If you're a Beatles fan and you don't get "Moondogs, Beatles, and You" in your e-mail, you should!! (Go to moondogsbeatlesandu.multiply.com )

It's a collection of Beatles news, fun Beatle facts, Beatles videos, Beatles history, and "This Day in the Life of the Beatles" each and every day of the year. You get the coolest links to gifts, books, songs, and YouTube classics.

And the man who makes it all possible, day in and day out, is Moondog himself.

What inspired this tremendously devoted fan to give hours each day to collecting the "latest and greatest" in Beatles info and to sending that info out to each of you? What gives him the energy and the passion to do this for hundreds and hundreds of Beatles fans?

Welllllllllllllllll, read his story and find out.

And BTW, Moondog is a brilliant writer. This isn't going to be your run-of-the-mill story. This is going to be an experience. ENJOY!!!

Meet “Moondog”

All You Need Is Love

Why does Jude want me to share my life as a Beatlemaniac? I don't really know...after all I'm just a bum, Ida.

 

Valentine’s Day, February 14, 2010

I've just finished listening to Joe Johnson's "Beatle Brunch." He played "Walk With You," Ringo and Paul's duet from Ringo's new CD, "Y Not." It's brought back a flood of memories, and I'm a bit choked up, remembering the close friendship and love The Beatles shared with each other and the world! The magic of their music is so powerful and far-reaching because of that passion and dedication. They loved one another, they loved music, and they worked hard. It was a Hard Day's Night for many years.

     

George: "We were tight. That was one thing that really could be said about us; we were really tight as friends. We could argue a lot amongst ourselves, but we were very, very close to each other and in the company of other people and situations we'd always stick together."

Ringo: "They became the closest friends I'd ever had. Suddenly I had three brothers. We really looked out for each other and we had so many laughs together. In the old days we'd have the biggest hotel suites, the whole floor of the hotel, and the four of us would end up in the bathroom, just to be with each other."

John: "We were so dependent on each other it was ridiculous. We'd never go anywhere without one another. It was like being a quarter of one person, but it was great. I still love those guys. John, Paul, George and Ringo go on."

Paul: "The thing is, we're all really the same person. We're just four parts of one. Our friends called us the four-headed-monster because we were never apart."

Their closeness was not lost on me. From the very beginning, from the very first song I listened to (and bought in 1963, at age 11) they made me feel a part of their circle....like I was a Beatle, too! I was an only child in a Looney Tune house...my home life was the Titanic, and I was sinking. But The Beatles were a life raft. Because of that I'm reminded of this quote from Rose from the movie Titanic: "But now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson and that he saved me...in every way that a person can be saved. I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now...only in my memory."
(Substitute Jack Dawson with The Beatles, and that is how I feel.)

The Beatles became part of our DNA or fabric of being; they became part of our lives. And still today, when a certain happy quantum wave hits the mind/soul of a young person, The Beatles are reborn again...

Rupert Sheldrake, scientist, describes this process as Morphic Resonance:
"Through morphic resonance, the patterns of activity in self-organizing
systems are influenced by similar patterns in the past, giving each species...a collective memory."

The Beatles are definitely in the collective memory. How did they become a part of the fabric?

Let's go back, back, back, back...Let's start with December 27, 1960 at Litherland Town Hall Ballroom, Liverpool. According to author Mark Lewisohn that was the birth of Beatlemania. I'll take his word for it. (I wasn't there, I wish I was, but no.) The lucky kids who were there lost a little control but gained admittance to an exclusive ritual that would soon become very inclusive. They initiated the "pattern of activity" that became Beatlemania.

It took an Irishman called Ed Sullivan to take me to that place.

February 7, ’64

I was glued to my radio through an ear plug. WABC Radio and Cousin Brucie kept me and my friends updated. "W.A.Beatle.C." counted down the hours...until finally They Were Here! I was in New Jersey. They were five miles away in NYC! My mother was in the hospital, and my father was away on business, so I was staying with a friend that weekend. My friend's father kept threatening that, if we didn't behave, there would be no Ed Sullivan for my friend and me... and no Beatles! Two 11-year - old boys were severely challenged, for my friend had two younger sisters who took great delight in enticing us toward danger... But we made it! "Ladies and gentlemen, The Beatles!!"

From that day on I was hooked. I became 'the local Beatles freak.' I even got my sixth grade teacher to let me play "Meet The Beatles" at lunchtime. She supplied the Hi-Fi, and I was "the go-to guy" when it came to Beatles' albums. After school, friends would come to my house to listen to the new singles and albums...wherever I lived or went to school.

"A Hard Day's Night," "Help," "Rubber Soul," the music and popularity seemed like a never-ending hurricane. Whoosh!! My days were filled with Beatles, baseball, and girls. (Mostly Beatles) Luckily, my first girlfriend was a Beatlemaniac, too. In fact, she had to "talk me down" from the life-threatening disappointment I felt over the release of 'Revolver.'

When it came out I didn't like it. It was off, out of tune. I must have gotten a bad copy. My girlfriend had a copy too, and it was the same. What was I going to do?

My friends wanted to listen to it with me, and I had to pretend to like it. I spent hours on the phone with Jeanne (my girlfriend) trying to understand what happened. Finally, she convinced me that I liked it! And that was a very lucky thing, because I had tickets to see The Beatles at Shea Stadium on August 23, 1966!

Unfortunately for Jeanne, I had purchased the tickets right before I met her that summer, and I had invited my cousin (who drove) to accompany me! I was 14; he was 18. Jeanne broke up with me about a million times trying to get that ticket, but I remained loyal to my cousin. And on 23 August, we were off!

I had been to Shea to see the Mets play, but this was a different crowd. Approaching the entrance, I saw Beatniks, Hippies, a motley crew! I was nervous. At 14 I was still a "rah - rah"...penny loafers, madras shirt, beige pants. I wanted to turn around and split. My cousin calmed me down. Good thing. I was still reeling from the 'Revolver' debacle and thought I was out of my element, but as the set list will show, I had nothing to be worried about.

1. Rock and Roll Music

2. She's A Woman

3. If I Needed Someone

4. Day Tripper

5. Baby's In Black

6. I Feel Fine

7. Yesterday

8. I Wanna Be Your Man

9. Nowhere Man

10. Paperback Writer

11. Long Tall Sally

   

 

I remember that Paul mentioned that it was John and Cynthia's anniversary a few times. John said, "Thank you, and that's enough of that, Paul." The crowd of about 50,000 sang, "We all live in a Yellow Submarine' to The Beatles." Funny thing, 'Revolver' had just come out, and they were only four or five months away from the 'Sgt. Pepper' sessions; John was only three months away from writing 'Strawberry Fields' and meeting Yoko Ono, and yet they were still doing their 64/65 set for the most part. No wonder they decided to stop touring! They were in limbo, ahead of the technology needed to perform. John's 'bigger than' remark and the Philippines incident made it ridiculous to continue touring. All in all, I was very lucky to be at Shea. I was definitely envied by my classmates. (Except for one, Jeanne...if looks could kill! Well, we still dated after that, but the August air was pretty cold.)

Jeanne and I became very close, and by June '67 we'd been 'together together' for over a year. Unhappy nuts don't like happy nuts, and my parents weren't happy nuts. So, by June I learned that in September I was headed off to Military School.

I'll spare you the 'last days together' bit between Jeanne and me. Suffice it to say there were lots of tears. But off I went to jail! That's how it seemed to me.

But I wasn't alone at Military School. Playing my Beatles albums in the dorm caught the attention of the type of kids I wanted to hang with. My roommate couldn't've care less about my music. (He was the quarterback of the football team and had other things on his mind.) But the slightly "left-leaning cadets," us troublemakers, made music our refuge. The Beatles spoke the language of the thoughtful and the visceral alike. Those of us who gravitated to The Beatles had something in common: Military School was not (and is not) for the outwardly artistic type. So if any of us had an inclination in that direction we hid it. Listening to The Beatles allowed us to release our fears without speaking about them.

Lucky for me, the school shut down after my first year. The parental nuts were fond of saying that "the school was open for 130 years, and it took Mike only one to shut it down."

In September '68 I was off to Prep School. (The nuts still thought I was a tough nut to crack. Maybe preppies could show me the way.) But after only two months, I was suspended for drinking. It was stupid, really. But it gave me the opportunity to come back to school a week later with "The Beatles" (The White Album) in hand.

Whew...Listening to it that first night was similar to the first time I listened to Pepper.

This time there were four of us crowded around the record player, and it was a DOUBLE album. When "Back In The USSR" came on, I was a little shocked by the '50's sound it had. When the rest of it played out, the four of us had the same reaction, "Play it again!" What a treat! (It's my desert island pick along with the British version of "A Hard Day's Night.")

Yet The White Album was a red flag, a warning for me that John was troubled...that he was flirting with danger. No, not because he was with Yoko. I got the feeling that John wasn't just smoking pot or taking LSD. No, I thought he was depressed. I began to fear that he wasn't long for this world. In fact, although I wasn't thrilled when he left Cynthia for Yoko, I thought Yoko might be the one to save his life. (The jury is still out on that.)

All I know is that on 'Rubber Soul' I heard a maturing John. On 'Revolver,' after the initial shock of it, I realized John was more than a songwriter/singer. 'She Said, She Said' is a masterpiece. 'Tomorrow Never Knows' made me grow up a little.

On "Sgt. Pepper," I heard a playful wordsmith and an artist with "Lucy In The Sky" and "A Day In The Life." On 'Magical Mystery Tour,' 'Walrus' is unlike anything ever put on vinyl, and to this day, that song has the same effect that was intended: shock and confusion. I'm cryyyyyying.

But in 'The White Album' I heard danger. Along with the beautiful 'Dear Prudence' and the artistry of 'I'm So Tired' and 'Julia,' 'Happiness Is A Warm Gun' worried me. 'Yer Blues' is a great song, but it's a confessional cry. I know they are the work of a talented songwriter, but I saw signs of unhappiness. But what could I do? (I realize now that I was seeing life differently also, and John was my guide. Singing words I was afraid to even think.) This "new" John was a challenge for me. He was making me think! Bugger!

The Summer of '68 came and Jeanne and I were still together, much to the chagrin of the nuts running the home. But all was not well...Jeanne wasn't thrilled with the new, thinking me. We didn't see eye-to-eye about The Beatles anymore. She didn't like the cha-cha-cha-changes in their personalities and music.

     

Jeanne and I disagreed about the Hippy movement. I was for it; she was against it. We started to drift apart. The School year of '69 was the beginning of the end for us. We were seeing other people, and by the summer of '69 we were apart. (By the way, we remain friends to this day.) She's a nurse in Boston, happily married and mother of two. I've been happily married for 33 years. My wife and Jeanne speak on the phone every now and then...I wonder what they are saying?

1969 brought the end of The Beatles too, essentially. 'Let It Be' and 'Abbey Road' were both recorded that year. They were released in opposite order (every Beatles fan knows why). There was trouble in paradise

(A musician friend of mine was suspicious after 'Let It Be' was released. He wondered why 'Abbey Road' sounded technically advanced to 'Let It Be.' He had good ears. He knew George wasn't playing lead guitar on 'Get Back' right away. John played the solo.)

Then in April '70 Paul announced what some of us knew already: the dream was over. My "real family," The Beatles, were getting a divorce. Some of us took refuge in Paul's first solo effort, along with John's "Live Peace Toronto."

The Summer of '70 came and went. I graduated high school. Met a nice girl, Kathy. She liked The Beatles. Good. We listened to "Let It Be" a lot. Somehow I got a hold of the bootleg version called "Get Back." (John once said the real soundtrack to 'Let It Be' is like The Beatles with their trousers down. For you American Idol fans..."you lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground." See? Once again, John was way ahead of his time.)

By the End of '70 John's masterpiece came out. Nicknamed "The Mother Album," Plastic Ono Band was pure genius. But once again John proved too much for the mild-mannered. Without knowing what was on the album, Kathy and I played it in her living room. Her parents were about 20 feet away in the kitchen. (This was a church-going Italian family.) All was well until "I Found Out" came on. Then the lyric 'some of you sittin' there with your #%#* in your hand...' made Kathy and I look at each other...hoping her parents didn't hear. I guess they didn't. Then "Working Class Hero" came on...Two times John said the 'F' word...her parents heard. "What did he say, what are you listening to...? You take that off right now!" We apologized. Secretly I was cheering inside...Yesssss....John! Yesssss.

The years rolled by. I met my wife in 1976; we married in '77. Dorothy was a theater major. She had a different idea of what good music was/is. She liked/s Sinatra, Bennett, Ella...Cole Porter and the like...I am now a fan of them, too...But what's even more important, she is now a bigggggg fan of The Beatles. She can go toe-to-toe with any Beatles expert. (At the start of our relationship she couldn't have cared less about The Beatles...Now, watch it buddy, don't "dis" The Boys to her face!) That's marital bliss.

The real end of The Beatles came on December 8, 1980.

That night my wife and I were at an audition. She was trying out for a part in "Uncommon Women and Others." She got it. After the audition was over, at about 10:45, I was having an argument with a woman about The Beatles. She was probably my age now, 57... I was 28 then. While talking with her, "I Want To Hold Your Hand" came on the juke box. She started singing along. I said, "Wow, you like The Beatles?" She became indignant and asked, "Why, am I too old?" She scolded me about being ignorant and prejudiced. A few of my friends at the theater told her that I was a Beatlemaniac and was just happy to see another Beatles fan. She calmed down and apologized. (She had run into age prejudice in the theater before and thought she was running into it again.) We left on good terms. Dorothy and I hadn't eaten dinner yet, so we went to our favorite Italian restaurant. By then it was after serving hours, but they were willing to bring us food at the bar. Monday Night Football was on. The announcer, Howard Cosell, broke the news of John Lennon's death. I left my wife at the bar with the car keys and walked home. I looked up into the heavens and said to John, "How can you be so stupid to go and get yourself killed!" I shook my fist at God. After five years away, John had just released a couple of singles and his album "Double Fantasy." I had been reading the amazing Playboy interview that day! It just couldn't be true!

The next day, and a couple of other times that week, Dorothy and I went to The Dakota. It was sad. I felt like I should help the brokenhearted people there. It was a strange feeling. I was there because my heart was breaking, but somehow I felt John inside, pushing me to be strong.

Since then, whenever I feel down, whenever I feel like giving in to defeat, I think of John...and I realize it can all be a lot worse. Keep on keeping on until it's over. That's what he gave me.

 

In 2000 I got my first computer and began enjoying the Internet. Around the same time, I saw a Bill Moyers' special on Joseph Campbell. The themes "Follow Your Bliss" and mythology were discussed.

Essentially Campbell was saying: "If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. Wherever you are -- if you are following your bliss, you are enjoying that refreshment, that life within you, all the time."

Being a quick learner, I put the Internet to work and connected with other Beatles Fans. I joined a few groups that Beatle-ized and found my Bliss again.

 

In 2004 I formed my own group at MSN. I found being responsible for the content heightened my Bliss. The daily interaction with members and the search for Beatles stories around the Internet world kept me where I wanted to be, in a Beatles frame of mind. MSN stopped sponsoring "Groups" in 2009, but they offered a migration tool to Multiply.com.

That's where http://moondogsbeatlesandu.multiply.com resides now. It's a small group, one year old, growing all the time. It's not about Beatles news stories. It's not about nostalgia. It's not about Beatles instruments or Beatles songs or Beatles trivia or Beatles videos. It's about Every Little Thing. It's keepin' the legend alive...and I will.