Does anyone else remember when they first got in to the Beatles, and you thought they all looked the same and that you’d never be able to tell them apart? Now we see a picture of a leg hair and it’s like: yep, definitely John, probably taken around August of 1965 on a Tuesday at approximately 8:15 am.
it’s finally time for another requested liveblog woop! this one happens to be a fic i’ve been eyeing off for a while now, Someone Else’s Starr written by the incredibly kind and talented @missjanuarylily featuring her lovely OC Tatum Starr. so here we go with a liveblog of Chapter 1!
Ringo Starr and George Harrison, 1964, and c. 1994, screen capped from The Beatles: The First U.S. Visit and Living in the Material World
“[Ringo] Starr, however, wasn’t the only one to weep during his interview, although his tears are the only ones caught on camera.
‘Every single interview [for Living in the Material World] resulted in tears,’ producer Margaret Bodde adds. ‘And this is years after George’s passing, because everyone was connecting with their true love of George and he touched them all in very obviously special way.’” - Rolling Stone, 5 September 2011
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“The last weeks of George’s life he was in Switzerland and I went to see him, and he was very ill, and you know, he could only lay down. And while he was being ill and I’d come to see him, I was going to to Boston 'cause my daughter had a brain tumor. And I said, 'Well, I’ve gotta go, I’ve gotta go to Boston’ and he goes - it’s the last words I heard him say actually, he said, 'Do you want me to come with you?’ So, you know, that’s the incredible side of George.” - Ringo Starr, Living in the Material World [x]
I had arrived with an advantage. Early in their career Paul and John reportedly had said that they hoped to become the Goffin and King of the United Kingdom. I had taken this to mean not that they hoped to marry each other and live in New Jersey but that they aspired to be successful songwriters. I was grateful for the compliment and hoped that my uninvited presence in their suite would do nothing to diminish their respect.
Making my way through the gaggle of groupies and hangers-on, I saw my first Beatle: Ringo Starr. I introduced myself and he responded with a look of recognition. This was good. I welcomed Ringo to America, and he thanked me in his distinctive Liverpudlian accent. Then someone waved him over and off he went.
I didn’t have to go very far to find George Harrison. He spoke kindly, quietly, and briefly. George was not the most extroverted Beatle, but my next Beatle, Paul McCartney, was outgoing and congenial. He welcomed me as if we were at a social gathering rather than a scene. He went on for several minutes about how much he and John had always enjoyed and respected Gerry’s and my songs, even going so far as to cite specific songs and artists. Then, in what seemed to be emerging as a pattern, someone actively engaged Paul’s attention and he turned to that person, though not before gripping both my hands and thanking me for coming.
My last Beatle sighting was John Lennon. Surrounded by several women, none of whom appeared to be his wife, he looked… how shall I put this?
I barely had time to say, “Hi, John, I’m Carole King…” when he interrupted with a remark so disrespectful that I cannot remember what he said, but I do remember how I felt. I had proffered a face of friendship and he had responded with a figurative slap. Had I been mature enough to realize that pushing the edge of decorum was a reflex for John at that stage of his life, I might not have taken it so personally. But I was very young, and I took it very personally.
There was no reason to stay after that. I left through the front door of the suite with no idea that I would have an opportunity to learn directly from John eleven years later why he had been so rude.
(Star Collector - The Monkees, Sick Again - Led Zeppelin, Little Wing - The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Superlungs (My Supergirl) - Donovan, Ladies of The Road - King Crimson, Famous Groupies - Wings, Tiny Dancer - Elton John)
“Imagine, sitting outside on a warm summer night, lying on the grass gazing into the sky. Watching how each individual star twinkles independently, how some shine brighter than others and how together they create pictures in the sky. Suddenly dawns on you that your world, what you thought only existed, is nothing more than a grain of sand on a beach that stretches for miles and miles.” - a short excerpt by me