles played their first television appearance on the Ed Sullivan show.
Peace and love, people!