I AM one of those who freely and ungrudgingly takes great interest in my friends’ pleasures, in what they relish and what they become anxious about in the world of Western mass culture (and borrowings).
We reveal ourselves (like any westerner), with our grasp of the latest fashion and catch phrases, or the hottest dances.
We happily watched our own Beatles-inspired Filipino group, the REO Brothers Band, perform in a concert for the benefit of the Yolanda typhoon victims.
I watched my friends prance and paddle about with glee in the aisles of a church in Glendale, in an evening of sweetness and affability.
Listening to the Beatles’ music brings chants, laughter, ceaseless humming and chatter; cures the pain of a fevered soul amid life’s trifles.
There is nostalgia and a walk through memory lane, as the four evangelists of beat sing “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
They had us on our toes. Wearing shags, uncut and uncombed, they proved that being clean-cut, neat and refined are not pre-requisites to making a million bucks — but becoming idols and being decorated by a Queen can get you that.
Now, the Beatles’ place in pop culture is secure.
Some of their so-called “noises” include “Yesterday,” “If I Fall,” “Let It Be” and “I Love Her.” These songs will outlive and outlast a number of symphonies or sonatas. The language of these evangelists of beat is current and instant.
In the 60s, negotiations to bring the Beatles to the Philippines took over a year. They were originally intended to perform at the Araneta Coliseum, but the Aranetas sensibly balked at the promoters plan, to charge a top price of fifty pesos. At the “people’s coliseum,” no seat was to cost more than ten pesos, according to Don Amado Araneta.
So it was booked at the Rizal Memorial Football Stadium, which was not a suited place for a show. Everybody lost out, the Beatles flopped, the audience fumed and everyone was unhappy.
I remember the press conference called by the promoter, which has become a joke among newsmen — the hoopla was titillating.
The Beatles were insured for a million pesos. More than a thousand guests of honor were invited to attend the show.
The Beatles planed into a squealing crowd of vociferous welcomers — young women clad in mini-skirts and boots on a sultry July day. The Beatles locks were shaggy and the newshen quickly noted the quartet’s exuberant physical aroma.
When the Beatles sat down at the table, all the photographers jumped up and went wild! John Lennon yelped “woof-woof;” Ringo pranced about.
Order was restored after 15 minutes. The late Jose Quirino beat me in asking the inevitable inquiry: “Do you have haircuts?” John Lennon cooed: “Many times.”
“When was the last time?, “ I shrieked. “1933,” giggled the smug Lennon.
The crazy questions flew fast and quick:
What was their favorite song? God Save the Queen? The second favorite was God Save The King.
What did their wives do when they were away? Have a holiday.
What would they be doing 10 years from now? We don’t even know if we’ll be around tomorrow!
When asked what they thought of the Rolling Stones, The Beatles said: “They are nice, we will warn them!”
They spoke wisely, not knowing what awaited them at the airport.
And by the way, also decorating the occasion were PC troops, motorcycle cops in rowdy red cowboy hats, armored cars, fire trucks, riot squad jeeps and police prowl cars.
Their first glimpse of our country prompted one of The Beatles to ask: “Is there a war in the Philippines? Why is everybody armed?”
