I knew that the gates in front were locked because the police line wasnít letting anyone else in. I walked quickly around to the back entrance, only to find more girls. At least thereís only about a dozen back here. I fought my way to the front, and the guard stopped me in my tracks. I showed my ticket and pass, and he took them, and held the papers closer to his face. He let me come by him, while restraining the other frantic young girls. Iím in! Now where the Hell do I go? I was in a dark corridor, alone. It was dark enough to make me strain my eyes to see where I was going. I saw a man ahead, posted in front of a door. I went up to him, and he told me to get back outside, with the others.
"I have a pass- just ask Paul. I can be here." He looked suspicious, and called another man to watch me while he checked inside the wooden door.
"You can go in, miss." The man told me, motioning me in. In this tiny back stage room, sat the Beatles. They were all smoking up a storm, and only Paul wasnít involved in a serious game of cards.
" ĎEllo, luv! Youíre late." Paul offered me a cigarette, but I declined.
"No thanks, donít smoke anymore. Itís the subwayís fault. They were experiencing delays. I knew that I shoulda hailed a cab."
"Ouw! Thatís a gear dress!" George made a remark, and I turned. They were finished with their card game.
"Thanks. So, what are yíall gonna play?"
"The usual. "Iím Down", "Kansas City", "Help!", etc." John told me.
"Do you guys play any um, rhythm and blues?"
"Not at the concerts." Ringo replied.
"But you do know some?" I didnít bother to hide the excitement in my voice.
"Of course. Weíll play ya some soon, OK?" John grinned. "Blues fan, eh?"
"Oh, big time! Iím from Chicago, and I was raised on the blues! Hell, I was named after Billie Holiday! You canít get to be a bigger fan than that!"
"Really, who are your favorites?" Paul asked, leaning back against the counter.
"Oh, Billie Holiday, Muddy Waters, Elmore James, John Lee Hooker, Joe Turner, Johnny Otis. All of them. And Iím a fan of yours as well." This raised some eyebrows.
"Got all the records, luv?" George asked, laughing.
"Most of Ďem. I really like the earlier covers you guys did. "Twist and Shout" was so cool." I got a huge smile from John.
The big guy from the hall popped his head in. "Five minutes, and youíre on." Paul fixed his mop top in the mirror, and Ringo grabbed his beat up sticks. They filed out the door, and Paul led me by the hand. We stopped on the side of the baseball field, and the guys ran out. The screams became deafening. They strapped on the guitars, and Ringo positioned himself behind the drum set. By the time their mouths and hand were moving, you couldnít hear a thing. I swear, if we would have been attacked with nuclear bombs, this audience couldnít even hear that.
E-mail the author!
Get Back Home!