It Was 50 Years Ago Today

 

Fifty years ago, on June 1, 1967, my mom and I trotted down Haight Street in San Francisco to the local record store. I was not quite 10 years old then. We waved at the frizzy-haired, tie-dye clad hippie at the Fish n' Chips Store and gave the peace sign to several other long--haired hippies as we marched by on our mission to the Geological Rock Shop. My younger brother originally thought the Geological Rock Shop was a store which sold geological rocks, but I was thrilled to learn it was actually a record store with a cool name.

We did not even stop to look in the windows of bead, art or button shops as we usually did. Excitement filled the air as we made our way through a group of excited teenagers, musicians, hippies and people of all ages into the record store and waited waited in line for the coveted new record.

I was not quite seven on February 9, 1964 when the Beatles arrived into the den of our flat in San Francisco on the console black and white TV.  My younger brother and sister, Michael and Jennifer, and I sat on the white shag rug in our pajamas, Dad sat on the wicker basket chair and Mom paced back and forth waving her lit cigarette, so beautiful with long, flowing hair. The cigarette smoke made her look magical. As far as I was concerned, she was magical. Mom knew everything. I wanted to be just like her then, 

"Kids, music as we know it will never be the same after tonight!" Mom proclaimed as she paced from the kitchen to the den and back again.

"Why Mom," I asked.

"Because they've arrived. You'll see!"

Just then the Ed Sullivan Show began. We watched the Ed Sullivan Show every Sunday night as a family. I loved the magic shows and the dish jugglers the best, along with some of the music. One never knew what to expect on the show. 

Suddenly, they arrived and Mom screamed. "It's them!! There they are! The Beatles!"

Four young guys with long-haired bowl haircuts shook their heads as they sang and played their hearts out, "Close your eyes and I'll miss you.."

I was instantly enchanted by the four fellows as my mother screamed and sang along while Dad, Michael and Jennifer stared at Mom with their mouths dropped open. By the time they played and sang "She Loves You," I was completely hooked. Mom and I held each other, screaming and yelling, She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, over and over.

I don't remember having anything in common with my mother until that night. We were hooked. We screamed when the Beatles played on the radio. We screamed and sang along when we listened to their records. We woke up with the Beatles and fell asleep with the Beatles. We screamed whenever a new Beatles album arrived. It was the one special thing that just the two of us shared. I kissed my Beatles dolls good night each night and hung their pictures in the bedroom I shared with Michael and Jennifer.

By the time I was seven years old, I knew every Beatles song I heard by heart, and my love for all music soared because of them. I began to notice all the music around me, and I carried a transistor radio with me wherever I went. The Beatles music defined my childhood. 

I'll never forget the moment when Mom handed me the Beatles' latest album, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band. We both looked at it together, sharing a bond with all the people in the record store who excitedly looked at their albums as well.

I studied the album cover and said, "Mom, look, the Beatles are growing up just like me!"

Mom smiled. "Yes, they are."

The actual album Mom bought on June 1, 1967 on Haight St. in San Francisco.. It now resides at my son Stevie's house.

We could not wait to get home to listen to the Sgt. Pepper album, and I danced around the living room to all the songs, especially "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds," and "Good Morning," which were my two favorites at that age. Later I would fall in love with every song for various reasons as I did with all the Beatles records.

Fifty years later, I remain a lifelong Beatles music fan. A remastered version of Sgt. Pepper with several outtakes and CD's along with dozens of photos is now available. In spite of this, I felt drawn to the original album, the one that Mom and I were so excited about in 1967. I wanted to see it and touch it and remember those special moments. Nothing can replace those memories except the original album with the cutouts.

Now I play Beatles songs on the ukulele and have instigated many Beatles music jams over the years. Almost everyone knows the Beatles songs and can sing along.

Mom passed away 20 years ago, after John and before George, their photos intermingle with family photos and their music remains alive and well. Whenever I play and sing a Beatles song, I fall in love with my mom all over again.