The Beatles gave us music and they lifted our mood
By PATRICK BUTTERS
January 30, 2004
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It was 40 years ago today blah blah blah yeah yeah yeah.
That riff from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" starts off more Beatles stories than even " 'Tis the season" does around Christmas.
Yet cliches emerge from brilliant works for a reason. The mood at the time does seem relevant when talking about Feb. 7, 1964, the day America welcomed John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr.
Why did 3,000 of America's youth climb fences and scream bloody murder to get to the four lads from Liverpool?
And what about 75 million others, who tuned into "The Ed Sullivan Show"? Was it the music, the TV exposure, great marketing?
Maybe it was the time. The mood of the country seemed ready for the Beatles. Only two months before had come the darkest day of that generation: November 22, 1963.
Even the sister of lead guitarist George Harrison could see that America needed to heal from the death of President John F. Kennedy.
"There was a very distinct uplifting of the spirit," says Louise Harrison.
"Even then, before their spiritual phase, they brought an alternating message of love and peace in the person of these four boys.
"They were the epitome of hope."
And it wasn't just the haunting coincidence that the Beatles bounded off the plane at New York's John F.
Kennedy Airport. The New York press was ready to eat John, Paul, George and Ringo alive; the four won them over with wit and respect, much like the president in his press conferences.
Moreover, there was the undefinable charisma and sex appeal.
Kennedy had it, and even the Beatles' manager Brian Epstein and longtime producer George Martin said it was their stage presence that initially drew them, more so than the music.
"People needed something," said Vince Calandra, then a young executive for the Sullivan show. "They were the most polite group (I ever dealt with).
They were the nicest, most professional people."
They even had the hair "issue" in common. Beatle wigs were all the rage, and they were constantly asked about getting a haircut.
When he was elected president in 1960, John F. Kennedy's thick hair was considered long for a politician. So when America underwent the switch to President Lyndon Johnson, the nation had that uncomfortable feeling around the neck after a bad haircut.
"JFK's assassination meant enormous pain because there was this air of invincibility," says Beatles scholar Martin Lewis, who also produced a 4-DVD collection of the Beatles' Sullivan shows. "In some ways, the Beatles reminded us of the good times with Kennedy. He wasn't down like L.
B.J. who had this almost hangdog look and was really depressed.
"The fog of the J.F.K.
assassination hastened the process, without a doubt. It was an enormous emotional chain of events. Young readers today have their 9/11, older readers have Pearl Harbor and the Kennedy assassination was the defining moment of the 1960s.
"
Hogwash, says Bruce Spizer, author of "The Beatles are Coming! The Birth of Beatlemania in America."
A certified tax attorney by day, Spizer argues that the idea of Kennedy's death playing a key role in the Beatles' success in America is a myth.
"The American press had grown weary of reporting on the assassination and other depressing events," writes Spizer. "The Beatles provided a break from over two months of somber news."
Spizer says that "certainly it was a shaky time.
"
"The JFK assassination was big, but by the time the holiday season things had calmed down," Spizer says. "I don't view J.F.
K. and the Beatles as a cause and effect."
Lewis laughs at the disagreement they share.
"He was 8 years old at the time!" Lewis says. "He and I have endless arguments about this.
"
The comparison ends with the deaths of the two Johns. Kennedy, the leader of the free world and father of two, was killed by multiple gunfire, outdoors, in front of his wife. Seventeen years later, on Dec.
8, 1980, Lennon, leader of the Beatles and father of two, was killed by multiple gunfire, outdoors, in front of his wife.
Strangely enough, both mens' lives seemed to be on the upswing when they died. Robert F.
Kennedy commented bitterly that things were starting to go well when he lost his brother. J.F.
K. had just signed the nuclear test ban treaty and found the moral courage to finally stand up for civil rights. He and his wife Jackie developed a new closeness after the recent death of their infant son.
Likewise, in 1980, Lennon was finally finding peace in family, devoting himself to being house husband to wife Yoko and son Sean. Artistically, he had just released his first album in five years, the critically acclaimed "Double Fantasy."
The album's first No.
1 hit was "Just Like Starting Over." Dec. 8, 1980, was like Nov.
22, 1963 all over again.
(Contact Patrick Butters at buttersp(at)shns.com or http://www.
shns.com.)
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