george

I found myself engaged in a discussion about John Lennon the other day which spawned the inevitable "Who is your favorite Beatle?" question. I adore them all... well, except maybe Ringo. As a Beatle, he was fine. I just never cared for his solo work. And the man was a spokesman for wine coolers for fuck's sake!

My favorite by far is George Harrison. I dare say his lips never even touched a Bartles & James much less spoke of its merits. When I was younger, Paul was granted most-favored Beatle status. As I got older, George took and never surrendered the lead. Paul was the most accessible in my formative years. "Ebony and Ivory" was everywhere and then a few years later, "Say Say Say" was all the rage. Those songs were all fine and good but my love of McCartney mostly stemmed from my memories of singing "Mull of Kintyre" along with my Dad when he'd put the 45 on the record player. My father wasn't necessarily a big Wings fan but if anyone puts pen to paper about a place in Scotland, that Glasgow-born man is all over it.

I also dug Paul because the first cassette I ever owned was Tug of War, which was a hand-me-down from my oldest sister. It could have been 90 minutes of static for all I cared -- it was my first tape and I cherished it. I particularly loved the large red lettering in all caps trumpeting Paul's name with the album title in smaller print underneath. I kept it out on my dresser for all to see. And then I discovered Madonna and Wham! and I think Paul went the way of the garage sale, sadly. As far as the pop distraction goes, I do still own Make It Big but several of my Madonna tapes were chewed up by my mint green radio/cassette player (with canvas carrying strap) shortly after purchase. Make of that what you will.

And now on to George... my appreciation of his music really took hold in college. But much like his own personality, my fascination with him was quiet, respectful and subdued. It was content to take a backseat to each passing fancy and new obsession I developed. A few years ago I had the good fortune to attend a posthumous tribute performed by the American Ballet Theater and it touched off a renassiance of sorts. At first I thought it an odd concept -- Harrison's music accompanied by toe shoes and pliets?!? I was a bit skeptical but it was fascinating. I discovered new depths to his already stellar compositions. "Isn't It a Pity?" is quite possibly my favorite song of his. On its own, it's amazing. To see it choreographed with lithe dancers performing fluid yet simple movements just captured my imagination and my breath.

I don't know what it is about Harrison but when I hear him sing, there's something in his voice that just gets me right here. I'm not one who tears up easily but I often have to dab my eyes throughout and again after some of his songs. "Here Comes the Sun" does it to me too. I simply cannot listen to the man if I have PMS or else I'll be an inconsolable puddle.

What's amazing is that as much as he's tugged at my heartstrings and made me sob, he's also partly responsible for some of the biggest laughs I've ever experienced. Imagine my delight when I discovered that he executive-produced Life of Brian, Time Bandits and Nuns on the Run. It just makes me love him more knowing that beneath the quiet exterior lurked an irreverent sense of humor and an appreciation for the absurd. Which might explain why he also produced Shanghai Surprise...